Part 40 (1/2)

KATIE.

I'll calm down after I talk to her. She is sixteen, Bill. Sixteen-year-old girls are p.r.o.ne to depressive interludes. Sometimes they even k . . . just give me the d.a.m.n number!

BILL.

617-555-8641.

As she punches the numbers, THE CAMERA SLIDES IN TO CU.

KATIE.

Come on, come on . . . don't be busy . . . just this once . . .

SOUND: CLICKS. A pause. Then . . . the phone starts ringing.

KATIE (eyes closed) Thank You, G.o.d.

VOICE (filter) Hartshorn Hall, this is Frieda. If you want Christine the s.e.x Queen, she's still in the shower, Arnie.

KATIE.

Could you call Polly to the phone? Polly Weiderman? This is Kate Weiderman. Her mother.

VOICE (filter) Oh, jeez! Sorry. I thought - hang on, please, Mrs. Weiderman.

SOUND: THE PHONE CLUNKS DOWN.

VOICE (filter, and very faint) Polly? Pol? . . . Phone call! . . . It's your mother!

INT. A WIDER ANGLE ON THE PHONE NOOK, WITH BILL.

BILL.

Well?

KATIE.

Somebody's getting her. I hope.

JEFF comes back in with a tape.

JEFF.

I found one, Dad. Dennis hid em. As usual.

BILL.

In a minute, Jeff. Go watch the tube.

JEFF.

But - BILL.

I won't forget. Now go on.

JEFF goes.

KATIE.

Come on, come on, come on . . .

BILL.

Calm down, Katie.

KATIE (snaps) If you'd heard her, you wouldn't tell me to calm down! She sounded - POLLY (filter, cheery voice) Hi, mom!

KATIE.

Pol? Honey? Are you all right?

POLLY (happy, bubbling voice) Am I all right? I aced my bio exam, got a B on my French Conversational Essay, and Ronnie Hansen asked me to the Harvest Ball. I'm so all right that if one more good thing happens to me today, I'll probably blow up like the Hindenburg.

KATIE.

You didn't just call me up, crying your head off?

We see by KATE'S face that she already knows the answer to this question.

POLLY (filter) Heck no!

KATIE.

I'm glad about your test and your date, honey. I guess it was someone else. I'll call you back, okay?

POLLY (filter) 'Kay. Say hi to Dad!

KATIE.

I will.

INT. THE PHONE NOOK, WIDER.

BILL.

She okay?

KATIE.

Fine. I could have sworn it was Polly, but . . . she's walking on air.