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America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | turns | How many times the word 'turns' appears in the text? | 3 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | fatal | How many times the word 'fatal' appears in the text? | 0 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | miami | How many times the word 'miami' appears in the text? | 0 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | huddled | How many times the word 'huddled' appears in the text? | 2 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | fired | How many times the word 'fired' appears in the text? | 0 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | paces | How many times the word 'paces' appears in the text? | 1 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | sudddenly | How many times the word 'sudddenly' appears in the text? | 1 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | turn | How many times the word 'turn' appears in the text? | 2 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | me | How many times the word 'me' appears in the text? | 2 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | chewing | How many times the word 'chewing' appears in the text? | 3 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | bottom | How many times the word 'bottom' appears in the text? | 1 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | mighty | How many times the word 'mighty' appears in the text? | 1 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | unopened | How many times the word 'unopened' appears in the text? | 1 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | pellets | How many times the word 'pellets' appears in the text? | 3 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | regrets | How many times the word 'regrets' appears in the text? | 0 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | some | How many times the word 'some' appears in the text? | 2 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | equal | How many times the word 'equal' appears in the text? | 0 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | sardines | How many times the word 'sardines' appears in the text? | 2 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | whoever | How many times the word 'whoever' appears in the text? | 1 |
America. Might have found something useful. She takes out a hand-drawn map. APRIL A map of the stars, as recorded by an Aztec Shaman. They pinpoint the location of the Stars of Kikin... even though the names changed. DONATELLO For use in an Aztec calendar. (picks up map) So, if we can cross-reference our current star field, positioning of the Stars of Kikin and backtrack positioning based off of the Aztec CALENDAR- APRIL -along with taking into account the point of origin of the first occurrence, we should know where another portal could take place. (to herself) Max, what are you up to? 64. Leo paces back and forth in the main area. Splinter walks in. Mikey plays video games on the main TV. SPLINTER Leonardo, time cannot be moved faster by wearing a groove in our floor. MICHAELANGELO Seriously, dude. We're all stressed. Try to chill. LEONARDO You're playing video games on the possible eve of Armageddon, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (INSULTED) But I never said I was having fun. Leo looks at the clock. LEONARDO Where's Raph? SPLINTER Leonardo, a true leader knows the virtue of patience... and when to stop exercising it. DONATELLO We're almost done, Leo. You might want to go get him... If you can find him, that is. Leo looks at Splinter, clearly feeling leadership pressure and Raph's absence makes it worse. He leaves the lair. CUT TO: EXT. NYC SHORELINE - NIGHT 70 70 Relatively peaceful. A few freighters off in the distance. Tall dry grass rustles in the wind, as we see a- - TREASURE HUNTER - A stocky middle-aged FAT MAN with a clicking metal detector. Big goofy earphones cover his ears. TREASURE HUNTER (SINGING) Monay, monay, monay, MONAYYYY (really high-pitched, bad) ...monay! POV FROM WATER - Steadicam shot, watching the man patrol under the light of the moon. W P 65. The clicking intensifies. He follows the signal for twenty feet. Drops to the ground and digs the sand... . ..and comes up with a old unopened CAN OF SARDINES. TREASURE HUNTER Pfft. Figgers. He turns to leave the beach. TREASURE HUNTER Lousy metal detector. "Happy Anniversary" present, my big fat keister. He HURLS the can of sardines over his shoulder. Only, instead of hearing a tiny SPLASH from it hitting the water... we hear a snarling CRUNCH and TINNY-CHEWING. The man stops in his tracks. He turns his head around. CLOSE ON - Man's face, eyes wide in shock. Cam pulls back, slowing just as the crown of a GNARLY SKULL crests the bottom of the screen. PTOOEY! - The tin "key" is spit back onto the sand. He bolts. TREASURE HUNTER AAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!! CUT TO: INT. WINTERS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT 71 71 It's dark. Barely lit in the hallways of the top private floors of Winters Tower. The camera travels the long and ornate hallways. Decorated in a different sense than the main building... in a sense of family, tradition and legacy. ictures spanning centuries in age. Some photos. Some portraits. Families. Loved ones. 72 72 INT. WINTERS STUDY - CONTINUOUS Cam continues until we find a high-backed chair parked in front of an oversized blazing FIREPLACE. ON CHAIR - Winters sits. Tired. Sullen. Sipping brandy. Looks above the fireplace and lifts his snifter in a toast. INTERS To picking up the pieces. 66. ABOVE FIREPLACE - is a suit of armor... THE suit of armor of none other than Yaotl the Conqueror. He looks at it with heavy thought. Then- WINTERS What is it? Winters doesn't turn around. Stays in E-FG. Cam adjusts to show the shape of GENERAL AGUILA in the doorway. GENERAL AGUILA Two creatures remain, my lord. A long beat. Winters closes his eyes. WINTERS Well, by all means then. Let's finish it. ON AGUILA - He squints. Deep in thought and not sharing. CUT TO: EXT. ROOFTOPS - NIGHT 73 73 Nightwatcher runs along the rooftops. He pauses. He lifts his visor to feel the night air on his face. He sees WINTERS TOWER in the distance... practically egging him on. CUT TO: EXT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 74 74 Classic Diner design, Pete's Diner is closed for the evening. The last light goes out. INT. PETE'S DINER - CONTINUOUS 75 75 A greasy DINER COOK finishes cleaning up the tables. He suddenly hears a noise in the back. Big CLANK. KITCHEN - He walks to the back. He hears the noise... now from inside the WALK-IN FREEZER. He slowly approaches it. ANOTHER NOISE. He moves to open INSIDE OF FREEZER - the door slowly opens. The man's face peers in. His eyes go WIDE. He SCREAMS!!! EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS 76 76 Nightwatcher hears the scream. Runs to the source and looks down at Pete's Diner. Sees the commotion inside. Uses his bolo chain and a power cable to form a ZIP LINE down the street as- 67. 77 77 INT. PETE'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER -KERSMASH! He goes through the front window! He stands, cat- like. Ready for anything. The room is only lit by the neon signage behind the counter. Suddenly - Night creeps to the freezer. He can hear the CHEWING and the SNARLING behind the thick door. He takes out a spiked brass- knuckle. Ready. Places a hand on the door... and opens it. ON DOORWAY - The creature is huddled over a pile of frozen meat. Chewing with pieces flying everywhere. Disgusting. It turns around - monkey-like and ferocious looking DEMON... but "cute" in a bizarre kinda way. Music builds as go- WIDER ON SIDE VIEW - Night stands there. The horrible demon creature suddenly jumps out of the freezer too! Face off with Raph as we realize- -it's only THREE FEET TALL! NIGHTWATCHER Hey there little fella. All that commotion for just little ole y- The Demon SCREAMS! It jumps Night, slamming him to the floor behind a row of tables! NIGHTWATCHER (O.S.) WAHH! OOOF! AAAGGH! OW!! WHOAAA!!! Plates, glasses and utensils fly everywhere, smashing all over the diner as the Demon pummels him. CLOSE ON NIGHT - The Demon is jumping up and down, slamming his helmeted head repeatedly to the floor! It lunges forward, mouth open as Night backhands it with a PLATE. The Demon jumps back and up, landing on a rotating CEILING FAN. T he creature lunges down again, but this time, Night is ready. He fights back. Like fighting with a Chihuahua hopped up on cocaine. A break in the fight. The creature has disappeared. Night knows he's there. He preps. Grabs his SMOKE PELLETS from his pocket. And waits... until... ...the Demon swoops in for another attack! Mouth open, fangs bared as Night tosses the smoke pellets inside! WIDE - POOOMPH! POOOMPH! POOOMPH! The pellets explode in its mouth, sending smoke shooting out of it's nostrils, ears and eyes! It shrieks, flying out of the Diner! A 68. NIGHTWATCHER (victory taunting) Yeah! That's what I thought! Don't mess with the Nightwatcher! Night turns. His helmet is still on. He hits his LIGHTS on the side of his head to see through the thick smoke. He finds the DINER COOK huddled behind the counter. Night looks scary. DINER COOK Pl-pl-please don't hurt me! NIGHTWATCHER Whattaya talkin' about? I JUST SAVED YOU! DINER COOK Please, sir. I have kids. Night looks around. He sees the CASH REGISTER on the floor. He picks it up, puts it on the counter. NIGHTWATCHER There ya go, pal. Make sure this is safe. HEY - YOU HEARIN' ME? DINER COOK TAKE IT! JUST TAKE IT! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE! NIGHTWATCHER LISTEN! I DON'T WANT YER FRIGGIN' CASH! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE SUCH A HARD TIME BELIEVIN' I'M A GOOD GUY? (points threatening) I JUST SAVED YOUR STINKIN' LIFE! Sudddenly - SHINK! - a THROWING STAR is lodged in the cash register till! Night jumps. Looks out the window. CAM PULLS WAY WAY BACK, REALLY FAST - Out the Diner and to the rooftop across the street... and over the green shoulders of LEO. ll he sees is a panicked man and the large shape of Nightwatcher standing over him, holding the register. CLOSE ON LEO - He's fuming. Staring down at Nightwatcher. The frustration of the last few days pent up inside of him. B ACK IN DINER - Night slowly lays down the register. Trying to figure out his next move. NIGHTWATCHER This night just keeps gettin' better n' better... H 69. Tense stand-off as... Night suddenly bolts out the back as Leo bolts the roof in hot pursuit! 78 78 EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS - CONTINUOUS Night tears down the streets and through back alleys. Leo keeps up with him effortlessly, hurling an assortment of THROWING STARS his way. Night suddenly DASHES OUT into traffic! Jumping over passing cars from roof to roof! LEONARDO Nice try, amateur. Leo crosses the busy street while still maintaining his secrecy. Zip lines through power lines, avoids an oncoming bus, and flips back onto a cable. e swings and manages to snag Nightwatcher in mid-leap! LEONARDO Oof! You're a heavy boy, aren't you? They both land on a fire escape, as Night clamors to the top. Leo wastes no time in catching up. 79 79 EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS The chase continues. Night giving it his all, and Leo keeping up pretty easily. He throws Leo a pretty strong curveball, and Leo barely recovers. LEONARDO Okay, someone's been training pretty hard. It begins to spit rain - and becomes a FRANK MILLER DOWNPOUR. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 80 80 Night reaches an area that's a DEAD END. One side of the buildings has a LARGE LETTERED SIGN facing away. Fills the rooftop with silhouettes. No choice but to turn around... ...as Leo slows to a stop at the other end of the building. LEONARDO I want you to know that I appreciate your intentions. But you can't change the world like this. INSIDE HELMET - All we hear is rain pouring. Raph can't hear Leo - just sees him wagging his finger at him. 70. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) L Oh god. He's lecturing. EONARDO (now audible) ...so I'm going to give you one chance to just walk away and stop this vigilante nonsense. Leo unsheathes his two katanas. Raph can't hear him. NIGHTWATCHER (to himself in helmet) Okay, Leo. Wanna play? Nightwatcher drops TWIN BOLOS. He twirls them with expertise... then motions for Leo to fight. Charge at each other, running through the rain, weapons drawn. They fight. Hard. And with expertise. Two masters duking it out. It surprises Leo. It fills Night with more adrenaline. There's a break. They circle like tigers. Renewing attacks. Night knows every one of Leo's moves, and counters in turn. LEONARDO What? How did you- ...then he starts goading him on. Pushing Leo. Prodding. Making him MAD. ...and then Leo fights back. HARD. Night can't keep up. Leo uses every bit of his control, restraint and expertise. He surgically slices the bind under Night's helmet. He jumps on top of the vigilante. LEONARDO Goodnight, dark prince. Leo UPPERCUTS Night, knocking his helmet off! His face falls... IT'S RAPHAEL! Leo pales. LEONARDO R-raph? (THINKS) What? But Raph doesn't feel like explaining. Refuses defeat. RAPHAEL AAAAAAAAGHH!! He mule kicks Leo back. Leo tumbles back, still in shock. They yell at each other through the pouring rain. 71. RAPHAEL You're so friggin' smug! You think the world revolves around YOU, dontcha? That we couldn't POSSIBLY survive without the mighty and powerful Leonardo to guide us through our problems, HUH?! (PACES) Well, I gotta newsflash for ya - we got along just fine without you. LEONARDO I was training! Training to be a better leader! For you! Why do you hate me for that?! RAPHAEL ...and whoever said I wanted to be led? I shoulda gone on that training! LEONARDO Y OU WEREN'T READY! You're impatient and hot-tempered! And more importantly... I'm better than you. Raph stops in his tracks. Reaches behind his back... and pulls out his TWIN SAIS. He flips them to the front. RAPHAEL Well, big brother, I'd have to disagree with you on that one. Raph takes a ready stance. Leo does too. And they fight. Brother vs. brother. Katana vs. Sai. Technique vs. Heart. EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS 81 81 In another part of the city, the Generals have caught the Demon from Pete's Diner. As they carry him to the caravan, their RADIO COMM goes off. KARAI (O.S.) The Foot report of strange activity five blocks north of your location. GENERAL SERPIENTE The final creature. EXT. ROOFTOP DEAD END - CONTINUOUS 82 82 Camera RISES UP until we reach the rooftop where Leo and Raph continue to duke it out in the rain. They battle. In the end, Raph becomes an uncontrollable ball of anger, unleashing everything on Leo. R 72. It ends with Raph pinning Leo to the ground... holding a sai MILLIMETERS FROM HIS EYEBALL! Tense. Raph shakes. He looks like he's going to do it... then stops. He collapses back. Almost ashamed of what he's done. Leo just can't believe that Raph bested him. They pant heavily. The rain dies down. Raph RUNS AWAY, across a few rooftops. Away from his brother. He suddenly STOPS and looks back at Leo, small in the distance. CLOSE ON LEO - A SHADOW suddenly falls over him. He looks up to see the FOUR GENERALS surrounding him. He tries to fight back... but is too wiped from Raph. GATO POV - "reading" Leo on the ground. He frowns. GENERAL GATO It is neither monster nor human. CLOSE ON AGUILA - He manages a small smile. GENERAL AGUILA Then he shall perfectly serve our purposes... let us inform our commander that the final creature has been captured. ON RAPH - He sees the commotion from afar... as Leo gets TRANQUILIZED with the Generals' dart cannon. RAPHAEL LEO!!! Raph runs closer as the Generals lower to the ground and drive off. Raph jumps from rooftop to rooftop to try and catch his brother. RAPHAEL L eo!!! Hang on!! But the Caravan is too fast, and eventually loses Raph. APHAEL NOOOOOOOO!!!! Raph gets weak and collapses to his knees on the roof. The sun begins to rise. He has to return to the sewer. CUT TO: INT. TURTLES LAIR - MORNING 83 83 April and Don are poring over books at the kitchen. Mikey paces behind them. Raph storms in, barrels past them all. S 73. 84 84 INT. TURTLES LAIR - TRAINING DOJO Raphael walks to Splinter, practicing himself in the dojo. Raph holds his Sais in one hand, his bolo chain in the other. Clenches both tight. SPLINTER Raphael? What is the matter? RAPHAEL (RANTING) I was out, and did... something... something happened and I- ARRRGH!!! Raphael picks up a HEAVY WEIGHT and hurls is across the dojo. Splinter is unfazed, but he won't take any more. SPLINTER Raphael! Kneel. Raph stops. Breathing heavy. Falls in line - walking to Splinter and dropping to his knees in front of his father. RAPHAEL I did something... I did something really stupid, Master Splinter. SPLINTER Go on... RAPHAEL (SEMI-RAMBLING) I know why you chose him now. I know that there's a reason why he's the better son and I'm not. (THINKS) And I think I made things worse tonight. (beat - calming down) A WHOLE lot worse... I know you must be ashamed of me, father. Raphael is lost in his guilt. Splinter kneels in front of Raph. SPLINTER Raphael. You always bear the world's problems on your shoulders. It is an admirable quality when you are a protector of others... plinter gently lays a hand on Raph's shoulder. 