Wednesday, April 29, 2009

The Fugitive Generation (vii)


Jim purchases a sandwich and an orange juice from a smiling BEARDED CASHIER who has long-hair. Store is crowded with long-haired and bearded young men and dressed-down young women who don't wear make-up or lipstick.

BEARDED CASHIER: That'll be $1.75.


As Jim is about to enter his room with his bag of food, he bumps into JOEY, 22, on the second floor. Joey is tall, long-haired and beardless. He smiles at Jim.

JOEY: Welcome! I'm Joey.

Jim smiles and nods.

JIM: I'm Jim.

JOEY: How about coming upstairs to smoke some weed with me?

JIM: O.K. I'll be right up.

JOEY: Catch you later, then.

Joey opens door in hall and walks upstairs to attic apartment.


Joey and Jim are laughing, in-between sharing joints. A Rolling Stones record plays in the background.

JIM: What do you think of the students around here?

JOEY: They're good customers. But they don't party as much as they do at Michigan State. And some of them are rich and snotty.

JIM: How do you like the landlord?

JOEY: He's cool. He stays downstairs and never comes up here. And he lets me do my thing.

JIM: Your grass beats what they're selling in New York City these days. Too bad I don't have the bread to buy some of it from you.

JOEY: That's O.K.. I get enough business from the students to keep me living high. And downstairs would probably get uptight if I started dealing weed to his tenants.

Jim stands up.

JIM: Well, thanks for inviting me up here.

JOEY: Catch you later, brother!


Smashed, Jim takes out his guitar from its case and sits down on the mattress in the room. He begins to sing loudly.

JIM (sings):

They call him Public Enemy Number One
They say he's done wrong, they seem to want him hung
For many, many months he's been fast on the run
It sure is fun being Public Enemy Number One.

John Dillinger was Public Enemy Number One
Like Billy the Kid, he learned to use his gun
They jailed him 10 years for robbing a small sum
It's better than working, being Public Enemy Number One.

The women are all in love with Public Enemy Number One
Whenever he's around, they each give him a hug
The sheriff and his posse, they often are quite stunned
For they can't seem to locate Public Enemy Number One.

The courtroom is waiting for Public Enemy Number One
They've listed all the crimes, the bankers say he's done
To protect their stocks and bonds, they've spilt a lot of blood
Yet seriosuly they still hunt for Public Enemy Number One.

He sure does confuse me, Public Enemy Number One
He seems very friendly and full of lots of love
I hope they don't kill him for being kind to bums
He seems so symbolic, this Public Enemy Number one

Yes, they call him--

Loud KNOCKING on door startles Jim. He quickly stops singing and puts guitar down on the mattress. Loud knocking continues. Jim stands up, walks to door slowly.

JIM (CONT'D): Who's there?

Silence for a second.

LANDLORD (O.S.): It's the landlord! Open up!

Jim opens door. Landlord is standing outside door with irritated expression.

LANDLORD (CONT'D): If you want to live here, you can't play that guitar so loud at this time of night!

JIM: Oh. Excuse me. I didn't realize sound carried so far in this house. it won't happen again.

LANDLORD: Well, be sure that it doesn't! Because my wife and I can't sleep with that kind of noise.

Landlord closes door and goes back downstairs. Jim smiles and starts to put his guitar back in its case.


Maloney and Kelly walk across Low Plaza on Columbia University's campus and up the stairs in front of Low Library Administration Building. Groups of students, dressed the same way as the U. of Michigan students in Ann Arbor, walk by them in both directions, but do not notice them. After reaching the top of the stairs in front of Low Library, Maloney and Kelly walk towards Columbia's Engineering School Building.


Maloney and Kelly stop in front of Engineering School Building.

KELLY: His office should be in this building.


Maloney and Kelly walk towards building directory by elevator. They search the directory for the name they're looking for. Their eyes focus on "Professor Samuel Levine, Professor of Industrial Engineering, Room 425."

KELLY (V.O.): Professor Samuel Levine, Room 425. That's him.

MALONEY: Let's see if the professor is in his office.

Kelly presses elevator button, door opens and they enter. Elevator door closes.


Maloney and Kelly walk down hallway. They stop in front of Room 425. Door to room is open.


PROFESSOR LEVINE, 58, wears a suit, tie and glasses. His office is filled with hundreds of books on its shelves. Walls are decorated with anti-war posters. He is sitting at his desk, reading the New York Times, when Maloney and Kelly enter his office.

