Status: active and completed
The Ghost of You
But Falling Over You
Frank and Bob approach a fancy part of the bank housing administrative personnel. They approach a guard who is standing there.
" Tell the guard you're here to see Lyle Furgeson. "
" Lyle Furgeson, please. "
" Do you have an appointment? "
" No. I'm here for the fun of it. "
" Don't say that! Tell him Brian Schechter here. "
" Tell him Brian Schechter's here. "
" Just one moment, please. "
" Don't embellish. " Frank chastised.
" Yes, Sir. " He salutes to Frank
" Excuse me? " The guard turns around.
Bob waves him on.
" Now listen, this guy Furgeson's a real jerk. I've known him five years and he still thinks my name's Paul. "
Mr. Furgeson looks up and sees Bob. He shrugs his shoulders.
" He's a social moron. You don't have to worry about anything, Bob. Tell the guard Furgeson knows you. You spent time with him and his wife Shirley at the Brewster's Christmas party last year. "
The Guard comes back. " What is this regarding? "
" What? He doesn't remember me? We were together at the Brewster's Christmas party. With his wife Shirley. They had that lovely tree. . . all those presents. I'll never forget all those beautiful--"
Frank pokes him. Bob yelps, surprised, and glances around. The Guard gives him an odd look.
" Oops. Gas. " He forces a smile.
The Guard smiles back and then goes over to Mr. Furgeson.
" This'll be easy, Bob. Furgeson was so drunk at that party, he could have had a conversation with Tina Turner and he wouldn't remember. "
The Guard whispers in Furgeson's ear.
Furgeson appears totally flummoxed. He looks up at Bob, embarrassed, and waves.
The Guard motions for Bob to come. Furgeson sticks out his hand. " Hello, hello. Of course, of course. It's been so long. "
" A long time. "
" Ask how Bobby and Snooky are. "
" How are Bobby and Snooky doin'? "
Furgeson is perplexed " Why, they're just fine, thank you. Nice of you to ask. And how is your. . . family? "
" Couldn't be better. "
" Well, isn't that wonderful. "
" Tell him you've been wondering how they did on the Gibraltar securities. "
" So tell me, Fergie, how did you do on the Gibraltar securities? "
" The Gibraltar securities! Well, it looks like we topped out, huh? "
" We sure did!" Shouts Frank.
" We sure did. "
" That was a wonderful tip. "
" Good old Randy. " Lyle smiles at Bob
" Yeah, good old Randy. Got a real head on his shoulders. "
" 'Her' shoulders. "
" Her shoulders. "
" Sure does. Well. . . . what brings you here today? "
" You're closing an account. "
" I'm closing an account. "
" Well . . . wonderful. Do you have your account number? "
" 926-31043. "
" 926-3143. "
" 31-0-43. "
Bob looks up into the air. Furgeson eyes him strangely. " Make that 31-0-43. . . Numbers. I'm dyslexic. "
He punches Brian Schechter's number into the computer. A figure appears on the screen. He stares at it for a few seconds and then punches it in again.
" Well, Brian, you'll be withdrawing four million dollars from us today, is that correct? "
" Four million dollars?! " Bob shouts loud.
" Say "yes", Bob! "
" Yes! Four million. That's right. That's right. "
" And how will you want that? "
" Tens and twenties? "
" Pardon? "
" A cashier's check! Tell him a cashier's check. "
" A cashier's check. "
" Fine. Of course, you realize we're required to get some identification from everyone. It's just procedural. You understand. "
" Of course. " Bob reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He pulls out a drivers license and social sercurity card.
Furgeson gets up and walks away from his desk. He seems unsteady on his feet.
Furgeson lays Brian's ID next to his signature card. The signatures match up and he nods his head in approval.
Mr. Furgeson returns with Brian Schechter's signature card and a cashier's check for $4,000,000. Bob's hand shakes as he examines it.
" I'll just need your signature right here.
" Sure. "
Frank looks up from the commotion at the table and checks for the guard " Make sure you sign Brian Schechter this time. " Frank gulps hard.
Gerard has just entered the bank.
" I'll be back in a minute. You're on your own. Don't say anything foolish. "
Bob signs a form closing the account. Of course the signatures match. Mr. Furgeson examines them both and smiles. He shakes Bob's hand. " Now you be careful with this. It's like carrying cash, you know. "
Bob is glowing. " I sure do. "
Frank rushes over to Gerard.
