Storm of the Century (9 page)

The two men ignore her--they have more immediate problems. They kneel on either side of the dead woman. MIKE ANDERSON is grim--shocked, but holding it in. Already focusing on the job at hand and the ramifications to follow. HATCH, on the other hand, is close to losing it. He looks up at MIKE, face pale, eyes full of tears. He speaks in a BARE WHISPER.

Mike . . . oh, my God, Mike . . . she got no face left! She-MIKE reaches out and puts a gloved finger across HATCH’S lips. He inclines his head toward the SOUND of the BABBLING TV. Someone might be listening. MIKE leans toward his shaking DEPUTY over the body of the dead woman.

(very low)

Are you going to be all right? Because if you’re not, I want you to hand me the twelve-gauge and go back to Robbie.

(low)

I’m all right.

Sure?

HATCH nods. MIKE considers him, then decides to believe him. He gets to his feet. HATCH does the same, then sways a little. He puts a hand on the wall to catch his balance, and smears some of that fine blood-spatter. He looks at his gloved hand with amazement and dismay.

MIKE points up the hall to the living room door--and the SOUND of the TV. HATCH gathers his
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courage and nods. Very slowly, the two men slip up the hallway. (All played for maximum suspense, of course.)

They are three-quarters of the way up the hall when the SOUND OF THE TV ABRUPTLY CUTS

OFF. HATCH’S shoulder brushes one of the pictures on the wall and knocks it off. MIKE catches it before it can clatter to the floor . . . mostly by good luck and fast reflexes. He and HATCH exchange a strained glance, then go on.

79 INTERIOR: THE DOORWAY BETWEEN HALL AND LIVING ROOM.

The two men come into the doorway. Looking at them from the living room, as we are, HATCH is on the left and MIKE on the right. They look at:

80 INTERIOR: THE LIVING ROOM, FROM MIKE AND HATCH’S POINT OF VIEW.

We see the BLOWN-OUT TV and MARTHA’S wing chair. Over the top of the chair, we see the top of LINOGE’S head. Very still. It’s probably a man’s head, but it’s impossible to tell if the guy is alive.

81 INTERIOR: RESUME HALL DOORWAY, WITH MIKE AND HATCH.

They exchange a glance, and MIKE nods them forward. CAMERA FOLLOWS as they move in on the back of the chair, very slowly. Three steps into the room, MIKE gestures for HATCH to move out wider. HATCH does so. MIKE moves in a step closer to the chair (we can see it now, as well as the MEN), then stops as a BLOODSTAINED HAND appears. It goes to the table beside the chair and takes a cookie.

(levels his gun)

Freeze!

The hand does just that--freezes in midair, holding the cookie.
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Raise your hands. Both hands, up over the chair. I want to see them clear as day. There are two guns pointed at you, and one of ‘em’s a scatter.

LINOGE raises his hands. He’s still holding the cookie in his left one.

MIKE indicates that HATCH should circle the chair to the front on his side. As HATCH does, MIKE

circles around on the right.

82 INTERIOR: MARTHA’S LIVING ROOM, ANGLE ON THE CHAIR.

LINOGE sits there, hands raised, face composed. There’s no sign of a weapon, but the men react to his bloodstained face and coat. LINOGE’S calm demeanor is in sharp contrast to MIKE and HATCH, who are wound as tight as guitar strings. Maybe we see here how suspects are sometimes shot by accident.

Hands together.

LINOGE puts his hands together, wrist to wrist and back to back.

83 OMIT.

84 EXTERIOR: IN FRONT OF MARTHA’S HOUSE.

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Several TOWNSFOLK hurry forward as far as the trunk of ROBBIE’S car. One is an older woman named ROBERTA COIGN.

What’s happened to Martha?

(shrill, near hysteria)

Just stay back! This is under control!

He points his pistol at the house again, and I think we have a real question about what may happen when and if MIKE and HATCH bring their prisoner out. ROBBIE is on a hair trigger.

