Jack is wobbling a little bit after popping four Xanax.
Jack, you sure you’re all right? You’re kind of tipsy.
I’m on some new medication. Maybe I should sit and have some coffee for a bit.
By the way, how is your writing going.
I wrote something down, so I guess I’m actually a writer now.
There’s truth to that Jack. If you write, you’re a writer. Go in the back. Take your time.
INT. Lion of Judah Bookstore- Stock Room – Mid-Morning
Jack is paging through some books and notices one, a biography on the life of Ernest Hemingway. He picks it up and starts browsing through it, looking at the rough and tough mustachioed writer. Through blurry eyes, Jack begins to hallucinate and a picture of Hemingway begins slowly talking to him. At first he looks around and then slaps himself, but it is very real.
Kopecky. What in the hell are you? Some kind of sissy! Look at your life! You can’t handle anything, you’re not a man, Jesus, you’re not enough to even be a dame, besides keep a dame. And saying you’re a writer? You wrote a paragraph about a beaver.
Well, it was a brave beaver.
I’m acting like I didn’t hear that. Now I was brave, a war hero, and you! You can’t even hold your liquor now. You had to quit for good. You’re a poor excuse for a man.
At least I didn’t off myself.
That is a strong man’s way out. I chose my own path, so did your father. We pick when we grow tired of this life and want out. We punch our own ticket and don’t need anyone to handle our business. Hell, you’re even to cowardly to do that.
Jack slams the book shut and speaks out loud.
Jesus, I think I’m going crazy or I gotta cut back on some of these meds.
Jack picks up his phone and calls his voice-mail and listens to his dad’s last message from a year and a half ago.
Tom Sr (Voice-Mail)
Jack, I hope everything is going well. I haven’t heard from you in a while. You gotta come over so I can beat you in a game of chess. Love you, dad.
Love you too dad.