74. SPLINTER But you must realize that while, at times, you may not be my favorite student, it does not mean that you are my least favorite son. Raphael looks up. Having not thought of it that way. SPLINTER You are strong, passionate and loyal to a fault. These are the merits of a great leader as well... but only when tempered with compassion and humility. RAPHAEL But Master Splinter, I messed up big tonight... I mean BIG. Splinter chews on this. SPLINTER Leonardo? R APHAEL (beat, ashamed) Yes. Splinter is grim. Nods. But he moves on. SPLINTER Well then, I believe your brothers may be in need of a leader. Raphael looks up. Finally, his shot. He holds his SAIS in one hand, and his BOLO CHAIN in the other. Ninja Turtle vs. Nightwatcher. He grips them both hard. He drops the chain. RAPHAEL Thank you... father. Mikey bursts in the door, frantic. MICHAELANGELO Dudes. I think you're gonna want to check this out. (BEAT) Where's Leo? Raph and Splinter share a look. Raph has to tell the others. INT. TURTLES LAIR - MOMENTS LATER 85 85 April and Donnie sift through their charts and calculations. 75. DONATELLO So, the first time that this portal was opened, the Stars of Kikin aligned... (sketches on high tech SCREEN) ...and that's why it occurred in that specific South American region. (more doodles) Now if we take into account the continual rotation of the Earth since then, as well as the gradual celestial shift that's happened and been recorded over... well, over the course of that mountain of books over there... we now know our new location. Donnie's drawn a NEW LINE from the alignment of the stars. April elbows Casey to wake him up. APRIL Precisely at 40.748 degrees latitude and -073.985 Degrees longitude. ON OTHERS - HUH?! Mikey air - calculates math in bg. DONATELLO New York City. APRIL Winters Tower. DONATELLO And the alignment is due to occur in precisely- (checks watch) - well... tonight. It sits in the room. Heavy. MICHAELANGELO But without Leo... what do we do? No one answers. Splinter looks to Raph. Raph steps up. RAPHAEL We rescue our brother... and save New York City. Splinter stands to his side. SPLINTER Together. CUT TO: - 8 76. 86 86 EXT. WINTERS TOWER - SUNSET DARK STORM CLOUDS gather over Winters Tower. A horrible electrical storm is brewing. INT. WINTERS LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 7 87 The lobby has changed. Shots establishing the jury-rigged nature of Winters Tower. - The large Aztec-like calendar on the lobby floor suddenly SPLITS and slides open, creating a 100 foot circle in the middle. Underneath is the TOWERS CELL BASEMENT. - The disk in the basement is suddenly RAISED up to the lobby area, replacing the slick marble design with an antiquated stone version. Only now, THIRTEEN CREATURE CELLS surround the disk. Very ceremonial. - Finally, Winters' office elevator LOWERS from high above. He's in the actual ceremonial gear worn by Yaotl years ago. He holds the helmet to his side. Very serious. He looks over his now-ceremonial lobby... satisfied. PUSH IN on one cell, as Leo sits hunched over, unconscious and helpless... SMASH CUT TO: INT. APRIL AND CASEY'S LOFT APARTMENT 88 88 Quick shots of April and Casey gearing up. Casey with his off- the-shelf sporting gear. April with sleek-looking Japanese combat gear and weaponry. They both emerge from their rooms, dressed to kill. Casey's jaw drops as we scope out April. CASEY Wow. APRIL (models it) Picked it up on my last trip to Japan. You... like it? CASEY Oh... oh yeah. They share the moment. Seeing what they forgot about each other when they first met. It's enough for them to smile. APRIL Where's your mask? M E 77. CASEY (faking confusion) Mask? What mask? April runs into the other room and comes back with her hands behind her back. She takes out a NEW MASK for Casey - cool, crisp and a badass paintjob. CASEY No way... APRIL I was saving it for our anniversary. CASEY (BEAT) Thanks. Almost awkward as Casey leans forward and is about to kiss her... Then a MUSICAL TUNE (first bar of the TMNT series) plays on a car horn outside, interrupting them again. APRIL That's our ride. 89 89 INT. VEHICLE - NIGHT CAM PULLS BACK from the back seat. Everyone is in "the zone". Splinter and Don sit in the back seat. Pulling further toward the front, we see April and Casey. nd on Raph in passenger seat and Mikey driving. RAPHAEL You know I ain't much on speeches. (BEAT) But we can do this. Leo, or no Leo. (looks around) Not because of our individual strengths... but because of how we function as a team. ICHAELANGELO I love you man. RAPHAEL Don't push it. (to April) April, this is going to be dangerous. You sure you're in? APRIL I feel responsible, fellas. I found the Generals for him. O 78. CAM CONTINUES TO PULL OUT - as the familiar jingle of Cowabunga Carl fades in and we see the Cowabunga Carl Party R Van in full view. APHAEL (O.S.) Nice an' incognito there, Mikey. MICHAELANGELO (O.S.) Well, I didn't see you offering any suggestions... besides- (imitates Splinter) - a true ninja can hide in plain sight, my son! SPLINTER (O.S.) I heard that! Van takes off as the CAMERA SLOWS in the street, watching it drive away. NYC civilians point to the sky, worried. PUSH IN on a TV/STEREO STORE WINDOW - Simon's Electronics. ON TV - Broadcasting a news report. Weather alert. Black clouds brew over head. BUBBLY WEATHER REPORTER (O.C.) Scientists are calling it the fiercest storm of the new millennium, with Dopler Radar readings coming in off the charts. Authorities are imposing a curfew to avoid possible civilian harm. Stay tuned for more in minutes. FURTHER DOWN THE STREET - We see Winters Tower and the darkest clouds of all beginning to collect overhead. INT. WINTERS LOBBY 90 90 Winters stands with Four Generals in his office, overseeing the portal. Ready. INT. WINTERS GARDEN - MOMENTS LATER 91 91 Karai walks down the center path of the garden, flanked by a DOZEN FOOT NINJA. She motions for them to take position. KARAI As ordered - no one gets in. No one interferes. No one bears witness. SUDDENLY - the security alarm from the front gate BUZZES. Karai waits a beat. It buzzes again. She walks to the SECURITY PANEL by the front gate. N MONITOR - We see CASEY standing there, obscured by a LARGE WOODEN CRATE IN FRONT OF HIM. Karai coldly opens the gate. C 79. KARAI May I help you? CASEY Yeah, hey, I was supposed to drop this off for Mr. Winters. If I don't get this done, I am majorly in the doghouse. You know what I'm sayin', right? Right? The two stare at each other as the CAM ANGLES BEHIND KARAI - she's holding a KATANA SWORD behind her back! AM DOLLIES OVERHEAD as we see that Casey is packing MAJOR sports gear "heat" on his end too. Both don't let on. KARAI Please come in, then. CASEY Really!? (beat - gets composed) I mean, "but of course". Casey wheels the crate inside. The gate closes only KARAI HAS NOW DISAPPEARED! Casey opens the front hatch, revealing Don, Raph, Mikey, April and Splinter. R APHAEL Let's NEVER do this again. (waves hand in front of nose, glares at MIkey) And who did that?! MICHAELANGELO What?! Why does everyone always call ME out? A long beat. Then... SPLINTER I apologize my sons. Everyone looks at sheepish Splinter. A beat. Suddenly- WIDER - The empty garden begins to move. CREEPY, as DOZENS OF FOOT NINJA begin to rise out of the shadows and slink toward our heroes, surrounding them. KARAI makes a dramatic entrance, landing in front of April and Casey. Tense beat. CASEY I suppose this is where we all take out our sharp and pointy things? KARAI You suppose correctly. W 80. ON HEROES - As they all draw their weapons. HIGH ANGLE as the Foot all draw theirs. Stand-off. Raph twirls his sais. RAPHAEL I am SO gonna enjoy this... 92 92 INT. WINTERS TOWER Winters walks along all the cells - a final check. He examines one of the cells. PUSH IN - it's LEO. He's slowly waking up - groggy. Muttering incoherently. He PASSES OUT AGAIN. 93 93 EXT. WINTERS PARK We finally get to see how much of an ass-kicker Master Splinter is. Same with April, who squares off against Karai. They fight hard. April ends up cornered, about to be skewered by her blade when... -CLUNK! She wobbles and then passes out. When Karai falls out of frame, she reveals CASEY JONES a hundred yards behind her holding his HOCKEY STICK! April frowns. APRIL I had the situation under control. CASEY (SMIRKS) You're welcome. Mikey fights the most like Jackie Chan - comical maneuvers backed by solid-hitting blows. Don uses his bo-staff in 1001 different ways, both offensively and defensively. Casey is enjoying the hell out of it. High flying, adrenaline rush. He even catches April checking him out, and vice versa. April suddenly spots an opening to the front doors! APRIL Guys! Front door is open. Now! They all charge the front door! INT. WINTERS TOWER 94 94 Winters is happy. He looks up to the heavens. Checks a time piece. Winters begins chanting ANCIENT MAGICK/SPELLS. Looks up through the opening in the middle of the building. INTERS (THEN) YESSSSSSS!!!! 81. The cam PULLS UP through the building. Up over NYC. Through the clouds... and into space until we pass all ALIGNED STARS. S PACE - The final star drifts into position. A LIGHT BURST EFFECT travels down each star, headed to Earth. BACK IN LOBBY - The light burst flies into the lobby and hits the circle in the middle of all the monsters' cells. ON CIRCLE - The pieces suddenly start to move around. Almost like a sliding puzzle. Then they start to randomly SINK further into the ground. Light pours out of them, until all of them give way to create THE PORTAL. POV OFFICE ABOVE - Each of the Thirteen Cells LIGHT UP to acknowledge their contents. 1... 2... 3... WINTERS Finally... finally! ON GENERALS - they're still. Emotionless. The light sequence gets to Leo's cell... it doesn't light up. WINTERS What? His mind reels. Looks down at the cells. Nothing. Then it hits him like a ton of bricks. He turns to the Generals... WINTERS What did you do?! 95 95 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Our six Heroes all tear into the lobby. They turn back, an army of ninjas closing in on them! MICHAELANGELO What do we do, dudes?! DONATELLO I'm working on it. Raph grips his sais with renewed strength. Casey looks around, putting things together mentally. Tension builds! RAPHAEL We get ready for round two. ON CASEY IN CORNER - He reaches into his back, takes out a hockey stick and - SMASH!!! - kills a LOBBY VASE. Suddenly, sirens blare as the OUTSIDE BUILDING SECURITY SHUTTERS SLAM DOWN just like in Act I! The Ninjas are locked out! 82. RAPHAEL Yeah! Everyone high fives Casey. Except April. She smiles. APRIL Nice work, Jones. CASEY I have my moments... DONATELLO Look! OFF DON'S LOOK - the mayhem builds at the other end of the vast lobby. The cells are glowing. The portal worsens. DONATELLO And that would be the swirling vortex to another world, I assume. (BEAT) Cool. They all run over. Mikey runs to a cell. MICHAELANGELO Leo! Is that you? RAARRGH! - A claw swoops out. He dodges out of the way. MICHAELANGELO I guess that would be a "no". ON RAPH - He finds Leo! DONATELLO Out of the way, please. D on places a small EXPLOSIVE on a key lock. Raph pulls Leo out. LIFELESS. RAPHAEL Hey buddy! Come on, man. Leo, please wake up! Raph holds Leo in his lap on the floor. Looks like Leo is DEAD. Raph's head falls low, as... LEONARDO (O.S.) Wh-wh-what took you s-so long? WIDER - Leo is alive. Coughs and slowly gets his strength back. Stands up. He and Raph look at each other. Leo can only imagine what Raph's been through to rescue him. A beat. RAPHAEL Listen, I - I'm sorry. 9 . 83. Leo forgives him. Moment is suddenly broken by an OS SMASH!!!! ANGLE UP - As WINTERS is thrown out the window of his elevator office! He heads straight for a sword wielding BRONZE STATUE... particularly the sword part. Closer... closer... and... ..just misses it. WHUMP! He crashes onto the floor. MOTIONLESS. ON GROUP - They just stare at him. Back up to the office, nearly 150 feet above them. ON BALCONY ABOVE - Aguila looks down. Snarls. 6 96 INT. WINTERS LOBBY Winters' body still lays on the floor. This is bad. CASEY Is he... is he dead? Mikey takes out a hockey stick from Casey's bag and pokes Winters' limp body. Nothing. MICHAELANGELO Yup. He's WAY dead, dude. WINTERS GASPS FOR AIR! Startles everyone in the room. ON EVERYONE - Their faces all drop as Winters stands up in his mini-crater, brushes himself off and is perfectly fine! Winters' mind is racing a mile a minute. Doesn't even notice those around him. WINTERS (GROANS) Raph can't take it any more. He draws his sais and thrusts them at Winters. THAT gets his attention. Winters looks up in awe at seeing the mutated freaks in front of him. WINTERS Fascinating... SPLINTER Mister Winters. We mean you no harm. RAPHAEL No harm?! Whatever! I'm about to give you piercin's in places you never imagined if you don't tell us what's going on. O O 84. WINTERS We were so close... so close. Winters collapses on the floor. Head in hands. WINTERS This was our chance. We could have changed it all. APRIL We know everything Max. We know you're trying to recreate what Yaotl started 3000 years ago. N WINTERS - He looks up. Sees April. Exhausted, as we- WIPE TO: EXT. FLASHBACK BATTLEFIELD - NIGHT 97 97 The same red-tinted battlefield we left in Winter's flashback. Monsters are leaping through | top | How many times the word 'top' appears in the text? | 3 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | ext | How many times the word 'ext' appears in the text? | 1 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | smiles | How many times the word 'smiles' appears in the text? | 3 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | exits | How many times the word 'exits' appears in the text? | 1 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | glances | How many times the word 'glances' appears in the text? | 1 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | sender | How many times the word 'sender' appears in the text? | 1 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | informed | How many times the word 'informed' appears in the text? | 0 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | instincts | How many times the word 'instincts' appears in the text? | 1 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | orders | How many times the word 'orders' appears in the text? | 0 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | them | How many times the word 'them' appears in the text? | 3 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | goodbye | How many times the word 'goodbye' appears in the text? | 1 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | taps | How many times the word 'taps' appears in the text? | 0 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | pierce | How many times the word 'pierce' appears in the text? | 1 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | noises | How many times the word 'noises' appears in the text? | 0 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | decades | How many times the word 'decades' appears in the text? | 1 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | repulses | How many times the word 'repulses' appears in the text? | 0 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | considerably | How many times the word 'considerably' appears in the text? | 0 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | discovers | How many times the word 'discovers' appears in the text? | 3 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | leak | How many times the word 'leak' appears in the text? | 2 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | runs | How many times the word 'runs' appears in the text? | 1 |