He is not sure what to do. He notices a stack of deposit forms on the counter he is about
to pass. He hurries to it and flicks the entire stack, a hundred sheets, flying up into the air.
Gerard, confused, thinks he is responsible and stoops to pick them up. Frank, delighted, flicks another stack.
Bob is talking a blue streak when Frank returns to him.
" Then my Father took all the money from the oil wells and put it in gasoline pumps. Every gas station has 'em you know, sometimes six or more. It adds up. "
"Bob, stop, come on. We gotta get out of here. Say goodbye. "
" Well, I've got to leave. It's been a pleasure doin' business with you. "
" Thank you, good bye.
Frank notices a new swagger in his walk. Frank sees Gerard about to stand up.
" Hurry up, Bob Bryar. "
" What a day! "
Gerard sees him, does a double take, and starts to go after him.
Unfortunately, Bob steps onto an elevator before Gerard can catch up. The doors close. Gerard stops for a moment and then looks back across to the executive area. He sees Lyle Furgeson and hurries over to him.
" Lionel? "
He is surprised to see her and grows instantly solicitous.
" Gerard. How are you? "
" Lionel, that man who just left, did you see him? "
" Well, yes. I just took care of him. "
" What did she want? Did it have anything to do with me? Did he ask about Frank? "
" Frank? No. Why? "
" Was his name Bob Bryar? "
" No, Brian Schechter. He just closed an account. "
Gerard stares at Furgeson. He is not sure what to think.
" Is there a problem, Gerard? "
" No. I guess not. Thanks.
He walks away, confused.
*_______*
Ray, in front of his computer, is going crazy. He keeps punching buttons on the keyboard but the same response appears over and over on the screen. "BRIAN SCHECHTER, #926-31043. ACCOUNT CLOSED. BALANCE $00.00."
Panicked, Ray jumps up. He moves quickly, erratically around the office and then back to the computer. He punches the keys over and over. The same answer appears on the screen.
The account is closed.
He looses it.
*________*
Frank and Bob are walking down the street in front of the bank. " Bob. I need the check. "
Bob stops with a nervous look on his face. " Why? it's not like you can hold it or anything. . . right? "
" Just take it out of your wallet. You know what I mean. "
Bob removes the check but holds onto it tightly.
" Now endorse it. Sign Brian Schechter. "
" Endorse it?! Why? "
" Do what I say. "
" No! "
" That's blood money, Bobbie. I was killed for that money. Endorse it now. "
" What are you going to do with it? "
" We're giving it away. "
" Away? What do you mean? To who? "
" Look to your left. "
He looks at the nuns collecting money for the homeless. He recoils. " Are you outta your mind? "
" Do what I tell you. "
" No! " He clutches the check harder. " I can't. "
" Yes, you can. If you don't do it, they'll track you down. Your only protection is to get rid of it, now. "
" Sweet Jesus, you're killing me, Frankie. "
" Frankie? "
" You call me Bobbie a lot so why can't I give you a nickname? "
" Frankie. " He smiles wildly at Bob. " Alright then, but I'm saving you, Bob. You'll go to heaven for this. "
Bob growls at him, but with great difficulty, he approaches the nuns.
The nuns look at him with curiosity and compassion.
" Write "St. Joseph's Shelter". "
With great hesitation, Bob begins to write. Every word is a torment for him. The nuns politely avert their eyes from the check.
" Bless you, child. " One says.
Bob gives her a dirty look and hands the check over.
" I'm proud of you, Bobbie! "
" Don't you talk to me. I don't want you comin' round no more. I mean it. Understand? "
" Come on, we're friends. "
" Friends? Friends?! "
" Well, I think you're wonderful, Bob Bryar. "
He growls again.
*_______*
It is after hours. Almost everyone on the floor has gone. Ray, hunched over his computer, is typing furious commands on the keyboard. He looks haggard and worn.
Sequence after sequence of coded numbers flash past on the
monitor screen.
