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turning to page one
turning to page one
Richie’s room has been converted into a makeshift hospital room. Royal lies on an electric hospital bed. He has an IV in his arm and a tube in his nose. There are several monitors and machines breathing and humming. There are numerous bottles of pills and medicines on the night stand. Pagoda has on a surgical mask and scrubs.
Chas stands in the doorway. Richie is behind him.
CHAS
Get out.
ROYAL
All right. Let me just collect my
things.
Royal sits up on the edge of the bed. He is dressed in pink surgical scrubs.
ROYAL (CONT’D)
Would you mind handing me my cane,
Richie?
Richie hands Royal his cane. Royal struggles to his feet. He rolls the IV stand beside him.
ROYAL (CONT’D)
Let’s see, now. Where’s my suitcase?
Royal’s knee gives out. He staggers a step. He grips the back of a chair and looks to Richie with a surprised expression. He collapses on to the floor. He produces a wooden spoon, which he takes between his teeth.
RICHIE
Dad?
Richie and Pagoda rush over and kneel on the floor beside Royal. Chas frowns. Richie yells out the door:
RICHIE (CONT’D)
Mom!
ROYAL
Grab me a Nembutal, son.
Richie runs to the night stand and pops open a bottle of pills. Chas looks down at Royal.
CHAS
Are you OK?
Royal takes the spoon out of his mouth.
ROYAL
Fuck do you care?
Richie gives Royal a pill with a glass of water. Etheline comes to the door.
ETHELINE
Oh, my goodness!
ROYAL
Pagoda. Call Dr. McClure.
CUT TO:
Forty-five minutes later. Royal is back in bed. He is being examined by Dusty, the elevator operator from the Lindbergh Palace. Dusty is dressed in a white lab coat and elevator- operator pants with a red stripe down the side. He checks Royal’s pulse while everyone watches.