85 INTERIOR: THE LIVING ROOM OF MARTHA’S HOUSE.

Extreme close-up, cuffs

MIKE (voice)

If he moves, shoot him.

CAMERA DRAWS BACK TO INCLUDE LINOGE, MIKE, HATCH

(low, pleasant, and composed)

If he shoots, he’ll get us both. That thing’s still loaded with buckshot.

Both men react to this. Not because it’s true, but because it could be true. Hell, HATCH might blow a
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hole through MIKE in any case; the two men are quite close together.

Also, he’s still got the safety on.

HATCH reacts with terrified realization: he has forgotten to take off the safety. While MIKE inexpertly fumbles the cuffs onto LINOGE’S wrists, HATCH fumbles the safety off. As he does, the gun leaves the vicinity of LINOGE completely. We need to see that LINOGE could take these two courageous but fumbling locals any time he wants . . . but chooses not to do so. The cuffs are on. MIKE steps back, very relieved. He and HATCH exchange a rather wild look.

But you remembered to wear gloves. That was good.

He begins to eat the cookie, oblivious of his blood-streaked hand.

On your feet.

LINOGE finishes the last bite of cookie and gets obediently to his feet.

86 EXTERIOR: MARTHA CLARENDON’S PORCH.

Beyond it, the snow is now coming hard, with the wind driving it into slanting lines. The houses on the far side of the street are misty, as if seen through a veil.

MIKE and LINOGE come out side by side, LINOGE with his hands cuffed at belt level, a look all of us are familier with from the evening news. HATCH is walking behind them, with the shotgun at port arms.

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In the street, there are now about a dozen people clustered by the rear bumper of ROBBIE’S Lincoln. When the men come out, ROBBIE crouches a little, and MIKE sees the man’s little glove compartment gun pointed at them.

Put that down!

Looking slightly ashamed, ROBBIE does.

Hatch, close the door.

Is that wise? I mean, aren’t we supposed to leave stuff pretty much like it is? It being a crime scene, and all-

We leave the door open and the crime scene’s going to be under six feet of fresh powder. Now close the door!

HATCH tries. One of MARTHA’S shoes is in the way. He squats. Grimacing, he moves her foot with one gloved hand. Then he gets up and closes the door. He looks at MIKE, who nods.

What’s your name, mister?

LINOGE looks at him. There’s a beat when we’re not sure he’s going to answer. Then:

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Andre Linoge.

Well, come on, Andre Linoge. Let’s get walking.

87 EXTERIOR: LINOGE, CLOSE-UP.

For just a moment, LINOGE’S eyes CHANGE. They SWIRL WITH BLACK, the blue irises and the whites disappearing. Then everything goes back to normal.

88 EXTERIOR: RESUME PORCH, WITH MIKE, HATCH, AND LINOGE.

MIKE blinks at the sight like a man trying to cope with a momentary attack of vertigo. HATCH hasn’t seen it, but MIKE has. LINOGE smiles at him, as if to say “our little secret.” Then we see MIKE’S

rationality reasserting itself, and he gives LINOGE a poke.

Come on. Move.

They go down the steps.

89 EXTERIOR: ON THE CONCRETE PATH.

The storm blows snow past them, smacking their faces, making them wince. HATCH’S hat BLOWS

OFF. As he looks helplessly after it, LINOGE gives MIKE that look again, the one that says they have a secret. MIKE is less able to shake it off this time . . . but he gets LINOGE moving.

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FADE OUT. THIS ENDS ACT 3.

Act 4

90 EXTERIOR: THE LITTLE TALL LIGHTHOUSE--LATE DAY.

The snow flies past it so thickly we can only make out its shape . . . and of course its light, each time it swings around. The waves CRASH HIGH on the rocks of this promontory. THE WIND SHRIEKS.

91 EXTERIOR: GODSOE FISH & LOBSTER--LATE DAY.

This long building--part warehouse, part retail fish market--is far out on the dock. Waves smash into the dock, and foam splatters high, wetting the sides and roof of the building. As we watch, the WIND tears a door free of its latch. It begins to BANG BACK AND FORTH. Nearby, a tarp blows free of the boat it’s covering and WHIRLS OFF INTO THE SNOWY DAY.

