Merlinsky: The Sorcerer's Apprentice

turns back to Jake:

  HARRY (continuing): Remember which one the ball was under?

  JAKE: Yes.

  HARRY: Don't show me. It was this one, right?

  Jake smiles and nods. Harry lifts the shell, as the crowd applauds.

  Jake melts back into the crowd, and Harry points at him.

  HARRY (continuing): Whaddaya say we give him a hand, folks, give him a hand.

  The crowd applauds.

  Harry pulls a rubber hand from the bag, mock "offers" it to Jake, who doesn't see it as he returns to the crowd. Harry throws the hand over his shoulder, then starts to put the shells back in his bag, one at a time, revealing an identical red ball under each.

  The crowd reacts to each shell.

  Harry then reaches into the bag to pull out a bowling pin.

  HARRY (continuing): Found this in the alley out back. (pause) Saved it from a fate worse than death... being hit by a gutter ball...

  The crowd groans.

  Harry examines the pin, then remembers Man #1:

  HARRY (continuing): Have you finished separating the face cards from the number cards yet?

  MAN #1 (long-suffering voice): Yes...

  Harry lets the crowd in on the con:

  HARRY: Kept him busy, didn't I? He thought I was actually gonna use those cards.

  Harry admonishes Man #1:

  HARRY (continuing): What the heck am I gonna do with a deck with no aces and queens?

  Harry waves the man off, dismissing the idea, then reaches for the bowling pin again. As he looks down the street, he sees something that rattles him. He takes off his fedora, lays it on the ground, and starts packing up his kit.

  HARRY (continuing, hurriedly): Folks, I'm sorry, the bowling pin will hafta wait until the next show, just down the street here, in a half-hour. If you enjoyed yourselves, you can show your appreciation in a concrete way by droppin' something in the hat. And I don't mean gum wrappers!

  The crowd starts to disperse, some dropping money into the hat. Jake walks up to Harry.

  JAKE: I wish I had seen more of your show... you're good! I'd love to learn how you do all that stuff.

  HARRY: Glad ya liked it, kid... maybe we can set up some lessons for ya.

  Harry looks out of the corner of his eye, down the street, and starts packing his things in a rush.

  HARRY (continuing): Look, kid, can ya do me a favor?

  JAKE: Sure!

  HARRY: Take the money in that hat, put it in your pocket, and limp down the street, that way.

  Harry points in the opposite direction from the one that's been bothering him.

  JAKE: I can't take your money!

  HARRY: It's just temporary, sport... I'll catch up with ya later. And if anyone chases ya, run.

  JAKE: What do you mean?

  HARRY: You know, run, as in walking very fast. Now take the cash and get going, and do a good limp.

  Jake hesitates, then picks up the money, grabs his suitcase, and limps off down the street. From the other direction, OFFICER FINN, a fat, sweating policeman, walks up to Harry.

  FINN: Harry, if I've told you once, I've told you a million times; if you want to do this for money, get a permit.

  HARRY: Joe, I'm not doing it for money... it's for charity. See, there's no money in my hat... I gave it all to that crippled kid.

  FINN: An accomplice, eh?

  Finn heads after Jake.

  FINN (continuing, to Jake): Hey kid, come back here, I want to talk to you.

  Jake looks around, confused.

  HARRY (yelling): Run, kid, run. He thinks you stole it!

  Jake, frightened, takes off running. Harry finishes packing, and lights out the other way. Finn, seeing he's been had, starts in one direction, then the other. He clearly doesn't like the prospect of running in the heat, and shrugs, mopping his brow.

  EXT. VINE STREET - ONE HOUR LATER

  Jake strolls aimlessly down the street, carrying his suitcase and looking in restaurant windows... he's hungry.

  Unseen by Jake, a hooked cane slides out of an alleyway and around his neck, yanking him into the alley.

  EXT. VINE STREET ALLEY - CONTINUOUS

  Harry's in the alley, much to Jake's surprise.

  HARRY: You can't just mosey on down the street like that... ya gotta keep an eye out for that fat butt flatfoot!

  JAKE: Sorry, Mr. Merlinsky.

  HARRY: You can call me Harry. What didja say your name was?

  JAKE: Jake Timmons, sir.

  HARRY: Ya gotta loosen up, Jake, if you're gonna be my apprentice.

  JAKE: Your apprentice?!

  HARRY: Ya hafta keep an eye on your wallet, too.

  Harry hands Jake's wallet back to him.

  JAKE (astounded): How'd you do that? When do I start? Being your apprentice, I mean? Can we eat first? What...

  HARRY: One at a time, one at a time, kid. (pause) I know a diner right up the street... we can strap on the old feed bag and keep outta sight until Officer Finn goes home.

  Jake pulls some coins out of his pocket.

  JAKE: Here's your money...

  HARRY: That'll be your first paycheck... you earned it. Besides, when I dipped yer wallet, a moth flew out.