Frank, sitting in a desk chair, watches, smiling. " Search, fucker! You'll never find it. It's gone. They'll kill you for this, Ray. You and Willie. They'll wipe you off the face of the earth. "
In a moment of childish delight, he pushes his feet against the wall and the chair shoots across the room. Ray looks up and sees an empty chair moving. He stares at it in confusion,
and then goes back to the screen. He seems desperate. Nothing is working.
Panicked and frightened, Ray flicks off the machine and storms furiously around the room. Frank approaches the computer, hesitates a moment, and then pushes the power switch. The
computer clicks back on. Ray spins around. He stares at the computer curiously for a moment and then turns it back off.
Frank, enjoying this, reaches for the switch and flicks it back on again.
Ray stares at it. " What the. . .? "
Ray watches as the keys seem to depress themselves and letters begin appearing on the screen. He sits down, mesmerized by what is happening. Then his face grows tense.
The word "M-U-R-D-E-R-E-R" is emerging before him.
Ray flies out of his chair, frantically running around to see who else is on the floor. He yells out like a madman. " Who's doing that? "
There is no one there. He hears the computer beginning to type again and hurries back to look at the screen. One word appears. "F-R-A-N-K".
Ray gasps and smashes the computer with his fist. It crashes to the floor. Electrical sparks go flying as Ray gasps for breath.
" It's dinner time, Ray Don't you have a date with Gerard, you creepy son-of-a bitch? "
*______*
Gerard, all dressed to go out, is sitting in Frank's easy chair almost asleep.
Suddenly Ray arrives knocking at his door. He does not look well. Frank is with him.
" Ray? Where were you? I thought we were having. . .? "
" I'm sorry. Things just got so crazy. I completely forgot. "
" Forgot? Is everything okay? Are you all right? "
" I'm okay. I'm alright. Look, can I talk to you for minute? Can I come in? "
Gerard eyes Ray with concern as he enters the loft.
" I need to ask you a question, Gee. "
" He needs to borrow four million dollars. " Frank laughs out loud.
" Gerard, that psychic, I want to know what he told you. I want to know what he said. "
" Ray, stop this. It was all a hoax. I told you. It wasn't real. He's a charlatan." Gerard hesitates before he says his next sentence. " Does this have anything to do with him being at the bank today? "
Ray gulps. " At the bank? "
Frank tenses.
" I'm sure I saw him. Furgeson says he was taking out money. It turns out his name isn't even Bob Bryar. It's Brian Schechter or something. "
Ray turns white. His eyes bulge. He feels sick.
" What's wrong? "
" Stomach. My stomach. Do you have anything? Pepto Bismol. "
" Sure. Just a second. "
Frank digs his hands into Ray's back. Ray jerks forward in intense pain and begins flailing at the air. " What are you doing to me. Get away! Get away! "
Frank does not go away.
Freaked, Ray runs into the kitchen and rushes to the stove. Quickly he turns on the gas. He
looks crazed. Turning to the air, he begins whispering loudly. " You touch me again and I'll set him on fire. I mean it. I'll kill him. I'll blow up the whole building if I have to. Stay away. "
Frank jabs at the knob on the stove and begins to turn it off. Ray sees it move. Shocked and frightened, he grabs it and pulls it off, leaving only the tiny stem in place.
" Go on, try it again. Let me see you turn it off now. "
Frank, frightened, tries with all his might but he cannot twist it.
Ray pulls out a cigarette lighter and gloats. " Try and hurt me. I'll kill him if you hurt me. "
Frank pulls back, shaken.
Ray stands there waiting for a blow that doesn't come. He begins to gloat. " What's a matter? You believe me, huh? You better believe me! I want my money. I need that money and I want it tonight -- at 11:00. If that psychic doesn't bring it here, Gerard's dead."
Frank freezes as Gerard enters the kitchen. He grabs his nose.
" Oh my God. Is that the gas? "
Ray acts as if that's the reason he came into the kitchen." You must have left the stove on. "
He fiddles with the dials and turns it off. " Just glad I smelled it. "
" Me, too. " He opens a window.
" Gerard, I'm sorry. I've got to go. Look, there's something going on. I can't talk now. Some trouble at the bank.
" Trouble? What kind of trouble? "
" I don't have time to talk now. What if I come back? Around 11:00? "
" Ray, what's going on? Let me help you. "
" I can't. I'm sorry to do this, but it's important. I'll be back. "
Gerard is speechless.