92 EXTERIOR: THE ANDERSON HOUSE--LATE DAY.

A four-wheel drive is parked at the curb, by the WEE FOLKS sign. Its windshield wipers are clapping back and forth rapidly, but the glass is still snowing up. Its headlights cut twin cones through the snow-choked air. The WEE FOLKS sign swings back and forth on its chain. On the porch, MOLLY

ANDERSON is handing over a bundled-up BUSTER CARVER and an equally bundled-up PIPPA HATCHER to their moms, ANGELA and MELINDA. THE CAMERA MOVES IN on the porch. All three women have to shout in order to be heard over the HOWLING WIND.

Pip, you sure you’re all right?

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Yes. Don Beals hurt my feelings, but they’re better now.

I’m sorry I had to call you early, guys . . .

It’s okay. The radio says they’re going to keep the bigger kids over in Machias, at least tonight . . . the reach is too choppy to send them back on the water-bus.

Probably for the best.

Mommy, I’m cold.

Coss you are--but you’ll be warm in the car, honey.

(to MOLLY)

Are there more?

Buster and Pippa are the last.

(to PIPPA)

You had an adventure, didn’t you?

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Yes. Momma, I’ve got a smaller button!

She honks her own nose. Neither MELINDA nor ANGELA understand, but they laugh. It’s cute; they understand that much.

We’ll see you Monday, if the roads are open. Wave a bye, Buster.

BUSTER obediently waves a bye. MOLLY waves one back as the mothers carry their babies down the steps and into the increasing fury of the storm. Then she goes back inside.

93 INTERIOR: THE ANDERSON HOUSE FRONT HALL, WITH MOLLY AND RALPHIE.

There’s a mirror about halfway down, by the telephone table. RALPHIE has pulled a chair over and is standing on it so he can look at that red mark on the bridge of his nose. It’s a birthmark, but actually more cute than disfiguring.

MOLLY hardly notices him. She’s relieved to be in out of the storm, and even more relieved that her little charges have all been packed home for the day. She shakes the snow out of her hair, then takes off her parka and hangs it up. She looks at the stairs, winces at the memory of PIPPA’S misadventure, then snorts laughter.

(to herself)

The smaller button!

(still looking in the mirror)

Mommy, why do I have to have this?

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MOLLY goes to him, plants her chin on his shoulder, and looks at him in the mirror. They make a rather lovely mother-and-son portrait that way. She reaches around and touches the little red mark on his nose with love.

Your daddy calls it a fairy saddle. He says it means you were born lucky.

Donnie Beals says it’s a pimple.

Donnie Beals is a ... Donnie Beals is a nut.

She grimaces briefly. “Nut” isn’t the word she’d probably use, if given a free choice.

I don’t like it. Even if it is a fairy saddle.

Myself, I love it... but if you still feel the same way when you’re older, we’ll take you to Bangor and have it removed. They can do that now. Okay?

How much older do I have to be?

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Ten--how’s that?

Too long to wait. Ten’s old.

The phone rings. MOLLY picks it up.

Hello?

94 INTERIOR: THE MARKET, WITH CAT WITHERS.

She’s on the phone behind the counter. TESS MARCHANT is running the checkout operation by herself for the time being. There’s still quite a line, although with the storm now on the rise, it’s thinned a bit. Those people that are left BUZZ EXCITEDLY about the police call to the CLARENDON house.

CAT

There you are, I’ve been trying to get you for almost ten minutes.

95 INTERIOR: THE ANDERSON HALL, WITH MOLLY AND RALPHIE.

[Through the rest of this conversation, the director will cut back and forth as he/she chooses, but we should see MOLLY almost unconsciously censoring her end, not asking all the questions she’d like to ask, because little pitchers have big ears.]

I’ve mostly been out on the porch, handing kids over to their parents. I sent them home early. What’s up, Katrina?

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