  JAKE: I'm gonna get paid?!

  HARRY (smiling): If ya play your cards right, I might even be persuaded to cook ya a hot supper tonight.

  JAKE: That would be swell!

  HARRY: You don't have a place to stay either, do ya?

  JAKE: Well...

  HARRY: That's okay, kid, I got a couch you can sleep on.

  JAKE: Why are you helping me out like this?

  HARRY: Let's say I knew you'd step off that trolley today and start helping me out... now let's go get some grub.

  EXT. SIDE STREET IN THE HOLLYWOOD HILLS - NEAR DUSK

  Jake, carrying his suitcase, and Harry, carrying his kit, walk slowly up the tree-lined street; both look bushed.

  HARRY: How long ya plannin' to stay in town?

  Jake looks troubled.

  JAKE: I came here to find my fortune.

  Harry pulls some money out of his pocket and looks at it.

  HARRY: We did okay for three shows, but this business won't make ya rich, kid.

  JAKE (stubborn): Well, I can't go back to St. Louis.

  Jake has a certain finality in his voice that stops Harry from pursuing this further.

  HARRY: My little shack is over yonder.

  Harry points out a medium-sized stone mansion, vaguely medieval, and largely overgrown with vines and weeds.

  JAKE: You live here?

  HARRY: No place like home.

  JAKE: This place looks haunted.

  HARRY: Nah, the ghosts all left. Couldn't stand my snoring.

  JAKE: It still looks creepy.

  HARRY (fake sincerity): But it's real comfy inside.

  INT. HARRY'S MANSION - CONTINUOUS

  Jake and Harry enter the front door... as they do, Harry notices that the area around the lock looks slightly blackened.

  HARRY (continuing, mumbling): So! He knows...

  JAKE: What?

  HARRY: Oh, nuthin'. C'mere, I wantcha to meet someone.

  Harry pulls Jake into a large room whose walls are lined with books, ancient tomes, from the floor to eight feet up. A stuffed alligator hangs from the high ceiling, and the furniture is draped with sheets. In the middle of the room, standing on a wooden perch and facing away from Harry and Jake, is a stuffed OWL. Or is it? A deep voice booms from the general direction of this owl.

  SOCRATES: Harry, what have you dragged in this time?

  JAKE (frightened): Wh-hoo-hoo said that?

  The owl's head swivels to face Harry.

  SOCRATES: Is he making fun of me?

  Harry leads Jake over to the perch.

  HARRY: Jake, I'd like ya to meet Socrates. He's older than dirt.

  JAKE: This bird talks?

  SOCRATES (drily): I was about to ask the same question about you, buster. (pause, offended) And Harry... y
ou can lose those wisecracks about my age.

  HARRY: Sorry, old timer. Wouldja tell Jake the story about that king ya used to hang out with?

  SOCRATES: You mean the kid who pulled the sword from the stone?

  HARRY: That's the one.

  JAKE: He knew Arthur?

  SOCRATES: I know all the biggies, kid. Let me tell you about the wizard who introduced me and Artie...

  As Jake and Socrates chat, Harry slips off to the kitchen.

  INT. HARRY'S KITCHEN - TWO HOURS LATER

  Jake wipes his mouth with a napkin, and Harry smokes a cigar, his fedora pushed back. Socrates grooms his feathers, while sitting on a perch next to the table.

  JAKE: You're quite a cook, Harry.

  SOCRATES: And my rodent al dente was done to a "T". What kind was it?

  HARRY: Rat. I got it outta one of the basement traps.

  SOCRATES: I don't know what it is... but lately the cellar rats are more succulent than usual.

  HARRY: I'm glad everybody's full. Jake, are ya ready for one more performance?

  JAKE: We're going back out on the streets?

  HARRY: Nah... I want you to see the Magic Castle.

  JAKE: What's that?

  HARRY: A private club for magicians. I do a gig over there once in awhile.

  SOCRATES: That's where he shows his real stuff.

  INT. MAGIC CASTLE "PALACE OF MYSTERY", BACKSTAGE - ONE HOUR LATER

  Scenic backdrops, curtain cables and lighting equipment dominate a small, typical behind-the-scenes area. AUDIENCE SOUNDS come from the other side of the curtain. A pretty, young, blonde production assistant, CONNIE BERRIGAN, rushes around with a clipboard, doing a last-minute check on performance details. As she turns away from the lighting control board, she bumps into Jake.

  CONNIE (softly): If you're going onstage tonight, you'd better get dressed. We're almost ready to start.

  JAKE: Oh, I can't do that stuff. I'm here with Harry... er, the Great Merlinsky.

  CONNIE: You are?! He's the best magician I ever saw!

  JAKE: And you probably see a lot of them...

  CONNIE: Yeah, I have to do quite a bit of their set up.

  JAKE: It must be fascinating work.

  CONNIE: Usually. But some of these guys just use magic to cover up the fact that they're basically jerks...

  Connie sniffles,