Amy seems distrustful of Ben, scared of how close he is to the edge. We can see the anger in his eyes... AMY Look at yourself. You're still carrying around so much of that anger. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror- and of the desperate violence in his eyes... Ben steps back. BEN (trying to calm down) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you... Things could be so different between us. AMY Yes I know, but it's up to you Ben. (CONTINUED) 22. 42 CONTINUED: 42 BEN Yeah... Anyway, I wasn't planning on staying. My shift starts in an hour. I'll just kiss them goodbye and then I'm leaving. Ben exits the room. Amy is left alone- Through the window, she watches Ben exit the house and get into his car. When she turns away, she discovers Michael and Daisy standing outside the bathtub dripping wet in their towels. She smiles, and quickly comes to dry them. MICHAEL Mom? AMY Yes, honey. MICHAEL Is Daddy coming back to live with us? She smiles gently. AMY I don't know sweetheart. I don't know. 43 INT. DAY - BASEMENT CORRIDOR MAYFLOWER 43 The beams from the flashlight are reflected in the few inches of water flooding the basement corridor. Since yesterday, the water level has continued to rise. The outline of Ben and Lorenzo's silhouettes appear in the staircase leading to the ground floor- BEN I haven't managed to find the source of the leak. My guess is it doesn't come from the store... It must be a municipal pipe that blew with the cold... LORENZO I'll call the company tomorrow morning and have them come take a look at it. 44 INT. NIGHT- SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 44 On the gas stove, a kettle is whistling. (CONTINUED) 23. 44 CONTINUED: 44 Ben rummages through the cupboards and the drawers. He finds some instant coffee next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He briefly hesitates between the coffee and the whisky... He grabs a cup and pours the boiling water into the instant coffee. In the reflection of the clock, we see Ben watching TV. It is past midnight. Ben gets up and grabs his flashlight- It's time for his rounds. 45 INT. NIGHT - MAYFLOWER CENTRAL HALL 45 Through the shattered panes of the central dome, we see Ben walking through the store. Since the mysterious occurrences of the night before, his attitude has changed. He avoids, as much as possible, looking into the mirrors. He is on guard, fearing another supernatural manifestation. The shadows, the mannequins, and the shapes in the mirrors are all disturbing and unsettling. Even what remains of the sculptures on the top of the marble columns seems alive in the dark. As he crosses the entrance hall, a glint of light catches his attention. Despite himself, he stops and gazes into the mirror- AT THE FAR END OF THE STORE, ONE OF THE DEPARTMENTS IS IN FULL SWING AND BATHED IN DAYLIGHT! EVERYTHING IS SPOTLESS, AS IF THE FIRE HAD NEVER TAKEN PLACE. CUSTOMERS COME AND GO AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED. How is this possible? Ben turns around to see the same spot in the real world- ONLY IT'S IN RUINS... Ben glances back at the reflection in the mirror- The vision of the past prevails. Unable to ignore it, Ben decides to check it out for himself... Ben wanders off towards the far end of the store, a landscape of dust and desolation. HIS REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR, ON THE OTHER HAND, HEADS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE "FLASHBACK"- We follow him in the mirror- Ben has left the night behind and enters the "daytime" department. Everything is in perfect order and unspoiled. Ben continues his journey into the past. (CONTINUED) 24. 45 CONTINUED: 45 The customers jostle one another while shopping during a big sale. Children run wild in the aisles. Women fight over articles of clothing. Ben stops dead in his tracks when he notices, around his shoes, a transparent liquid spilling out on the floor- He bends down and dips his fingertips into the liquid- GASOLINE. Gallons of flowing gasoline gradually spreading over the floor of the department store. Ben turns around and sees, under the shelving, A HAND LIGHTING A ZIPPO- The lighter falls to the floor in slow motion. The liquid bursts into flame instantly. THE CHEERFUL VISION OF A DAY IN THE DEPARTMENT STORE QUICKLY TURNS INTO A NIGHTMARE- EVERYTHING IS ENGULFED IN FLAMES. THE CLOTHES, THE MANNEQUINS AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE CROWD! THE AGONIZING SHRIEKS OF PAIN AND PANIC ARE DEAFENING. Frightened, Ben steps back- The flames spread quickly to the escalators where the crowd has rushed to escape death- HORRIFIC VISIONS OF PEOPLE BURNING ALIVE... INCINERATED FLESH. FACES DISTORTED BY THE PAIN, SKIN MELTING TO THE BONE. In the midst of the flames through the heat waves, Ben spots the face of the firestarter- IS IT HIS OWN? Ben has no time to react. In a split second, his uniform catches fire. Panicked, he attempts to put out the fire with his hands- CUT TO: IN THE DARK NIGHT SURROUNDED BY THE CHARRED RUINS, BEN QUIVERS DELIRIOUSLY AS HE TRIES TO SMOTHER THE INVISIBLE FLAMES. He comes back to reality- Ben catches his breath, trying to come to his senses. What's happening to him? What he just experienced certainly felt real. During his panic, the flashlight rolled under one of the counters. Ben bends down to pick it up. The beam illuminates the ground and throws light on an object a bit further away- A LEATHER WALLET. (CONTINUED) 25. 45 CONTINUED: (2) 45 He stretches out his hand to pick it up. The leather is worn-out but the absence of dust establishes that the wallet has landed there recently. Ben examines the object with the experienced touch of a professional accustomed to handling evidence. Between the collection of cards and scraps of paper, Ben finds a driver's license belonging to- GARY LEWIS, 55 years old, a sturdily built African American man. WE RECOGNIZE THE MAN RUNNING IN THE SUBWAY, AT THE BEGINNING. The name rings a bell for him- 46 INT. NIGHT - SECURITY GUARD TRAILER 46 Ben returns to the trailer and rummages through the closet- He stops when he finds another uniform. A name is embroidered on the shoulder- AGAIN THE SAME NAME: GARY LEWIS, BEN'S PREDECESSOR, THE MISSING NIGHT WATCHMAN. The wallet rests on the table and piques Ben's curiosity. He cannot hold back his police instincts. He finally empties out the contents on the table- A Blockbuster card, restaurant receipts, a driver's license, Phillips' business card from Mayflower, cash and a sheet of paper folded in four- Ben unfolds the sheet of paper and sees, written in ink- ESSEKER Ben chews over these seven letters. Is it somebody's name? A place? A code? Initials? He folds it up again and puts everything back, neatly, in the wallet that he stows away in one of the drawers. FADE TO BLACK 48 OMITTED 48 48A EXT. DAY - QUEENS STREET 48A A busy street under the subway overpass. We see a neighborhood bar on the corner- 49 INT. DAY -QUEENS BAR 49 At this time of day the place is deserted. A plasma screen shows a baseball game. A drunk guy is half asleep at the corner table. (CONTINUED) 26. 49 CONTINUED: 49 Sitting at the bar, Ben is nervous, tense... He removes the steeped tea bag from his cup. Ben stares at himself in the mirror, behind the bottle display shelves. It is not his mirror image that he is observing. His gaze seems to pierce through his own reflection, to dive beyond, into the very depths of his soul. Angela interrupts, across from him, behind the bar. She works here. ANGELA (intrigued) What are you looking at? BEN Nothing special... ANGELA (playfully) Come on, you've been looking at yourself for more than half an hour. You never used to be so vain. BEN You can't avoid them. They're everywhere... ANGELA What are you talking about? BEN The mirrors... In the department store, at every street corner, in the windows of every fucking building in this city. I feel like I'm not the one looking into the mirrors, but rather they're looking at me. Angela smiles, not sure if he is serious- ANGELA You need a drink. BEN No, I'm serious. ANGELA Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid? Ben observes the palm of his hand. ANGELA (CONT'D) Mirrors are just glass and silver, Ben... (CONTINUED) 27. 49 CONTINUED: (2) 49 Angela smiles at him and continues to polish the drinking glasses. 50 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 50 In the darkness, a rat glides peacefully on the water surface. In the basement, the water level continues to rise. With a flashlight in hand, and his feet submerged in the water, Ben moves deeper into the tunnel. He is searching for the source of the leak. The beam of light sweeps across the walls and the piping. Ben crosses an intersection. In the corner, on the tiled wall, he barely discerns an old inscription ingrained with decades of dust and dirt. He sinks his hand into the water and wipes it off, revealing an arrow pointing to, ST JOHN'S DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHIATRY. He continues his exploration of the subterranean passageways. Suddenly, he notices a darker area on the wall. He comes closer and discovers a brownish damp-spot, covered with mold. The humidity has pearled into droplets. He has found the source of the leak. His hand brushes the wall, causing it to crumble instantly. Ben digs into the plaster as if it were butter, bringing a cracked water pipe to light. The leakage has damaged the wall in which the tubing was embedded. Ben hears the echoing sound of streaming water, as if there were another room on the other side of the wall. He pushes against the saturated wall, and pierces through it with his arm. He removes his arm. For a moment, he observes the gaping black hole that he has just left behind. Ben peeks through the hole with his flashlight, but he cannot make out what is on the other side. He makes the hole bigger, until the passage is large enough for him to crawl through- ON THE OTHER SIDE, HE DISCOVERS A LARGE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE OF IT ANOTHER ROOM- AN OCTAGONAL ONE WHOSE EACH AND EVERY WALL, INCLUDING THE CEILING, IS MADE OF GIGANTIC TWO WAYS MIRRORS. One of the mirrors is opened, ajar- It's a door. He enters. (CONTINUED) 28. 50 CONTINUED: 50 His image is reflected in all directions and from infinite angles. Ben moves towards the center of the room- ALTHOUGH THE ROOM SEEMED EMPTY BEFORE, SOMEBODY IS NOW STANDING IN THE CORNER. It's a well-built man. He too is wearing the blue security guard's uniform. From where he stands, Ben can only see the back of the man's head. As he moves in closer, he can make out the name embroidered on the man's shoulder- IT'S GARY LEWIS, THE FORMER NIGHT WATCHMAN! BEN Gary? The silhouette remains still. BEN (CONT'D) Gary? Ben comes a bit closer. His gaze freezes when he realizes that Gary is not standing in front of the mirror with his face pressed against it, but- HE IS BEHIND THE MIRROR, INSIDE! Ben steps back, terrified. He doesn't know how to interpret this new phenomenon. Ben gathers his courage and returns in front of the mirror- Knock, knock, knock... He hits the mirror with his fist, as if it were merely a glass window behind which Gary Lewis was standing, on the other side- No reaction. Ben strikes the mirror harder. Knock, knock, knock... The former night watchman turns around slowly towards Ben, revealing his face little by little... CUT TO: 51 INT. DAY - QUEENS APARTMENT 51 Knock, knock, knock... (CONTINUED) 29. 51 CONTINUED: 51 In his bed, Ben wakes up with a jolt- THE ENCOUNTER WITH GARY WAS A DREAM. Knock, knock, knock... Somebody is knocking at his door. Ben gets up from the couch- BEN Coming... Ben opens the door to a UPS deliveryman holding out a package- DELIVERYMAN Mr. Carson? (Ben nods) Would you mind signing here, please? Ben signs for it and takes the package. DELIVERYMAN (CONT'D) You have a nice day, Sir... Ben shuts the door and examines the UPS box. He's not used to getting many deliveries. He flips it over to see who it is from- THE SENDER IS GARY LEWIS... Ben grabs a kitchen knife to open the parcel. He tears away the cardboard and empties out the contents onto the living room table- A DOZEN NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS LAND, ALL MIXED UP, ON THE TABLE. More or less recent, all the articles relate to the department store and the fire that burned it down... Gary has meticulously cut them out and sent them to Ben. But why? 52 EXT. DAY - MAYFLOWER 52 Ben's car parks in front of the fence that encloses the entrance to Mayflower. He runs into Lorenzo who exits the trailer, ready to go home from work- LORENZO I've just been through the craziest day here... No kidding! Your ex- colleagues came to pay us a visit... BEN What happened? (CONTINUED) 30. 52 CONTINUED: 52 LORENZO You know Gary, the guy who was working here before you, the cops found him dead in a subway station in Harlem. I never liked him too much, but poor guy, he didn't deserve to go like that... BEN Did they mention the cause of death? LORENZO No... they wouldn't tell me. Lorenzo hands him over the keys. LORENZO (CONT'D) Well, Ben? I better get going, Mrs. Sapelli is waiting for me at home. Have a good night at work, Ben. Oh, and by the way, about that leak, they're sending someone over to work at it the beginning of next week. BEN Have a good night, Lorenzo. Ben remains standing on the landing of the trailer for a moment, his gaze fixed at the department store- THE WALLET, THE DREAM, AND NOW, ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, THE NEWS OF GARY'S DEATH... ALL THESE STRANGE COINCIDENCES AROUND HIS PREDECESSOR HAVE AWOKEN HIS CURIOSITY AND DOUBT. BEN WANTS TO KNOW... 53 INT. DAY-NIGHT - MAYFLOWER ENTRANCE HALL 53 WIDE SHOT OF MAYFLOWER FIRST FLOOR- IN FAST MOTION- FROM THE FINAL HOUR OF DAY TO THE FALL OF NIGHT. IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRRORS, LIGHT GIVES WAY TO THE DARKNESS... The beam from the flashlight appears in the distance- Determined, Ben crosses the entrance hall in the direction of the basement door. He goes down- 54 INT. NIGHT - BASEMENT MAYFLOWER 54 Ben appears at the bottom of the stairs with his flashlight, and follows the subterranean passageway. (CONTINUED) 31. 54 CONTINUED: 54 Suddenly he is struck by a frightening feeling of d j -vu, HE IS IN THE VERY ACT OF RELIVING HIS NIGHTMARE IN DETAIL, STEP BY STEP- In the darkness, the rat glides peacefully on the water surface. He crosses an intersection and, once again- He recognizes the half-visible Psychiatric Department sign on the tiled wall. The beam from his flashlight sweeps across the walls and the piping, bringing to light, in the distance- THE BROWNISH DAMP-SPOT. BEN (to himself) Damn... What is happening to me? The moisture has pearled into droplets. Slowly, his hand comes closer. The wall crumbles at the slightest touch... Pushed by curiosity, Ben begins to dig a hole in the plaster, just as he had done in his nightmare... He hears the echoing sound of streaming water, coming from the other side of the wall. It confirms the existence of a hidden room. Ben begins to dig frenetically in the saturated wall, creating a large enough opening to access the other side- He inspects the interior with his flashlight, revealing- THE BRICK ROOM AND IN THE MIDDLE THE OCTAGONAL ROOM, SURROUNDED BY THE MIRRORING WALLS. He enters. His image is reflected in all directions and multiplied into infinity. His dream was foreboding. Everything is perfectly identical to the nightmare, with the exception of Gary Lewis- The former watchman is not there but... ALL OF A SUDDEN, BEHIND HIM, ONE OF BEN'S DUPLICATES IN THE INFINITE REFLECTION TURNS AROUND TO OBSERVE HIM WITH AN ICE COLD GLARE... Sensing something wrong, Ben turns around. In the silence he faces his infinite reflections, all of them identical- OR ALMOST... Taking a closer look Ben notices one of the duplicates' faces bearing an expression slightly different from the others'. A SUBTLE GRIN. (CONTINUED) 32. 54 CONTINUED: (2) 54 Knowing that it has been noticed by Ben, the "rebel duplicate" turns his face towards Ben, eyeing him with an evil gaze- We can hardly recognize Ben's image. The duplicate takes a step forward from the line of the other reflections and slowly walks towards Ben. Instinctively, Ben closes his eyes in an attempt to make the vision disappear. When he opens up his eyes again- HIS EVIL DOUBLE RUSHES TOWARDS HIM- Ben steps back terrified. CUT TO: 55 INT. DAY- CORONER'S OFFICE 55 Under the dazzling neon light of the NYPD coroner's premises, Amy is in full swing submitting her conclusions on a homicide to the police inspectors in charge of the investigation. She is interrupted by somebody who enters the room- There is someone for her at the reception, who insists on seeing her urgently. Amy excuses herself, removes her examination gloves, and exits the autopsy room. We follow her down the corridors as she passes men in police uniforms and doctors in white coats, in the endless comings and goings between the police station and the hospital. The atmosphere here is highly charged, reflecting the excessive activity of this particular department. There is no doubt- we are in New York City. 55A CORONER'S OFFICE LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 55A Amy comes to the reception desk. Ben, who clearly hasn't slept since the night before, is pacing back and forth. AMY Are you OK? What's happening? What are you doing here? BEN Amy, I need you to do me a favor... (CONTINUED) 33. 55A CONTINUED: 55A AMY Listen, I am in the middle of work, I don't really have time now. BEN I need your help... It won't take more than twenty minutes. Please, Amy? From his pocket, Ben takes out Gary's driver's license. He shows it to her- BEN (CONT'D) You picked up this guy yesterday morning... I need to take a look at him. It's very important. AMY Why do you want to see him? BEN He used to work at the Mayflower as a night watchman, before I replaced him. AMY Where did you get his driver's license? BEN I found his wallet in the department store. I need to find out how he died... AMY You are no longer a cop, Ben. This isn't your business anymore. BEN He sent me a package before he died, with newspaper articles about the Mayflower... I think he was trying to tell me something... I don't know him. I've never even met him, Amy... I need to figure this out. 56 INT. DAY - MORGUE 56 The refrigerated compartment bays, containing the corpses, are aligned along the basement walls. A young doctor escorts Ben and Amy down the corridors of the morgue. As he is walking, the doctor flips through the register, in search of a name. (CONTINUED) 34. 56 CONTINUED: 56 YOUNG DOCTOR Gary Lewis... Gary Lewis... Oh, there he is, 58B... He slashed his throat... AMY (to Ben) There you go... There's your answer. Your man committed suicide. BEN You know a lot of people who cut their own throats? YOUNG DOCTOR (interrupting) Well, all I know is that the cops are still investigating this one. That's why we still have the body. People can be very creative when it comes to suicide. I'm sure it's not the craziest thing you've seen. The young doctor stops in front of the number 58B. He opens the door to the refrigerated compartment bay and pulls out the tray carrying the corpse, wrapped in a white sheet- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) Gary Lewis... He lifts the sheet, revealing Gary Lewis' upper body- Gary's eyes are rolled upwards and his throat is wide open. His skin has become translucent, almost purple. His contorted corpse is frozen in a deadly expression of profound suffering... His flesh has started to decompose and putrefy. Ben stares at the body, in search of a hint, a clue, any useful information... Amy becomes impatient. AMY I've got to get back to work, Ben. They're waiting for me upstairs. BEN How... What did he slit his throat with? The doctor checks the report. YOUNG DOCTOR With... with a piece of mirror. Ben looks up. (CONTINUED) 35. 