" Eleven! " He says as he rushes out the loft's door.
" Tell the guard you're here to see Lyle Furgeson. "
" Lyle Furgeson, please. "
" Do you have an appointment? "
" No. I'm here for the fun of it. "
" Don't say that! Tell him Brian Schechter here. "
" Tell him Brian Schechter's here. "
" Just one moment, please. "
" Don't embellish. " Frank chastised.
" Yes, Sir. " He salutes to Frank
" Excuse me? " The guard turns around.
Bob waves him on.
" Now listen, this guy Furgeson's a real jerk. I've known him five years and he still thinks my name's Paul. "
Mr. Furgeson looks up and sees Bob. He shrugs his shoulders.
" He's a social moron. You don't have to worry about anything, Bob. Tell the guard Furgeson knows you. You spent time with him and his wife Shirley at the Brewster's Christmas party last year. "
The Guard comes back. " What is this regarding? "
" What? He doesn't remember me? We were together at the Brewster's Christmas party. With his wife Shirley. They had that lovely tree. . . all those presents. I'll never forget all those beautiful--"
Frank pokes him. Bob yelps, surprised, and glances around. The Guard gives him an odd look.
" Oops. Gas. " He forces a smile.
The Guard smiles back and then goes over to Mr. Furgeson.
" This'll be easy, Bob. Furgeson was so drunk at that party, he could have had a conversation with Tina Turner and he wouldn't remember. "
The Guard whispers in Furgeson's ear.
Furgeson appears totally flummoxed. He looks up at Bob, embarrassed, and waves.
The Guard motions for Bob to come. Furgeson sticks out his hand. " Hello, hello. Of course, of course. It's been so long. "
" A long time. "
" Ask how Bobby and Snooky are. "
" How are Bobby and Snooky doin'? "
Furgeson is perplexed " Why, they're just fine, thank you. Nice of you to ask. And how is your. . . family? "
" Couldn't be better. "
" Well, isn't that wonderful. "
" Tell him you've been wondering how they did on the Gibraltar securities. "
" So tell me, Fergie, how did you do on the Gibraltar securities? "
" The Gibraltar securities! Well, it looks like we topped out, huh? "
" We sure did!" Shouts Frank.
" We sure did. "
" That was a wonderful tip. "
" Good old Randy. " Lyle smiles at Bob
" Yeah, good old Randy. Got a real head on his shoulders. "
" 'Her' shoulders. "
" Her shoulders. "
" Sure does. Well. . . . what brings you here today? "
" You're closing an account. "
" I'm closing an account. "
" Well . . . wonderful. Do you have your account number? "
" 926-31043. "
" 926-3143. "
" 31-0-43. "
Bob looks up into the air. Furgeson eyes him strangely. " Make that 31-0-43. . . Numbers. I'm dyslexic. "
He punches Brian Schechter's number into the computer. A figure appears on the screen. He stares at it for a few seconds and then punches it in again.
" Well, Brian, you'll be withdrawing four million dollars from us today, is that correct? "
" Four million dollars?! " Bob shouts loud.
" Say "yes", Bob! "
" Yes! Four million. That's right. That's right. "
" And how will you want that? "
" Tens and twenties? "
" Pardon? "
" A cashier's check! Tell him a cashier's check. "
" A cashier's check. "
" Fine. Of course, you realize we're required to get some identification from everyone. It's just procedural. You understand. "
" Of course. " Bob reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He pulls out a drivers license and social sercurity card.
Furgeson gets up and walks away from his desk. He seems unsteady on his feet.
Furgeson lays Brian's ID next to his signature card. The signatures match up and he nods his head in approval.
Mr. Furgeson returns with Brian Schechter's signature card and a cashier's check for $4,000,000. Bob's hand shakes as he examines it.
" I'll just need your signature right here.
" Sure. "
Frank looks up from the commotion at the table and checks for the guard " Make sure you sign Brian Schechter this time. " Frank gulps hard.
Gerard has just entered the bank.
" I'll be back in a minute. You're on your own. Don't say anything foolish. "
Bob signs a form closing the account. Of course the signatures match. Mr. Furgeson examines them both and smiles. He shakes Bob's hand. " Now you be careful with this. It's like carrying cash, you know. "
Bob is glowing. " I sure do. "
Frank rushes over to Gerard.