KELLY (O.S.): Professor Levine?


KELLY: We're from the FBI. And we'd like to speak with you.

Kelly flashes his FBI I.D. card.

PROFESSOR LEVINE: Get out of my office. I have nothing to say to you.

KELLY: We're looking for James Greenberg. He wrote you an open letter in the student newspaper. You know where he's hiding.

PROFESSOR LEVINE: I said get out of my office.

MALONEY: Look, Professor. James Greenberg knows where the Weather fugitives are. And we'd like your cooperation in locating the Weather fugitives.

PROFESSOR LEVINE: If you're not out of my office by the time I count to ten, I'm calling campus security. One, two, three...

Maloney shrugs and motions to Kelly to leave.

MALONEY: O.K. Professor. I guess we'll have to come back with a grand jury subpoena the next time we visit you.

Kelly follows Maloney out of the office.


Maloney and Kelly walk in front of Low Library and through Low Plaza.

MALONEY: I think we should teach that commie professor a lesson.

Kelly nods.

KELLY: I'll ask O'Connor to do a nighttime--"investigation"--of his office next month. The professor won't be too happy after O'Connor gets through--"searching through"--all those books in his office. For--"notes from the Weather fugitives."

Maloney chuckles.


Maloney and Kelly stand in front of Ferris Booth Hall, the Columbia Student Union Building, while students walk in and out.

KELLY: The student newspaper office is up on the 3rd floor.


LOUISE, 21, the student editor, wears glasses. She is sitting behind a desk, reading copy. EDDIE, 19, a beardless student reporter with short hair, walks up to Louise.

EDDIE: Hey, Louise! We received another open letter from that Greenberg guy. What should I do with it?

LOUISE: That guy doesn't give up, does he? Doesn't he know students at Columbia don't give a fuck about the Weather fugitives? He doesn't realize that we're living in the '70s now. Not the '60s.

EDDIE: It looks like he's living in Ann Arbor now. According to the postmark on the envelope.

LOUISE: Well, whether he's in Ann Arbor or at Kent State, I have absolutely no interest in printing any more of his stuff in Spectator. You might as well throw anymore stuff you receive from him in the basket right away.

Eddie walks towards the office trash basket.

LOUISE (CONT'D): Oh, Eddie!

Eddie turns around.

LOUISE (CONT'D): I wanted to talk to you about covering the James Taylor concert next week.

EDDIE: James Taylor? I'll let you know tomorrow if I can do it.

Eddie dumps the open letter and envelope from Greenberg in the trash basket. Maloney and Kelly enter the office.

LOUISE: May I help you?

KELLY: We're from the FBI.

Kelly flashes his FBI I.D. card.

KELLY (CONT'D): And we'd like to speak with the editor.

LOUISE: FBI? I'm the editor. But people at Spectator don't speak to the FBI. We're a newspaper for students. Not for providing information to cops.

KELLY: But if your newspaper is just for students, then why did you publish that open letter from James Greenberg? He's not a student at Columbia anymore.

LOUISE: Get the fuck out of here! We don't have to explain to you why we publish anything. Didn't you ever hear of freedom of the press?

MALONEY: Watch your mouth, girl. Or we may decide to slap a subpoena on you.

LOUISE: Don't call me "girl." I'm a woman. Not a "girl."

MALONEY: I'll call you whatever I like.

KELLY: Let's calm down. We're looking for the Weather fugitives. James Greenberg knows where the Weather fugitives are. And Spectator must know where James Greenberg is hiding.

LOUISE: Eddie! Could you please telephone our lawyer and tell him we want the FBI to get the fuck out of our newsroom?

Eddie dials telephone.

EDDIE: Hello, operator? May I have the phone number for William Kunstler?

MALONEY: O.K. We'll go now. But don't print anymore open letters from Greenberg. Or we'll be back.

Eddie writes down a number.

Maloney turns to Kelly.

MALONEY (CONT'D): Let's go.

Maloney and Kelly leave office.

EDDIE: Should I call Kunstler?

LOUISE: No. Not yet. As long as we don't print any stuff from Greenberg in Spectator, they probably won't be back. That's what they really want out of us.

EDDIE: Do you want me to write a news story about their visit?

LOUISE: Yeah. Mention that the FBI visited us to ask about the Weather fugitives. But don't mention specific details. I don't want them to suspect we might really know where this Greenberg guy is hiding out. Then they might start intercepting our mail at the post office.