56 CONTINUED: (2) 56 YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...He must have smashed it into pieces to have something to slash it with... The doctor, has a smirk on his face- YOUNG DOCTOR (CONT'D) ...Seven years of bad luck. Suddenly, reflected in the stainless-steel door of the compartment bay, Ben sees- GARY'S FACE TURN SLOWLY TOWARDS HIM. GARY STARES DIRECTLY AT HIM. WITH A VOICE FROM BEYOND, HE DELIVERS A MESSAGE TO BEN- GARY ...ESSSEKERRR... Ben jumps out of his skin and backs away, terrified. Neither Amy nor the doctor saw anything, of course. They gaze at him with a puzzled look- AMY Are you OK, Ben? What's going on? Ben looks at the corpse and its reflection again- Gary is frozen in the same contorted position, as if nothing ever happened. BEN (coming to his senses) I need to see his files... AMY What? Ben raises his voice. BEN I NEED TO SEE HIS FILES! AMY Come on, Ben, what is it you're after? I am not supposed to show you any file... You're not even allowed to be here. I could get fired for this. The doctor senses that the conversation is taking on a more personal turn. YOUNG DOCTOR Well, I'll be off. Amy, you know where to find me if you need me. Amy is left alone with Ben. (CONTINUED) 36. 56 CONTINUED: (3) 56 AMY What is happening to you? What is all this supposed to mean? What is going on, Ben? BEN I won't leave until I see that file. CUT TO: 57 INT. DAY -AMY'S OFFICE 57 On the shelves, photographs of Michael and Daisy stand next to the medical records and legal-medicine textbooks. Sitting behind Amy's desk, Ben is studying Gary Lewis' file. He flips back and forth through the different documents, photographs, and police reports. Amy observes him, perplexed. We sense that she is concerned about Ben's strange behavior and over sensitivity. BEN Look at this picture... Come and see, Amy. He shows her a snapshot taken by the police. We see Gary soaked in his own blood, the throat slit open. The picture is real, crude. He lies outstretched, facing a mirror shattered into several pointy pieces, like a spider web. In his hand, Gary still holds the piece of glass that he used to cut himself. BEN (CONT'D) Look... AMY What!? Ben points to the reflection in the mirror- BEN Look at the piece of mirror in his hand. In the reflection of the mirror it's covered in blood, and look- in reality, it's clean. Not a drop of blood... AMY So what? BEN Don't you find it strange that this mirror doesn't reflect an exact image of reality? (CONTINUED) 37. 57 CONTINUED: 57 AMY I can't see the difference. It must be an effect of the angle from which the photograph was taken. What is it you are you trying to prove? BEN What if the mirrors were showing us something different? AMY What? For Christ's sake, listen to yourself, Ben! What are you talking about? BEN What if the mirrors were reflecting something that goes beyond reality? AMY (irritated) OK... This is way over my head. I don't have time for your barfly theories. Ben realizes that he will not succeed in convincing her. Not today. BEN Thanks for your help... He's on his way out, when she holds him back- AMY You should go home and get some rest. This guy probably just killed himself because he couldn't live with himself anymore. It happens to thousands of people, you know... CUT TO: 58 INT. DAY - APARTMENT QUEENS - BATHROOM 58 The steam has fogged up the mirror of the medicine cabinet. Ben grabs a towel and steps out of the shower. He watches his blurry reflection. With his finger, on the surface of the fogged mirror, he writes- ESSEKER He contemplates the dripping letters for a long moment, trying to interpret their meaning. (CONTINUED) 38. 58 CONTINUED: 58 In the end, he wipes off the mirror with his hand, erasing the word. Angela is standing behind him in the door opening- ANGELA I'm off... Amy called me today, she's worried about you. What's happening, Ben? BEN Please, not you... ANGELA I'm your sister, you can talk to me. Is it your new job? That place, the Mayflower, has bad vibes. It's getting under your skin. Just think about what I told you... BEN I made a deal, Angie... I can't just walk out on them like that. I need this job, I need the money. I'm not going to sleep on your couch for the rest of my life! ANGELA You won't have any trouble finding another one. A daytime job, a regular job... While she's talking, we see the scene from another point of view- from inside the mirror- As if SOMEONE ELSE WAS LISTENING TO THEM. Angela leaves the bathroom. Ben brushes his teeth. He leans over to rinse his mouth, and when he straightens up- IT IS NOT HIM IN THE REFLECTION OF THE MIRROR, BUT GARY LEWIS WHO SLASHES HIS THROAT FROM END TO END WITH A SHARP PIECE OF MIRROR- Ben steps back and loses his balance, knocking down a shelf. Angela rushes into the bathroom- ANGELA (CONT'D) What happened Ben? Are you all right? He refuses her help. BEN LEAVE ME ALONE... Ben gets to his feet and looks into the mirror. His reflection is back. Everything looks normal but- (CONTINUED) 39. 58 CONTINUED: (2) 58 WHEN HE TURNS TO EXIT THE BATHROOM, HIS REFLECTION STAYS STILL, WATCHING HIM... CUT TO: 59 EXT. DAY- GARY LEWIS' BUILDING 59 The sun sets behind the Harlem skyline. Ben's Oldsmobile pulls over in the street- He has decided to pass by Gary Lewis' old house before his nightshift. He presses the doorbell next to Gary Lewis' name. An old lady answers- BEN Mrs. Lewis... Sorry to bother you... My name is Ben Carson. I worked with Gary, at Mayflower. Could I come up and talk to you for a few minutes? Silence. BEN (CONT'D) Mrs. Lewis ? MRS. LEWIS ...5th floor, apartment 3B... The entrance door of the building opens. CUT TO: 60 INT. DAY- MRS. LEWIS' APARTMENT 60 MRS. LEWIS is at least 80 years old, and almost blind behind her thick glasses. She lives alone in the small apartment that she used to share with her grandson. We sense that she is distraught by Gary's death. MRS. LEWIS ...My Gary hadn't slept at home for three weeks. At first I figured he had found himself a girlfriend, so I didn't worry much about it... It's terrible. The policeman told me that he was living in the streets... They found his body in the subway. Why? He had everything he needed here. Every morning I would have his breakfast ready when he'd come home from work. (CONTINUED) 40. 60 CONTINUED: 60 BEN Did he use any drugs? MRS. LEWIS Gary? Huh-huh! Never... He was a good boy. BEN Did you notice anything different, the days prior to his leaving the house, anything unusual in his behavior? MRS. LEWIS Oh yes, but that goes way back to when he started working at Mayflower. BEN What kind of changes? MRS. LEWIS He didn't care much for anything anymore. Before, we'd sit up and watch television together. But once he started that job as a night watchman, he'd spend all his time-off locked up in his room... BEN Sleeping? MRS. LEWIS He hardly slept anymore... He was way too busy! BEN Busy doing what? MRS. LEWIS That, I don't know... I never knew what he was up to... She reaches for a picture frame on the chest. MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) Look, in this picture he was twelve years old... BEN Is that you standing next to him? MRS. LEWIS Yes, back in the days... BEN Mrs. Lewis, I found a note that Gary wrote. (MORE) (CONTINUED) 41. 60 CONTINUED: (2) 60 BEN (CONT'D) A piece of paper, where he'd scribbled down the name, Esseker... Does that mean anything to you? MRS. LEWIS Esseker, is that what you're saying? The old lady dwells on it for a moment- MRS. LEWIS (CONT'D) No, that don't mean a thing to me... She sets down the picture frame. BEN May I see his room? MRS. LEWIS Yes, of course. Come, follow me, it's down the hallway, the door at the very end. Ben follows Mrs. Lewis to her grandson's room- It looks nothing like the room of a fifty-year-old man, but rather like that of an old teenager. From what we can see, Gary grew up in here, and each object recalls a stage in his life. Everything is clean and in its proper place, it is perfectly tidy. BEN Do you mind if I stay in here for a moment? Mrs. Lewis smiles at him. She too, likes to gather her thoughts in Gary's room. Ben scrutinizes the room in search of a clue, a hint that might help him on the Esseker lead. He opens the drawers and looks through the papers- Nothing is of any help | every | How many times the word 'every' appears in the text? | 2 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | contents | How many times the word 'contents' appears in the text? | 2 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | proved | How many times the word 'proved' appears in the text? | 0 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | breeches | How many times the word 'breeches' appears in the text? | 1 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | ever | How many times the word 'ever' appears in the text? | 3 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | engaged | How many times the word 'engaged' appears in the text? | 2 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | fact | How many times the word 'fact' appears in the text? | 3 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | blamed | How many times the word 'blamed' appears in the text? | 1 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | unsheltered | How many times the word 'unsheltered' appears in the text? | 0 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | thickest | How many times the word 'thickest' appears in the text? | 0 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | connections | How many times the word 'connections' appears in the text? | 1 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | dumpster | How many times the word 'dumpster' appears in the text? | 0 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | scamped | How many times the word 'scamped' appears in the text? | 0 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | caresses | How many times the word 'caresses' appears in the text? | 3 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | sum | How many times the word 'sum' appears in the text? | 3 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | since | How many times the word 'since' appears in the text? | 1 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | if | How many times the word 'if' appears in the text? | 3 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | dead | How many times the word 'dead' appears in the text? | 1 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | fortune | How many times the word 'fortune' appears in the text? | 2 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | ascertain | How many times the word 'ascertain' appears in the text? | 3 |
And even these short peeps were not frequently taken. He was working hard at law: fagging at it tooth and nail; arranging his whole life so as best to promote the ends of his ambition; feeling a delight in surpassing and mastering his fellows--those who started in the race at the same time. He read Ellinor's letters over and over again; nothing else beside law-books. He perceived the repressed love hidden away in subdued expressions in her communications, with an amused pleasure at the attempt at concealment. He was glad that her gaieties were not more gay; he was glad that she was not too much admired, although a little indignant at the want of taste on the part of the ---shire gentlemen. But if other admirers had come prominently forward, he would have had to take some more decided steps to assert his rights than he had hitherto done; for he had caused Ellinor to express a wish to her father that her engagement should not be too much talked about until nearer the time when it would be prudent for him to marry her. He thought that the knowledge of this, the only imprudently hasty step he ever meant to take in his life, might go against his character for wisdom, if the fact became known while he was as yet only a student. Mr. Wilkins wondered a little; but acceded, as he always did, to any of Ellinor's requests. Mr. Ness was a confidant, of course, and some of Lady Maria's connections heard of it, and forgot it again very soon; and, as it happened, no one else was sufficiently interested in Ellinor to care to ascertain the fact. All this time, Mr. Ralph Corbet maintained a very quietly decided attitude towards his own family. He was engaged to Miss Wilkins; and all he could say was, he felt sorry that they disapproved of it. He was not able to marry just at present, and before the time for his marriage arrived, he trusted that his family would take a more reasonable view of things, and be willing to receive her as his wife with all becoming respect or affection. This was the substance of what he repeated in different forms in reply to his father's angry letters. At length, his invariable determination made way with his father; the paternal thunderings were subdued to a distant rumbling in the sky; and presently the inquiry was broached as to how much fortune Miss Wilkins would have; how much down on her marriage; what were the eventual probabilities. Now this was a point which Mr. Ralph Corbet himself wished to be informed upon. He had not thought much about it in making the engagement; he had been too young, or too much in love. But an only child of a wealthy attorney ought to have something considerable; and an allowance so as to enable the young couple to start housekeeping in a moderately good part of town, would be an advantage to him in his profession. So he replied to his father, adroitly suggesting that a letter containing certain modifications of the inquiry which had been rather roughly put in Mr. Corbet's last, should be sent to him, in order that he might himself ascertain from Mr. Wilkins what were Ellinor's prospects as regarded fortune. The desired letter came; but not in such a form that he could pass it on to Mr. Wilkins; he preferred to make quotations, and even these quotations were a little altered and dressed before he sent them on. The gist of his letter to Mr. Wilkins was this. He stated that he hoped soon to be in a position to offer Ellinor a home; that he anticipated a steady progress in his profession, and consequently in his income; but that contingencies might arise, as his father suggested, which would deprive him of the power of earning a livelihood, perhaps when it might be more required than it would be at first; that it was true that, after his mother's death a small estate in Shropshire would come to him as second son, and of course Ellinor would receive the benefit of this property, secured to her legally as Mr. Wilkins thought best--that being a matter for after discussion--but that at present his father was anxious, as might be seen from the extract to ascertain whether Mr. Wilkins could secure him from the contingency of having his son's widow and possible children thrown upon his hands, by giving Ellinor a dowry; and if so, it was gently insinuated, what would be the amount of the same. When Mr. Wilkins received this letter it startled him out of a happy day- dream. He liked Ralph Corbet and the whole connection quite well enough to give his consent to an engagement; and sometimes even he was glad to think that Ellinor's future was assured, and that she would have a protector and friends after he was dead and gone. But he did not want them to assume their responsibilities so soon. He had not distinctly contemplated her marriage as an event likely to happen before his death. He could not understand how his own life would go on without her: or indeed why she and Ralph Corbet could not continue just as they were at present. He came down to breakfast with the letter in his hand. By Ellinor's blushes, as she glanced at the handwriting, he knew that she had heard from her lover by the same post; by her tender caresses--caresses given as if to make up for the pain which the prospect of her leaving him was sure to cause him--he was certain that she was aware of the contents of the letter. Yet he put it in his pocket, and tried to forget it. He did this not merely from his reluctance to complete any arrangements which might facilitate Ellinor's marriage. There was a further annoyance connected with the affair. His money matters had been for some time in an involved state; he had been living beyond his income, even reckoning that, as he always did, at the highest point which it ever touched. He kept no regular accounts, reasoning with himself--or, perhaps, I should rather say persuading himself--that there was no great occasion for regular accounts, when he had a steady income arising from his profession, as well as the interest of a good sum of money left him by his father; and when, living in his own house near a country town where provisions were cheap, his expenditure for his small family--only one child--could never amount to anything like his incomings from the above- mentioned sources. But servants and horses, and choice wines and rare fruit-trees, and a habit of purchasing any book or engraving that may take the fancy, irrespective of the price, run away with money, even though there be but one child. A year or two ago, Mr. Wilkins had been startled into a system of exaggerated retrenchment--retrenchment which only lasted about six weeks--by the sudden bursting of a bubble speculation in which he had invested a part of his father's savings. But as soon as the change in his habits, necessitated by his new economies, became irksome, he had comforted himself for his relapse into his former easy extravagance of living by remembering the fact that Ellinor was engaged to the son of a man of large property: and that though Ralph was only the second son, yet