He is not sure what to do. He notices a stack of deposit forms on the counter he is about
to pass. He hurries to it and flicks the entire stack, a hundred sheets, flying up into the air.
Gerard, confused, thinks he is responsible and stoops to pick them up. Frank, delighted, flicks another stack.
Bob is talking a blue streak when Frank returns to him.
" Then my Father took all the money from the oil wells and put it in gasoline pumps. Every gas station has 'em you know, sometimes six or more. It adds up. "
"Bob, stop, come on. We gotta get out of here. Say goodbye. "
" Well, I've got to leave. It's been a pleasure doin' business with you. "
" Thank you, good bye.
Frank notices a new swagger in his walk. Frank sees Gerard about to stand up.
" Hurry up, Bob Bryar. "
" What a day! "
Gerard sees him, does a double take, and starts to go after him.
Unfortunately, Bob steps onto an elevator before Gerard can catch up. The doors close. Gerard stops for a moment and then looks back across to the executive area. He sees Lyle Furgeson and hurries over to him.
" Lionel? "
He is surprised to see her and grows instantly solicitous.
" Gerard. How are you? "
" Lionel, that man who just left, did you see him? "
" Well, yes. I just took care of him. "
" What did she want? Did it have anything to do with me? Did he ask about Frank? "
" Frank? No. Why? "
" Was his name Bob Bryar? "
" No, Brian Schechter. He just closed an account. "
Gerard stares at Furgeson. He is not sure what to think.
" Is there a problem, Gerard? "
" No. I guess not. Thanks.
He walks away, confused.
*_______*
Ray, in front of his computer, is going crazy. He keeps punching buttons on the keyboard but the same response appears over and over on the screen. "BRIAN SCHECHTER, #926-31043. ACCOUNT CLOSED. BALANCE $00.00."
Panicked, Ray jumps up. He moves quickly, erratically around the office and then back to the computer. He punches the keys over and over. The same answer appears on the screen.
The account is closed.
He looses it.
*________*
Frank and Bob are walking down the street in front of the bank. " Bob. I need the check. "
Bob stops with a nervous look on his face. " Why? it's not like you can hold it or anything. . . right? "
" Just take it out of your wallet. You know what I mean. "
Bob removes the check but holds onto it tightly.
" Now endorse it. Sign Brian Schechter. "
" Endorse it?! Why? "
" Do what I say. "
" No! "
" That's blood money, Bobbie. I was killed for that money. Endorse it now. "
" What are you going to do with it? "
" We're giving it away. "
" Away? What do you mean? To who? "
" Look to your left. "
He looks at the nuns collecting money for the homeless. He recoils. " Are you outta your mind? "
" Do what I tell you. "
" No! " He clutches the check harder. " I can't. "
" Yes, you can. If you don't do it, they'll track you down. Your only protection is to get rid of it, now. "
" Sweet Jesus, you're killing me, Frankie. "
" Frankie? "
" You call me Bobbie a lot so why can't I give you a nickname? "
" Frankie. " He smiles wildly at Bob. " Alright then, but I'm saving you, Bob. You'll go to heaven for this. "
Bob growls at him, but with great difficulty, he approaches the nuns.
The nuns look at him with curiosity and compassion.
" Write "St. Joseph's Shelter". "
With great hesitation, Bob begins to write. Every word is a torment for him. The nuns politely avert their eyes from the check.
" Bless you, child. " One says.
Bob gives her a dirty look and hands the check over.
" I'm proud of you, Bobbie! "
" Don't you talk to me. I don't want you comin' round no more. I mean it. Understand? "
" Come on, we're friends. "
" Friends? Friends?! "
" Well, I think you're wonderful, Bob Bryar. "
He growls again.
*_______*
It is after hours. Almost everyone on the floor has gone. Ray, hunched over his computer, is typing furious commands on the keyboard. He looks haggard and worn.
Sequence after sequence of coded numbers flash past on the
monitor screen.
Frank, sitting in a desk chair, watches, smiling. " Search, fucker! You'll never find it. It's gone. They'll kill you for this, Ray. You and Willie. They'll wipe you off the face of the earth. "
In a moment of childish delight, he pushes his feet against the wall and the chair shoots across the room. Ray looks up and sees an empty chair moving. He stares at it in confusion,
and then goes back to the screen. He seems desperate. Nothing is working.
Panicked and frightened, Ray flicks off the machine and storms furiously around the room. Frank approaches the computer, hesitates a moment, and then pushes the power switch. The
computer clicks back on. Ray spins around. He stares at the computer curiously for a moment and then turns it back off.
Frank, enjoying this, reaches for the switch and flicks it back on again.
Ray stares at it. " What the. . .? "
Ray watches as the keys seem to depress themselves and letters begin appearing on the screen. He sits down, mesmerized by what is happening. Then his face grows tense.
The word "M-U-R-D-E-R-E-R" is emerging before him.
Ray flies out of his chair, frantically running around to see who else is on the floor. He yells out like a madman. " Who's doing that? "
There is no one there. He hears the computer beginning to type again and hurries back to look at the screen. One word appears. "F-R-A-N-K".
Ray gasps and smashes the computer with his fist. It crashes to the floor. Electrical sparks go flying as Ray gasps for breath.
" It's dinner time, Ray Don't you have a date with Gerard, you creepy son-of-a bitch? "
*______*
Gerard, all dressed to go out, is sitting in Frank's easy chair almost asleep.
Suddenly Ray arrives knocking at his door. He does not look well. Frank is with him.
" Ray? Where were you? I thought we were having. . .? "
" I'm sorry. Things just got so crazy. I completely forgot. "
" Forgot? Is everything okay? Are you all right? "
" I'm okay. I'm alright. Look, can I talk to you for minute? Can I come in? "
Gerard eyes Ray with concern as he enters the loft.
" I need to ask you a question, Gee. "
" He needs to borrow four million dollars. " Frank laughs out loud.
" Gerard, that psychic, I want to know what he told you. I want to know what he said. "
" Ray, stop this. It was all a hoax. I told you. It wasn't real. He's a charlatan." Gerard hesitates before he says his next sentence. " Does this have anything to do with him being at the bank today? "
Ray gulps. " At the bank? "
Frank tenses.
" I'm sure I saw him. Furgeson says he was taking out money. It turns out his name isn't even Bob Bryar. It's Brian Schechter or something. "
Ray turns white. His eyes bulge. He feels sick.
" What's wrong? "
" Stomach. My stomach. Do you have anything? Pepto Bismol. "
" Sure. Just a second. "
Frank digs his hands into Ray's back. Ray jerks forward in intense pain and begins flailing at the air. " What are you doing to me. Get away! Get away! "
Frank does not go away.
Freaked, Ray runs into the kitchen and rushes to the stove. Quickly he turns on the gas. He
looks crazed. Turning to the air, he begins whispering loudly. " You touch me again and I'll set him on fire. I mean it. I'll kill him. I'll blow up the whole building if I have to. Stay away. "
Frank jabs at the knob on the stove and begins to turn it off. Ray sees it move. Shocked and frightened, he grabs it and pulls it off, leaving only the tiny stem in place.
" Go on, try it again. Let me see you turn it off now. "
Frank, frightened, tries with all his might but he cannot twist it.
Ray pulls out a cigarette lighter and gloats. " Try and hurt me. I'll kill him if you hurt me. "
Frank pulls back, shaken.
Ray stands there waiting for a blow that doesn't come. He begins to gloat. " What's a matter? You believe me, huh? You better believe me! I want my money. I need that money and I want it tonight -- at 11:00. If that psychic doesn't bring it here, Gerard's dead."
Frank freezes as Gerard enters the kitchen. He grabs his nose.
" Oh my God. Is that the gas? "
Ray acts as if that's the reason he came into the kitchen." You must have left the stove on. "
He fiddles with the dials and turns it off. " Just glad I smelled it. "
" Me, too. " He opens a window.
" Gerard, I'm sorry. I've got to go. Look, there's something going on. I can't talk now. Some trouble at the bank.
" Trouble? What kind of trouble? "
" I don't have time to talk now. What if I come back? Around 11:00? "
" Ray, what's going on? Let me help you. "
" I can't. I'm sorry to do this, but it's important. I'll be back. "
Gerard is speechless.
" Eleven! " He says as he rushes out the loft's door.
♠ ♠ ♠
almost done now guys!!!