his mother's estate must come to him, as Mr. Ness had already mentioned, on first hearing of her engagement. Mr. Wilkins did not doubt that he could easily make Ellinor a fitting allowance, or even pay down a requisite dowry; but the doing so would involve an examination into the real state of his affairs, and this involved distasteful trouble. He had no idea how much more than mere temporary annoyance would arise out of the investigation. Until it was made, he decided in his own mind that he would not speak to Ellinor on the subject of her lover's letter. So for the next few days she was kept in suspense, seeing little of her father; and during the short times she was with him she was made aware that he was nervously anxious to keep the conversation engaged on general topics rather than on the one which she had at heart. As I have already said, Mr. Corbet had written to her by the same post as that on which he sent the letter to her father, telling her of its contents, and begging her (in all those sweet words which lovers know how to use) to urge her father to compliance for his sake--his, her lover's--who was pining and lonely in all the crowds of London, since her loved presence was not there. He did not care for money, save as a means of hastening their marriage; indeed, if there were only some income fixed, however small--some time for their marriage fixed, however distant--he could be patient. He did not want superfluity of wealth; his habits were simple, as she well knew; and money enough would be theirs in time, both from her share of contingencies, and the certainty of his finally possessing Bromley. Ellinor delayed replying to this letter until her father should have spoken to her on the subject. But as she perceived that he avoided all such conversation, the young girl's heart failed her. She began to blame herself for wishing to leave him, to reproach herself for being accessory to any step which made him shun being alone with her, and look distressed and full of care as he did now. It was the usual struggle between father and lover for the possession of love, instead of the natural and graceful resignation of the parent to the prescribed course of things; and, as usual, it was the poor girl who bore the suffering for no fault of her own: although she blamed herself for being the cause of the disturbance in the previous order of affairs. Ellinor had no one to speak to confidentially but her father and her lover, and when they were at issue she could talk openly to neither, so she brooded over Mr. Corbet's unanswered letter, and her father's silence, and became pale and dispirited. Once or twice she looked up suddenly, and caught her father's eye gazing upon her with a certain wistful anxiety; but the instant she saw this he pulled himself up, as it were, and would begin talking gaily about the small topics of the day. At length Mr. Corbet grew impatient at not hearing either from Mr. Wilkins or Ellinor, and wrote urgently to the former, making known to him a new proposal suggested to him by his father, which was, that a certain sum should be paid down by Mr. Wilkins to be applied, under the management of trustees, to the improvement of the Bromley estate, out of the profits of which, or other sources in the elder Mr. Corbet's hands, a heavy rate of interest should be paid on this advance, which would secure an income to the young couple immediately, and considerably increase the value of the estate upon which Ellinor's settlement was to be made. The terms offered for this laying down of ready money were so advantageous, that Mr. Wilkins was strongly tempted to accede to them at once; as Ellinor's pale cheek and want of appetite had only that very morning smote upon his conscience, and this immediate transfer of ready money was as a sacrifice, a soothing balm to his self-reproach, and laziness and dislike to immediate unpleasantness of action had its counterbalancing weakness in imprudence. Mr. Wilkins made some rough calculations on a piece of paper--deeds, and all such tests of accuracy, being down at the office; discovered that he could pay down the sum required; wrote a letter agreeing to the proposal, and before he sealed it called Ellinor into his study, and bade her read what he had been writing and tell him what she thought of it. He watched the colour come rushing into her white face, her lips quiver and tremble, and even before the letter was ended she was in his arms kissing him, and thanking him with blushing caresses rather than words. "There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia. One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this, little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to consider." "Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry." "Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an extravagant man." "But, papa, we don't want all this much." "Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well- portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?" Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man, the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress). Another said it was easy for the rich to be handsome; they had always plenty to eat, and could ride when they were tired of walking, and had no care for the morrow to keep them from sleeping at nights. And, in sad acquiescence with their contrasted lot, the men went on with their hedging and ditching in silence. And yet, if they had known--if the poor did know--the troubles and temptations of the rich; if those men had foreseen the lot darkening over the father, and including the daughter in its cloud; if Mr. Wilkins himself had even imagined such a future possible . . . Well, there was truth in the old heathen saying, "Let no man be envied till his death." Ellinor had no more rides with her father; no, not ever again; though they had stopped that afternoon at the summit of a breezy common, and looked at a ruined hall, not so very far off; and discussed whether they could reach it that day, and decided that it was too far away for anything but a hurried inspection, and that some day soon they would make the old place into the principal object of an excursion. But a rainy time came on, when no rides were possible; and whether it was the influence of the weather, or some other care or trouble that oppressed him, Mr. Wilkins seemed to lose all wish for much active exercise, and rather sought a stimulus to his spirits and circulation in wine. But of this Ellinor was innocently unaware. He seemed dull and weary, and sat long, drowsing and drinking after dinner. If the servants had not been so fond of him for much previous generosity and kindness, they would have complained now, and with reason, of his irritability, for all sorts of things seemed to annoy him. "You should get the master to take a ride with you, miss," said Dixon, one day as he was putting Ellinor on her horse. "He's not looking well, he's studying too much at the office." But when Ellinor named it to her father, he rather hastily replied that it was all very well for women to ride out whenever they liked--men had something else to do; and then, as he saw her look grave and puzzled, he softened down his abrupt saying by adding that Dunster had been making a fuss about his partner's non-attendance, and altogether taking a good deal upon himself in a very offensive way, so that he thought it better to go pretty regularly to the office, in order to show him who was master--senior partner, and head of the business, at any rate. Ellinor sighed a little over her disappointment at her father's preoccupation, and then forgot her own little regret in anger at Mr. Dunster, who had seemed all along to be a thorn in her father's side, and had latterly gained some power and authority over him, the exercise of which, Ellinor could not help thinking, was a very impertinent line of conduct from a junior partner, so lately only a paid clerk, to his superior. There was a sense of something wrong in the Ford Bank household for many weeks about this time. Mr. Wilkins was not like himself, and his cheerful ways and careless genial speeches were missed, even on the days when he was not irritable, and evidently uneasy with himself and all about him. The spring was late in coming, and cold rain and sleet made any kind of out-door exercise a trouble and discomfort rather than a bright natural event in the course of the day. All sound of winter gaieties, of assemblies and meets, and jovial dinners, had died away, and the summer pleasures were as yet unthought of. Still Ellinor had a secret perennial source of sunshine in her heart; whenever she thought of Ralph she could not feel much oppression from the present unspoken and indistinct gloom. He loved her; and oh, how she loved him! and perhaps this very next autumn--but that depended on his own success in his profession. After all, if it was not this autumn it would be the next; and with the letters that she received weekly, and the occasional visits that her lover ran down to Hamley to pay Mr. Ness, Ellinor felt as if she would almost prefer the delay of the time when she must leave her father's for a husband's roof. CHAPTER VI. At Easter--just when the heavens and earth were looking their dreariest, for Easter fell very early this year--Mr. Corbet came down. Mr. Wilkins was too busy to see much of him; they were together even less than usual, although not less friendly when they did meet. But to Ellinor the visit was one of unmixed happiness. Hitherto she had always had a little fear mingled up with her love of Mr. Corbet; but his manners were softened, his opinions less decided and abrupt, and his whole treatment of her showed such tenderness, that the young girl basked and revelled in it. One or two of their conversations had reference to their future married life in London; and she then perceived, although it did not jar against her, that her lover had not forgotten his ambition in his love. He tried to inoculate her with something of his own craving for success in life; but it was all in vain: she nestled to him, and told him she did not care to be the Lord Chancellor's wife--wigs and wool-sacks were not in her line; only if he wished it, she would wish it. The last two days of his stay the weather changed. Sudden heat burst forth, as it does occasionally for a few hours even in our chilly English spring. The grey-brown bushes and trees started almost with visible progress into the tender green shade which is the forerunner of the bursting leaves. The sky was of full cloudless blue. Mr. Wilkins was to come home pretty early from the office to ride out with his daughter and her lover; but, after waiting some time for him, it grew too late, and they were obliged to give up the project. Nothing would serve Ellinor, then, but that she must carry out a table and have tea in the garden, on the sunny side of the tree, among the roots of which she used to play when a child. Miss Monro objected a little to this caprice of Ellinor's, saying that it was too early for out-of-door meals; but Mr. Corbet overruled all objections, and helped her in her gay preparations. She always kept to the early hours of her childhood, although she, as then, regularly sat with her father at his late dinner; and this meal _al fresco_ was to be a reality to her and Miss Monro. There was a place arranged for her father, and she seized upon him as he was coming from the stable-yard, by the shrubbery path, to his study, and with merry playfulness made him a prisoner, accusing him of disappointing them of their ride, and drawing him more than half unwilling, to his chair by the table. But he was silent, and almost sad: his presence damped them all; they could hardly tell why, for he did not object to anything, though he seemed to enjoy nothing, and only to force a smile at Ellinor's occasional sallies. These became more and more rare as she perceived her father's depression. She watched him anxiously. He perceived it, and said--shivering in that strange unaccountable manner which is popularly explained by the expression that some one is passing over the earth that will one day form your grave--"Ellinor! this is not a day for out-of-door tea. I never felt so chilly a spot in my life. I cannot keep from shaking where I sit. I must leave this place, my dear, in spite of all your good tea." "Oh, papa! I am so sorry. But look how full that hot sun's rays come on this turf. I thought I had chosen such a capital spot!" But he got up and persisted in leaving the table, although he was evidently sorry to spoil the little party. He walked up and down the gravel walk, close by them, talking to them as he kept passing by and trying to cheer them up. "Are you warmer now, papa?" asked Ellinor. "Oh, yes! All right. It's only that place that seems so chilly and damp. I'm as warm as a toast now." The next morning Mr. Corbet left them. The unseasonably fine weather passed away too, and all things went back to their rather grey and dreary aspect; but Ellinor was too happy to feel this much, knowing what absent love existed for her alone, and from this knowledge unconsciously trusting in the sun behind the clouds. I have said that few or none in the immediate neighbourhood of Hamley, beside their own household and Mr. Ness, knew of Ellinor's engagement. At one of the rare dinner-parties to which she accompanied her father--it was at the old lady's house who chaperoned her to the assemblies--she was taken in to dinner by a young clergyman staying in the neighbourhood. He had just had a small living given to him in his own county, and he felt as if this was a great step in his life. He was good, innocent, and rather boyish in appearance. Ellinor was happy and at her ease, and chatted away to this Mr. Livingstone on many little points of interest which they found they had in common: church music, and the difficulty they had in getting people to sing in parts; Salisbury Cathedral, which they had both seen; styles of church architecture, Ruskin's works, and parish schools, in which Mr. Livingstone was somewhat shocked to find that Ellinor took no great interest. When the gentleman came in from the dining-room, it struck Ellinor, for the first time in her life, that her father had taken more wine than was good for him. Indeed, this had rather become a habit with him of late; but as he always tried to go quietly off to his own room when such had been the case, his daughter had never been aware of it before, and the perception of it now made her cheeks hot with shame. She thought that everyone must be as conscious of his altered manner and way of speaking as she was, and after a pause of sick silence, during which she could not say a word, she set to and talked to Mr. Livingstone about parish schools, anything, with redoubled vigour and apparent interest, in order to keep one or two of the company, at least, from noticing what was to her so painfully obvious. The effect of her behaviour was far more than she had intended. She kept Mr. Livingstone, it is true, from observing her father, but she also riveted his attention on herself. He had thought her very pretty and agreeable during dinner: but after dinner he considered her bewitching, irresistible. He dreamed of her all night, and wakened up the next morning to a calculation of how far his income would allow him to furnish his pretty new parsonage with that crowning blessing, a wife. For a day or two he did up little sums, and sighed, and thought of Ellinor, her face listening with admiring interest to his sermons, her arm passed into his as they went together round the parish; her sweet voice instructing classes in his schools--turn where he would, in his imagination Ellinor's presence rose up before him. The consequence was that he wrote an offer, which he found a far more perplexing piece of composition than a sermon; a real hearty expression of love, going on, over all obstacles, to a straightforward explanation of his present prospects and future hopes, and winding up with the information that on the succeeding morning he would call to know whether he might speak to Mr. Wilkins on the subject of this letter. It was given to Ellinor in the evening, as she was sitting with Miss Monro in the library. Mr. Wilkins was dining out, she hardly knew where, as it was a sudden engagement, of which he had sent word from the office--a gentleman's dinner-party, she supposed, as he had dressed in Hamley without coming home. Ellinor turned over the letter when it was brought to her, as some people do when they cannot recognise the handwriting, as if to discover from paper or seal what two moments would assure them of, if they opened the letter and looked at the signature. Ellinor could not guess who had written it by any outward sign; but the moment she saw the name "Herbert Livingstone," the meaning of the letter flashed upon her and she coloured all over. She put the letter away, unread, for a few minutes, and then made some excuse for leaving the room and going upstairs. When safe in her bed-chamber, she read the young man's eager words with a sense of self-reproach. How must she, engaged to one man, have been behaving to another, if this was the result of a single evening's interview? The self-reproach was unjustly bestowed; but with that we have nothing to do. She made herself very miserable; and at last went down with a heavy heart to go on with Dante, and rummage up words in the dictionary. All the time she seemed to Miss Monro to be plodding on with her Italian more diligently and sedately than usual, she was planning in her own mind to speak to her father as soon as he returned (and he had said that he should not be late), and beg him to undo the mischief she had done by seeing Mr. Livingstone the next morning, and frankly explaining the real state of affairs to him. But she wanted to read her letter again, and think it all over in peace; and so, at an early hour, she wished Miss Monro good-night, and went up into her own room above the drawing-room, and overlooking the flower-garden and shrubbery-path to the stable-yard, by which her father was sure to return. She went upstairs and studied her letter well, and tried to recall all her speeches and conduct on that miserable evening--as she thought it then--not knowing what true misery was. Her head ached, and she put out the candle, and went and sat on the window-seat, looking out into the moonlit garden, watching for her father. She opened the window; partly to cool her forehead, partly to enable her to call down softly when she should see him coming along. By-and-by the door from the stable- yard into the shrubbery clicked and opened, and in a moment she saw Mr. Wilkins moving through the bushes; but not alone, Mr. Dunster was with him, and the two were talking together in rather excited tones, immediately lost to hearing, however, as they entered Mr. Wilkins's study by the outer door. "They have been dining together somewhere. Probably at Mr. Hanbury's" (the Hamley brewer), thought Ellinor. "But how provoking that he should have come home with papa this night of all nights!" Two or three times before Mr. Dunster had called on Mr. Wilkins in the evening, as Ellinor knew; but she was not quite aware of the reason for such late visits, and had never put together the two facts--(as cause and consequence)--that on such occasions her father had been absent from the office all day, and that there might be necessary business for him to transact, the urgency of which was the motive for Mr. Dunster's visits. Mr. Wilkins always seemed to be annoyed by his coming at so late an hour, and spoke of it, resenting the intrusion upon his leisure; and Ellinor, without consideration, adopted her father's mode of speaking and thinking on the subject, and was rather more angry than he was whenever the | south | How many times the word 'south' appears in the text? | 0 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | deep | How many times the word 'deep' appears in the text? | 2 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | predict | How many times the word 'predict' appears in the text? | 1 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | endowed | How many times the word 'endowed' appears in the text? | 1 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | which | How many times the word 'which' appears in the text? | 3 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | loved | How many times the word 'loved' appears in the text? | 1 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | clings | How many times the word 'clings' appears in the text? | 1 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | holding | How many times the word 'holding' appears in the text? | 0 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | veritable | How many times the word 'veritable' appears in the text? | 0 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | sons | How many times the word 'sons' appears in the text? | 1 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | joy | How many times the word 'joy' appears in the text? | 3 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | or | How many times the word 'or' appears in the text? | 2 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | chapter | How many times the word 'chapter' appears in the text? | 2 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | moved | How many times the word 'moved' appears in the text? | 0 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | eye | How many times the word 'eye' appears in the text? | 2 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | froze | How many times the word 'froze' appears in the text? | 0 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | chins | How many times the word 'chins' appears in the text? | 0 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | church | How many times the word 'church' appears in the text? | 1 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | though | How many times the word 'though' appears in the text? | 2 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | voice | How many times the word 'voice' appears in the text? | 1 |
And, very recently, the following paragraph appeared in the city papers:-- "'There has been quite a stir recently in this city, in consequence of a marriage of a white man, named Buddington, a teller in the Canal Bank, to the Negro daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants. Buddington, before he could be married was obliged to swear that he had Negro blood in his veins, and to do this he made an incision in his arm, and put some of her blood in the cut. The ceremony was performed by a Catholic clergyman, and the bridegroom has received with his wife a fortune of fifty or sixty thousand dollars.' "It seems that the fifty or sixty thousand dollars entirely covered the Negro woman's black skin, and the law prohibiting marriage between blacks and whites was laid aside for the occasion." Althesa felt proud, as well she might, at her husband's taking such high ground in a slaveholding city like New Orleans. CHAPTER XXI THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH "O weep, ye friends of freedom weep! Your harps to mournful measures sweep." ON the last day of November, 1620, on the confines of the Grand Bank of Newfoundland, lo! we behold one little solitary tempest-tost and weather-beaten ship; it is all that can be seen on the length and breadth of the vast intervening solitudes, from the melancholy wilds of Labrador and New England's ironbound shores, to the western coasts of Ireland and the rock defended Hebrides, but one lonely ship greets the eye of angels or of men, on this great throughfare of nations in our age. Next in moral grandeur, was this ship, to the great discoverer's: Columbus found a continent; the May-flower brought the seedwheat of states and empire. That is the May-flower, with its servants of the living God, their wives and little ones, hastening to lay the foundations of nations in the accidental lands of the setting-sun. Hear the voice of prayer to God for his protection, and the glorious music of praise, as it breaks into the wild tempest of the mighty deep, upon the ear of God. Here in this ship are great and good men. Justice, mercy, humanity, respect for the rights of all; each man honoured, as he was useful to himself and others; labour respected, law-abiding men, constitution-making and respecting men; men, whom no tyrant could conquer, or hardship overcome, with the high commission sealed by a Spirit divine, to establish religious and political liberty for all. This ship had the embryo elements of all that is useful, great, and grand in Northern institutions; it was the great type of goodness and wisdom, illustrated in two and a quarter centuries gone by; it was the good genius of America. But look far in the South-east, and you behold on the same day, in 1620, a low rakish ship hastening from the tropics, solitary and alone, to the New World. What is she? She is freighted with the elements of unmixed evil. Hark! hear those rattling chains, hear that cry of despair and wail of anguish, as they die away in the unpitying distance. Listen to those shocking oaths, the crack of that flesh-cutting whip. Ah! it is the first cargo of slaves on their way to Jamestown, Virginia. Behold the May-flower anchored at Plymouth Rock, the slave-ship in James River. Each a parent, one of the prosperous, labour-honouring, law-sustaining institutions of the North; the other the mother of slavery, idleness, lynch-law, ignorance, unpaid labour, poverty, and duelling, despotism, the ceaseless swing of the whip, and the peculiar institutions of the South. These ships are the representation of good and evil in the New World, even to our day. When shall one of those parallel lines come to an end? The origin of American slavery is not lost in the obscurity of by-gone ages. It is a plain historical fact, that it owes its birth to the African slave trade, now pronounced by every civilised community the greatest crime ever perpetrated against humanity. Of all causes intended to benefit mankind, the abolition of chattel slavery must necessarily be placed amongst the first, and the Negro hails with joy every new advocate that appears in his cause. Commiseration for human suffering and human sacrifices awakened the capacious mind, and brought into action the enlarged benevolence, of Georgiana Carlton. With respect to her philosophy--it was of a noble cast. It was, that all men are by nature equal; that they are wisely and justly endowed by the Creator with certain rights, which are irrefragable; and that, however human pride and human avarice may depress and debase, still God is the author of good to man--and of evil, man is the artificer to himself and to his species. Unlike Plato and Socrates, her mind was free from the gloom that surrounded theirs; her philosophy was founded in the school of Christianity; though a devoted member of her father's church, she was not a sectarian. We learn from Scripture, and it is a little remarkable that it is the only exact definition of religion found in the sacred volume, that "pure religion and undefiled before God, even the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world." "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Remember them that are in bonds as bound with them." "Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do ye even so to them." This was her view of Christianity, and to this end she laboured with all her energies to convince her slaveholding neighbours that the Negro could not only take care of himself, but that he also appreciated liberty, and was willing to work and redeem himself. Her most sanguine wishes were being realized when she suddenly fell into a decline. Her mother had died of consumption, and her physician pronounced this to be her disease. She was prepared for this sad intelligence, and received it with the utmost composure. Although she had confidence in her husband that he would carry out her wishes in freeing the Negroes after her death, Mrs. Carlton resolved upon their immediate liberation. Consequently the slaves were all summoned before the noble woman, and informed that they were no longer bondsmen. "From this hour," said she, "you are free, and all eyes will be fixed upon you. I dare not predict how far your example may affect the welfare of your brethren yet in bondage. If you are temperate, industrious, peaceable, and pious, you will show to the world that slaves can be emancipated without danger. Remember what a singular relation you sustain to society. The necessities of the case require not only that you should behave as well as the whites, but better than the whites; and for this reason: if you behave no better than they, your example will lose a great portion of its influence. Make the Lord Jesus Christ your refuge and exemplar. His is the only standard around which you can successfully rally. If ever there was a people who needed the consolations of religion to sustain them in their grievous afflictions, you are that people. You had better trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man. Happy is that people whose God is the Lord. Get as much education as possible for yourselves and your children. An ignorant people can never occupy any other than a degraded station in society; they can never be truly free until they are intelligent. In a few days you will start for the state of Ohio, where land will be purchased for some of you who have families, and where I hope you will all prosper. We have been urged to send you to Liberia, but we think it wrong to send you from your native land. We did not wish to encourage the Colonization Society, for it originated in hatred of the free coloured people. Its pretences are false, its doctrines odious, its means contemptible. Now, whatever may be your situation in life, 'Remember those in bonds as bound with them.' You must get ready as soon as you can for your journey to the North." Seldom was there ever witnessed a more touching scene than this. There sat the liberator, pale, feeble, emaciated, with death stamped upon her countenance, surrounded by the sons and daughters of Africa; some of whom had in former years been separated from all that they had held near and dear, and the most of whose backs had been torn and gashed by the Negro whip. Some were upon their knees at the feet of their benefactress; others were standing round her weeping. Many begged that they might be permitted to remain on the farm and work for wages, for some had wives and some husbands on other plantations in the neighbourhood, and would rather remain with them. But the laws of the state forbade any emancipated Negroes remaining, under penalty of again being sold into slavery. Hence the necessity of sending them out of the state. Mrs. Carlton was urged by her friends to send the emancipated Negroes to Africa. Extracts from the speeches of Henry Clay, and other distinguished Colonization Society men, were read to her to induce her to adopt this course. Some thought they should he sent away because the blacks are vicious; others because they would be missionaries to their brethren in Africa. "But," said she, "if we send away the Negroes because they are profligate and vicious, what sort of missionaries will they make? Why not send away the vicious among the whites for the same reason, and the same purpose?" Death is a leveller, and neither age, sex, wealth, nor usefulness can avert when he is permitted to strike. The most beautiful flowers soon fade, and droop, and die; this is also the case with man; his days are uncertain as the passing breeze. This hour he glows in the blush of health and vigour, but the next he may be counted with the number no more known on earth. Although in a low state of health, Mrs. Carlton had the pleasure of seeing all her slaves, except Sam and three others, start for a land of freedom. The morning they were to go on board the steamer, bound for Louisville, they all assembled on the large grass plot, in front of the drawing-room window, and wept while they bid their mistress farewell. When they were on the boat, about leaving the wharf, they were heard giving the charge to those on shore--"Sam, take care of Misus, take care of Marser, as you love us, and hope to meet us in de Hio (Ohio), and in heben; be sure and take good care of Misus and Marser." In less than a week after her emancipated people had started for Ohio, Mrs. Carlton was cold in death. Mr. Carlton felt deeply, as all husbands must who love their wives, the loss of her who had been a lamp to his feet, and a light to his path. She had converted him from infidelity to Christianity; from the mere theory of liberty to practical freedom. He had looked upon the Negro as an ill-treated distant link of the human family; he now regarded them as a part of God's children. Oh, what a silence pervaded the house when the Christian had been removed. His indeed was a lonesome position. "'Twas midnight, and he sat alone The husband of the dead, That day the dark dust had been thrown Upon the buried head." In the midst of the buoyancy of youth, this cherished one had drooped and died. Deep were the sounds of grief and mourning heard in that stately dwelling, when the stricken friends, whose office it had been to nurse and soothe the weary sufferer, beheld her pale and motionless in the sleep of death. Oh what a chill creeps through the breaking heart when we look upon the insensible form, and feel that it no longer contains the spirit we so dearly loved! How difficult to realise that the eye which always glowed with affection and intelligence; that the ear which had so often listened to the sounds of sorrow and gladness; that the voice whose accents had been to us like sweet music, and the heart, the habitation of benevolence and truth, are now powerless and insensate as the bier upon which the form rests. Though faith be strong enough to penetrate the cloud of gloom which hovers near, and to behold the freed spirit safe, for ever, safe in its home in heaven, yet the thoughts will linger sadly and cheerlessly upon the grave. Peace to her ashes! she fought the fight, obtained the Christian's victory, and wears the crown. But if it were that departed spirits are permitted to note the occurrences of this world, with what a frown of disapprobation would hers view the effort being made in the United States to retard the work of emancipation for which she laboured and so wished to see brought about. In what light would she consider that hypocritical priesthood who gave their aid and sanction to the infamous "Fugitive Slave Law." If true greatness consists in doing good to mankind, then was Georgiana Carlton an ornament to human nature. Who can think of the broken hearts made whole, of sad and dejected countenances now beaming with contentment and joy, of the mother offering her free-born babe to heaven, and of the father whose cup of joy seems overflowing in the presence of his family, where none can molest or make him afraid. Oh, that God may give more such persons to take the whip-scarred Negro by the hand, and raise him to a level with our common humanity! May the professed lovers of freedom in the new world see that true liberty is freedom for all! and may every American continually hear it sounding in his ear:-- "Shall every flap of England's flag Proclaim that all around are free, From 'farthest Ind' to each blue crag That beetles o'er the Western Sea? And shall we scoff at Europe's kings, When Freedom's fire is dim with us, And round our country's altar clings The damning shade of Slavery's curse?" CHAPTER XXII A RIDE IN A STAGE-COACH WE shall now return to Cincinnati, where we left Clotel preparing to go to Richmond in search of her daughter. Tired of the disguise in which she had escaped, she threw it off on her arrival at Cincinnati. But being assured that not a shadow of safety would attend her visit to a city in which she was well known, unless in some disguise, she again resumed men's apparel on leaving Cincinnati. This time she had more the appearance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman. In addition to the fine suit of black cloth, a splendid pair of dark false whiskers covered the sides of her face, while the curling moustache found its place upon the upper lip. From practice she had become accustomed to high-heeled boots, and could walk without creating any suspicion as regarded her sex. It was a cold evening that Clotel arrived at Wheeling, and took a seat in the coach going to Richmond. She was already in the state of Virginia, yet a long distance from the place of her destination. A ride in a stage-coach, over an American road, is unpleasant under the most favourable circumstances. But now that it was winter, and the roads unusually bad, the journey was still more dreary. However, there were eight passengers in the coach, and I need scarcely say that such a number of genuine Americans could not be together without whiling away the time somewhat pleasantly. Besides Clotel, there was an elderly gentleman with his two daughters--one apparently under twenty years, the other a shade above. The pale, spectacled face of another slim, tall man, with a white neckerchief, pointed him out as a minister. The rough featured, dark countenance of a stout looking man, with a white hat on one side of his head, told that he was from the sunny South. There was nothing remarkable about the other two, who might pass for ordinary American gentlemen. It was on the eve of a presidential election, when every man is thought to be a politician. Clay, Van Buren, and Harrison were the men who expected the indorsement of the Baltimore Convention. "Who does this town go for?" asked the old gent with the ladies, as the coach drove up to an inn, where groups of persons were waiting for the latest papers. "We are divided," cried the rough voice of one of the outsiders. "Well, who do you think will get the majority here?" continued the old gent. "Can't tell very well; I go for 'Old Tip,'" was the answer from without. This brought up the subject fairly before the passengers, and when the coach again started a general discussion commenced, in which all took a part except Clotel and the young ladies. Some were for Clay, some for Van Buren, and others for "Old Tip." The coach stopped to take in a real farmer-looking man, who no sooner entered than he was saluted with "Do you go for Clay?" "No," was the answer. "Do you go for Van Buren?" "No." "Well, then, of course you will go for Harrison." "No." "Why, don't you mean to work for any of them at the election?" "No." "Well, who will you work for?" asked one of the company. "I work for Betsy and the children, and I have a hard job of it at that," replied the farmer, without a smile. This answer, as a matter of course, set the new corner down as one upon whom the rest of the passengers could crack their jokes with the utmost impunity. "Are you an Odd Fellow?" asked one. "No, sir, I've been married more than a month." "I mean, do you belong to the order of Odd Fellows?" "No, no; I belong to the order of married men." "Are you a mason?" "No, I am a carpenter by trade." "Are you a Son of Temperance?" "Bother you, no; I am a son of Mr. John Gosling." After a hearty laugh in which all joined, the subject of Temperance became the theme for discussion. In this the spectacled gent was at home. He soon showed that he was a New Englander, and went the whole length of the "Maine Law." The minister was about having it all his own way, when the Southerner, in the white hat, took the opposite side of the question. "I don't bet a red cent on these teetotlars," said he, and at the same time looking round to see if he had the approbation of the rest of the company. "Why?" asked the minister. "Because they are a set who are afraid to spend a cent. They are a bad lot, the whole on 'em." It was evident that the white hat gent was an uneducated man. The minister commenced in full earnest, and gave an interesting account of the progress of temperance in Connecticut, the state from which he came, proving, that a great portion of the prosperity of the state was attributable to the disuse of intoxicating drinks. Every one thought the white hat had got the worst of the argument, and that he was settled for the remainder of the night. But not he; he took fresh courage and began again. "Now," said he, "I have just been on a visit to my uncle's in Vermont, and I guess I knows a little about these here teetotlars. You see, I went up there to make a little stay of a fortnight. I got there at night, and they seemed glad to see me, but they didn't give me a bit of anything to drink. Well, thinks I to myself, the jig's up: I sha'n't get any more liquor till I get out of the state." We all sat up till twelve o'clock that night, and I heard nothing but talk about the 'Juvinal Temperence Army,' the 'Band of Hope,' the 'Rising Generation,' the 'Female Dorcas Temperance Society,' 'The None Such,' and I don't know how many other names they didn't have. As I had taken several pretty large 'Cock Tails' before I entered the state, I thought upon the whole that I would not spite for the want of liquor. The next morning, I commenced writing back to my friends, and telling them what's what. Aunt Polly said, 'Well, Johnny, I s'pose you are given 'em a pretty account of us all here.' 'Yes,' said I; I am tellin' 'em if they want anything to drink when they come up here, they had better bring it with 'em.' 'Oh,' said aunty, 'they would search their boxes; can't bring any spirits in the state.' Well, as I was saying, jist as I got my letters finished, and was going to the post office (for uncle's house was two miles from the town), aunty says, 'Johnny, I s'pose you'll try to get a little somethin' to drink in town won't you?' Says I, 'I s'pose it's no use. 'No,' said she, 'you can't; it ain't to be had no how, for love nor money.' So jist as I was puttin' on my hat, 'Johnny,' cries out aunty, 'What,' says I. 'Now I'll tell you, I don't want you to say nothin' about it, but I keeps a little rum to rub my head with, for I am troubled with the headache; now I don't want you to mention it for the world, but I'll give you a little taste, the old man is such a teetotaller, that I should never hear the last of it, and I would not like for the boys to know it, they are members of the "Cold Water Army."' "Aunty now brought out a black bottle and gave me a cup, and told me to help myself, which I assure you I did. I now felt ready to face the cold. As I was passing the barn I heard uncle thrashing oats, so I went to the door and spoke to him. 'Come in, John,' says he. 'No,' said I; 'I am goin' to post some letters,' for I was afraid that he would smell my breath if I went too near to him. 'Yes, yes, come in.' So I went in, and says he, 'It's now eleven o'clock; that's about the time you take your grog, I s'pose, when you are at home.' 'Yes,' said I. 'I am sorry for you, my lad; you can't get anything up here; you can't even get it at the chemist's, except as medicine, and then you must let them mix it and you take it in their presence.' 'This is indeed hard,' replied I; 'Well, it can't be helped,' continued he: 'and it ought not to be if it could. It's best for society; people's better off without drink. I recollect when your father and I, thirty years ago, used to go out on a spree and spend more than half a dollar in a night. Then here's the rising generation; there's nothing like settin' a good example. Look how healthy your cousins are there's Benjamin, he never tasted spirits in his life. Oh, John, I would you were a teetotaller.' 'I suppose,' said I, 'I'll have to be one till I leave the state.' 'Now,' said he, 'John, I don't want you to mention it, for your aunt would go into hysterics if she thought there was a drop of intoxicating liquor about the place, and I would not have the boys to know it for anything, but I keep a little brandy to rub my joints for the rheumatics, and being it's you, I'll give you a little dust.' So the old man went to one corner of the barn, took out a brown jug and handed it to me, and I must say it was a little the best cognac that I had tasted for many a day. Says I, 'Uncle, you are a good judge of brandy.' 'Yes,' said he, 'I learned when I was young.' So off I started for the post office. In returnin' I thought I'd jist go through the woods where the boys were chopping wood, and wait and go to the house with them when they went to dinner. I found them hard at work, but as merry as crickets. 'Well, cousin John, are you done writing?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Have you posted them?' 'Yes.' 'Hope you didn't go to any place inquiring for grog.' 'No, I knowed it was no good to do that.' 'I suppose a cock-tail would taste good now.' 'Well, I guess it would,' says I. The three boys then joined in a hearty laugh. 'I suppose you have told 'em that we are a dry set up here?' 'Well, I ain't told em anything else.' 'Now, cousin John,' said Edward, 'if you wont say anything, we will give you a small taste. For mercy's sake don't let father or mother know it; they are such rabid teetotallers, that they would not sleep a wink to-night if they thought there was any spirits about the place.' 'I am mum,' says I. And the boys took a jug out of a hollow stump, and gave me some first-rate peach brandy. And during the fortnight that I was in Vermont, with my teetotal relations, I was kept about as well corned as if I had been among my hot water friends in Tennessee." This narrative, given by the white hat man, was received with unbounded applause by all except the pale gent in spectacles, who showed, by the way in which he was running his fingers between his cravat and throat, that he did not intend to "give it up so." The white hat gent was now the lion of the company. "Oh, you did not get hold of the right kind of teetotallers," said the minister. "I can give you a tale worth a dozen of yours, continued he. "Look at society in the states where temperance views prevail, and you will there see real happiness. The people are taxed less, the poor houses are shut up for want of occupants, and extreme destitution is unknown. Every one who drinks at all is liable to become an habitual drunkard. Yes, I say boldly, that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from the danger of at least occasional, and if of occasional, ultimately of habitual excess. There seems to be no character, position, or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise, led by the drinking habit into vice, ruin, and early death. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday scholars whom it has led to prison-teachers, and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. I have known ministers of high academic honours, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated, and hurried over the precipice of public infamy with their eyes open, and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect and of vigorous resolution, whom it has made weaker than children and fools--gentlemen of refinement and taste whom it has debased into brutes--poets of high genius whom it has bound in a bondage worse than the galleys, and ultimately cut short their days. I have known statesmen, lawyers, and judges whom it has killed--kind husbands and fathers whom it has turned into monsters. I have known honest men whom it has made villains; elegant and Christian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots." "But you talk too fast," replied the white hat man. "You don't give a feller a chance to say nothin'." "I heard you," continued the minister, "and now you hear me out. It is indeed wonderful how people become lovers of strong drink. Some years since, before I became a teetotaller I kept spirits about the house, and I had a servant who was much addicted to strong drink. He used to say that he could not make my boots shine, without mixing the blacking with whiskey. So to satisfy myself that the whiskey was put in the blacking, one morning I made him bring the dish in which he kept the blacking, and poured in the whiskey myself. And now, sir, what do you think?" "Why, I s'pose your boots shined better than before," replied the white hat. "No," continued the minister. "He took the blacking out, and I watched him, and he drank down the whiskey, blacking, and all." This turned the joke upon the advocate of strong drink, and he began to put his wits to work for arguments. "You are from Connecticut, are you?" asked the Southerner. "Yes, and we are an orderly, pious, peaceable people. Our holy religion is respected, and we do more for the cause of Christ than the whole Southern States put together." "I don't doubt it," said the white hat gent. "You sell wooden nutmegs and other spurious articles enough to do some good. You talk of your 'holy religion'; but your robes' righteousness are woven at Lowell and Manchester; your paradise is high per centum on factory stocks; your palms of victory and crowns of rejoicing are triumphs over a rival party in politics, on the questions of banks and tariffs. If you could, you would turn heaven into Birmingham, make every angel a weaver, and with the eternal din of looms and spindles drown all the anthems of the morning stars. Ah! I know you Connecticut people like a book. No, no, all hoss; you can't come it on me." | labrador | How many times the word 'labrador' appears in the text? | 1 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | stuff | How many times the word 'stuff' appears in the text? | 3 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | packet | How many times the word 'packet' appears in the text? | 0 |
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Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | one | How many times the word 'one' appears in the text? | 2 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | nobody | How many times the word 'nobody' appears in the text? | 3 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | modern | How many times the word 'modern' appears in the text? | 1 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | different | How many times the word 'different' appears in the text? | 2 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | science | How many times the word 'science' appears in the text? | 2 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | love | How many times the word 'love' appears in the text? | 2 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | lounging | How many times the word 'lounging' appears in the text? | 0 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | refreshments | How many times the word 'refreshments' appears in the text? | 2 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | schools | How many times the word 'schools' appears in the text? | 2 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | thoughtful | How many times the word 'thoughtful' appears in the text? | 0 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | thinking | How many times the word 'thinking' appears in the text? | 1 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | daryl | How many times the word 'daryl' appears in the text? | 3 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | reverse | How many times the word 'reverse' appears in the text? | 2 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | bunting | How many times the word 'bunting' appears in the text? | 3 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | indecipherable | How many times the word 'indecipherable' appears in the text? | 1 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | drop | How many times the word 'drop' appears in the text? | 1 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | employees | How many times the word 'employees' appears in the text? | 2 |
Antitrust Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS "ANTITRUST" Screenplay by Howard Franklin SHOOTING DRAFT 2001 ON A BLACK SCREEN it says: "The coolest thing?" VOICE Wow. That's hard. I'd have to say it's the day we launched Outpost '98. We hear a (famous) Seattle alternative band. EXT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (BEGIN MAIN TITLES) Quick cuts, seductive angles: 70 hot-air balloons rise over a vast, green corporate campus. Their mylar skins are imprinted with Outpost '98 logos; their gondolas are dressed in Outpost-colored bunting. 18,000 Outpost employees cheer. They're spread out over rolling lawns, amid Arabian tents and costumed Acrobats. Over the balloon-dotted sky, the graphic re-appears: "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DARYL) It's the beverages. INT. OUTPOST OFFICE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits in his handsome office, forested landscape out the window. The screen says: DARYL, M.I.T. '95 DARYL Gary always makes sure we've got the coolest stuff to drink. JUMP CUTS of tall refrigerators: Snapples, Cokes, Fruitopias, Zaps, Jolts, Barques & Sprites are lined-up behind glass doors. "The coolest thing?" DIFFERENT VOICE (DIANA) Knowing your work means something. INT. OUTPOST CAMPUS - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A 24-year-old Korean-American Girl sits at the edge of a plashing, post-modern fountain. DIANA, STANFORD '97 DIANA (V.O.) Knowing everywhere in the world, this is the software people use. MONTAGE of world capitals & remote places: Stockbrokers & Farmers, News Anchors & Students, CEO's & Eskimos boot-up Outpost '98, or log-on with Outpost Internet Traveler. DIANA (V.O.) 20 years ago, Gary had an idea, that's all he had. And now the company's bigger than IBM. Over the last shot (a Ghetto Kid uses Outpost Word in the library): "The coolest thing?" VOICE (V.O.) It's the people. Which is weird. EXT. COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE - DAY (CONTINUE TITLES & MUSIC) A Programmer sits with two colleagues, drinking latt s at the edge of Lake Washington. MITCH, BERKELEY, '98 MITCH Big companies are s'posed to be impersonal. MONTAGE: Programmers play competitive games at an Outpost picnic; Toddlers play on computers in an Outpost Day Care Center; Geeks confer at a diagram-covered whiteboard; Employees listen/dance to the Seattle band we've been hearing, on-stage, at the Outpost '98 launch. MITCH (V.O.) There's this myth that doing a start- up is cooler. But there's no community with a start-up. No permanence. BACK TO SCENE: COFFEE HOUSE/TERRACE (CONTINUE TITLES) One of Mitch's colleagues is nodding. DONNY, HARVARD, '97 DONNY It bums me out when the media say we're cultish, or whatever. Why? 'Cause we care about each other? Donny didn't mean to sound so mushy. Nobody knows where to look for a second. MITCH 'Love you too, bro. As they laugh: "The coolest thing?" VOICE (TERRY) I'll tell you what's not cool. TERRY How Gary gets this superbad rap. MONTAGE of magazine covers (Newsweek, Vanity Fair, WIRED) featuring Gary Boyd. They say, eg: "Who Owns Cyberspace?" On a Time cover, he's composited by the Capitol Dome: "ROBBER BARON OR VISIONARY? Outpost's Antitrust Woes" TERRY (V.O.) There's this prejudice against super- smart people. People like Gary. GARY (early 40's) reads a statement before a Congressional Sub-Committee. His voice is pleasant but firm: GARY A kid working in his garage can create the next Outpost, the new IBM. All it takes is a great idea. A bloated Senator looks hostile. GARY That's why nobody can have a monopoly in a business built on ideas. As we watch, CAMERA pulls back from the screen on which the movie is being projected. REVERSE INTO: INT. COLLEGE AUDITORIUM - EVENING (END MAIN TITLES) Over an audience of 40 or so computer students we read: STANFORD UNIVERSITY We pick out MILO CONNOR, watching keenly. He's 21: clear- eyed, alive, innocent. He sits with his best friend, TEDDY CHIN, third-generation Chinese-American. DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.) The coolest? Gary. He's like you or me. If we happened t'be insanely rich. Some appreciative laughter in the auditorium. But behind Milo, LARRY LINDHOLM squirms in his seat. He whispers: LARRY Can we go? VOICE (FROM THE FILM) For me? It's Seattle! LARRY 'Starting to get nauseated. BRIAN BISSEL, in front of Milo, twists in his seat: BRIAN Do you mind? Larry gets up. Two Outpost Recruiters, REDMOND PRICE, 31 (gray suit) and DANNY BAYLOR, 29 (Outpost '98 golf shirt) note the walkout. Danny scans headshots in a Stanford Yearbook. (On-screen behind them we see Seattle: night streets wet-down & shimmering; Young People entering a club; Young People climbing Mt. Shasta.) Finding Larry's picture, Danny points out the name to Redmond, who shrugs: unconcerned. VOICE FROM THE MOVIE Did anybody mention the beverages? INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The double-doors swing open (over them, a plate reads: THE HEWLITT-PACKARD AUDITORIUM) and Larry comes out. UP THE HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS ALICE POULSON, a very pretty girl of 21 (more hiply dressed than the geeks) searches the hall, reading the names over the doors (NEC Communications Classroom, Toshiba Computer Lab, Mitsubishi Classroom). She spots Larry. ALICE Is it over? LARRY They still have to give 'em refreshments laced with mind-altering drugs. ALICE You are a fanatic. LARRY 'Gonna wait outside. EXT. STANFORD COMPUTER SCIENCE BLDG. - A MOMENT LATER Tilting down the neo-classical edifice, we read the name etched over the entrance: WILLIAM GATES COMPUTER SCIENCE BUILDING. We find Larry and Alice sitting on the steps. LARRY (AT FIRST O.S.) Alice? You gotta make him do the start-up with Teddy and me. ALICE "Make" him? LARRY (thoughtfully) You know what I mean. As we hear Larry speak, we cut back into: THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS The lights are on. Milo & Teddy stand by a table dressed in Outpost bunting, laden with refreshments & giveaways: mousepads, T-shirts, caps & books with the Outpost logo on them (a simple contour drawing of a frontier outpost). While most Students chat earnestly with Recruiters, Milo & Teddy load their plates with pizza and tortilla chips. LARRY (V.O.) I'm not exactly worldly, but I'm the Secretary of State next to him. Milo puts some brownies on his plate. LARRY (V.O.) And they're all throwing this -- stuff at him. Stock options. Pay packages. Spotting a book on the table, Milo picks it up. EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS LARRY I'm just screwed. ALICE (that's not true) You know what he's like. He just wants to work on stuff that's cool. LARRY You don't wanna move, do you? ALICE I can paint anywhere. Larry looks at her: you didn't answer my question. ALICE I'd like to stay here, yeah. And I kind of think he should be with Teddy. THE AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Milo and Teddy discuss the book almost joyfully. (We see a page of code: utterly indecipherable.) ALICE (V.O.) I mean, nobody else can follow what they're talking about half the time. MILO/TEDDY (under Alice) 'Could be a condition-variable in the locking code -- If it didn't seg fault, first! EXT. GATES BLDG. - CONTINUOUS ALICE Maybe you shouldn't push it so hard. About Outpost. No offense, you sound insane. LARRY I can't help it. I feel like they'd do anything to keep their -- ALICE Anything? That's not even credible. If he wants to go up there? To check it out? I think you should encourage him. (seeing Larry's incredulity) It's his life. But everybody's treating him like this -- valuable object. You're hurting your own case. INT. AUDITORIUM - CONTINUOUS Brian, already wearing one of the Outpost caps, effuses to Redmond. BRIAN He's my god. I hear he actually calls recruits sometimes. Or is that an Urban Legend? REDMOND Gary's running the biggest software company in the world, Brian. He's being harassed by the Justice Department, and he's got a new baby. Across the room, Milo (eating chips, perusing code) reaches for a napkin but unwittingly grabs some bunting. It unravels in a long TP-like streamer -- just as Danny approaches, peering at Milo's ID tag. DANNY Milo? I'm Danny. MILO Oh hi. He tries to sluff the paper off his hand; Danny holds out a cell phone. DANNY Gary would like to speak to you? Milo and Teddy look at each other: right. But Danny looks like he means it. Milo's grin fades. He takes the phone. MILO ...Hello? GARY (ON THE PHONE) Milo? Gary Boyd. I'm hoping you and your friend can come up here. We've made some amazing strides in digital convergence. I'd love to show them to you. MILO You would? Wow. When would we come? (he waits; he looks up) 'Think he hung up. Danny holds out two plane tickets, in 1st class folders. INT. UNIVERSITY AVENUE DINER (PALO ALTO) - NIGHT Alice examines one of the tickets almost suspiciously. ALICE But how does he know that's what you guys're working on? Larry, Teddy & Brian are at the table with Alice & Milo. It's a student hang-out, with loud music. MILO All the companies know. The faculties tell 'em. At the target schools. LARRY In exchange for endowments. They should just drop the pretense and name the schools after 'em. BRIAN (to Teddy) I can't believe you refused a ticket! TEDDY My parents're already freaked-out I'm staying here. 50 miles from Chinatown. BRIAN Well maybe if you told 'em how much money you'd be making -- (to Milo) You're going up there. Right? LARRY I think you should go. MILO (amazed) You do? LARRY I mean, it's your life. As Alice predicted, Milo is pleased by Larry's remark. "Empowered." Larry smiles conspiratorially at Alice. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT In a tidy, playfully decorated room, Alice stirs in bed, sees the space next to her is vacant. TINY ROOM - CONTINUOUS Milo sits at a desk, thinking, agitated, in the dim light of a PC. He looks up, sees Alice in the doorway. MILO I think I kind of lost it. I was just so thrilled to be talking to the richest, most powerful... 'Didn't know I even cared about that stuff. ALICE C'mon, how often do you talk to somebody who's been on the cover of Time. Three of four times. She picks her way through geek clutter (motherboards, code manuals, Coke cans) sits next to him. MILO A lot of what Larry says is true. They just clone stuff, or reverse engineer it, and everybody gets stuck with their inferior version cause they -- ALICE Then you've gotta ask him about that. He looks at her: you've gotta be kidding. ALICE It's important. MILO If he's really a bully, he won't cop to it, anyway. ALICE Bully? Are we talking about Gary Boyd? Or your dad. He doesn't deny it: she sees right through him. MILO When I was a kid? And he was moving us all over the place? I spent all my time writing stuff on Outpost 1.0. I thought Gary Boyd was the greatest. ALICE But he's not quite the same guy anymore. Don't get your hopes too high? INT. 737 - FIRST CLASS CABIN - DAY In the cabin, everybody types on a notebook but Milo. He looks out the window expectantly: at the Seattle skyline. INT. SEA-TAC AIRPORT - GATE 13 - DAY Milo comes off the plane. Danny and Redmond greet him. INT/EXT. HIGHWAY/CAR - DAY Redmond drives his black Lexus 85 m.p.h. Danny leans forward from the backseat. DANNY 'Couldn't convince Teddy to come? MILO He's pretty tight with his family. DANNY We could move 'em up here. MILO He just likes to write code. He's bummed there's so much secrecy and competition, everybody trying to own everything. REDMOND Who do you mean by "everybody." Milo almost blushes. He makes an awkward segue. MILO So -- how far are we from the campus? REDMOND Oh we're not going to the campus. EXT. GARY BOYD'S COMPOUND - LAKE WASHINGTON - DAY Beyond a rocky beach, buildings are cunningly carved into a wooded hillside. Glass walls are framed in rich wood. The main house is 28,000 sq. ft. Then there's the guest house, pool building, reception hall, library... EXT. GATEHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Redmond pulls up. A discreet Guard in a Mr. Rogers cardigan recognizes him. The gates swing open. EXT. BOYD HOUSE - DAY They pull up by a Lexus SUV with a baby seat. Another Man in a cardigan stands in the open front door. MILO Who's that? DANNY I think they call him the "Houseman." 'Cause "guard" sounds too weird. Milo just sits there, eyeing the monumental residence. DANNY Don't be nervous. The house is the weirdest thing about him. REDMOND It's like he knows everybody expects him to be this worldly, colorful zillionaire. But he's just a guy who likes software. INT. BOYD MANSION - DEN-LIKE ROOM - DAY Milo and the Houseman cross a long room with a lake view. We hear music by Satie. The Craftsman furniture and lamps are custom-made. A Cezanne hangs on the wall. ANOTHER DEN-LIKE ROOM WITH A VIEW There's a Craftsman crib here, stuffed animals, another Cezanne. Even the toys seem arranged. They enter an ANTEROOM/CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS HOUSEMAN Have a seat. He won't be long. Milo sits on a bench. He tries not to look, but his childhood hero is partly visible through a glass panel in the door: Gary (in a suit and tie) has an open American face. But something goes on behind his pleasant features and self- possessed mien: his desire (or need) to solve the problem at hand is so intense it makes him appear vexed -- even vulnerable. CONFERENCE ROOM - CONTINUOUS As Gary concentrates, two Outpost Senior Managers speak: PHIL TATE, 40 (bald); and RANDY GRIMES, 36, (gray eyes). PHIL We tried the big vaporware number, Gary, it's no-sale. RANDY Can we buy into their IPO? Or is that a Justice Dept. problem? PHIL There is no public offering. The guy who wrote it joined some freakazoid cult in San Luis Obispo. 'Wrote this just to run their web site. ANTEROOM - CONTINUOUS Gary speaks with precise hand gestures: settling the matter. Phil and Randy gather their papers, and stand. They exit, nodding at Milo as they pass. Then Gary comes out. GARY Milo? Excuse the tie. I was on TV. Milo is a little dazzled as they shake hands: such a fam- iliar face, such a big figure in his young life. MILO ...That's okay. INT. DEN-LIKE ROOM - MOVING Now New Age music plays. They move back through the same room, but the Cezanne has been replaced by a Hieronymus Bosch (bodies roiling in Hell). Milo is -- puzzled. GARY The house knows the paintings I like, it knows my favorite music. Same for anybody else who's in the system. NEXT ROOM - STILL MOVING As they walk, Milo watches a Cezanne "original" digitally re- configure to a Bosch, brushstrokes and all. MILO Cool! GARY Would you like a Coke or something? MILO (too shy, too nervous) Oh. No thanks. He opens a glass-doored refrigerator, scans a shelf with rows of Snapples -- in alphabetical order. GARY When we started, I just hired my smart friends. That was great. We got a little bigger, I had to hire smart strangers. Much harder. He selects a Kiwi-Raspberry, they walk on. GARY Now I don't get to hire anybody. But I know you're the guy to write Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM (LAKE VIEW) - MOMENTS LATER They enter. An entire wall is taken-up by a Bosch triptych. As Gary crosses to the other side of the room, Milo stands by a table covered in art books -- hundreds of them (Soutine, Chinoiserie, Roy Lichtenstein...) MILO You know a lot about art, I guess. GARY There's a rumor going around, maybe you've heard it. Gary heads back, carrying something spherical. GARY There's more to life than computers? I'm looking into it. Glancing down at the daunting display of books, Gary looks vaguely afflicted. He mutters: GARY 'Once I start looking into something. Looking up now (and much more at ease) he holds up a shiny, detailed metal object: model satellite. GARY I've only shown this to three other people. I bought 200, we've launched 12 so far. I keep the coordinates in this room. (as Milo takes it, carefully) It's left over from SDI. Reagan's Star Wars technology? They orbit 426 miles up. MILO Low enough to relay internet traffic. GARY (he smiles: exactly) Among other things... We know convergence is the real super-highway: all the PC's, TV's, phones, etc. linked together. Why cram it into a cable if you can use the whole sky? MILO (turning the sleek object) Skywire. INT. GARY'S WORKROOM - LATER Milo and Gary peer at a monitor, side-by-side. Milo sips his own Snapple now. Gary speaks his language. GARY The content filer has t'be written into the media files so bits coming off the satellite can be read by multiplatforms. Really, omniplatforms. Including whatever new hardware emerges. MILO It needs a more object-oriented language. This doesn't scale, does it? GARY You'd have to start practically from scratch. But this is all you'd be working on. No marketing meetings, no product seminars. We can't waste the time. Half the Valley's working on convergence. So're media conglomerates, cable companies, phone companies. 'Can't finish second, Milo. There is no second... Now what would you like to ask me? Milo has a deer-in-the-headlights look. MILO ...Ask you? INT. GARY'S HOUSE - ANOTHER ROOM - DUSK As they walk, Milo chides himself for his reticence. Gary seems to read his mind. GARY I know what people say, and not just the Justice Department. We clone ideas, inflict our second-rate versions on the world, we haven't done anything original since 1.0. Milo's amazed by Gary's acuity. And his candor. GARY Do I think that's fair? No. I'd put some of our apps up against anybody's. But is there some truth to it? They have come to a stop in a windowed entryway. Milo watches Gary keenly. Gary nods. He knits his brow. GARY When you get to a certain age, you start wondering. About your legacy. I doubt you even remember Outpost 1.0 -- MILO I do! GARY (pleased) Yeah? I wanna feel like I did when I wrote that. But I'm 42, that's 100 in cyber-years. I look at you and see the things that got me here. (the furrows deepen) But somehow got away. EXT. CUPERTINO HILLS (SILICON VALLEY) - NIGHT A block of floodlit "tract mansions," Taco Bell palaces of the Valley's newly rich. Milo & Alice cross a vacant lot to where the lights twinkle below. Their '89 Honda Civic is parked nearby. Milo is excited. MILO If my dad'd leveled with me like that even once... The weird thing is, my fantasy he could somehow be like the old Gary? It's his fantasy, too. ALICE I think that's great, Milo. I do. MILO ...But? ALICE Didn't you visit the campus? MILO I forgot. That's why you have to help me decide. ALICE No way. You have this -- destiny. MILO C'mon, I wouldn't have a destiny without you. My destiny would be dying at 20. From eating -- ALICE Don't bring that up. Like a different girlfriend would'd've let you die? MILO (shrugs) You saved my life in alot of ways. He's sweet. She kisses him. He holds onto her. ALICE It's not just Gary that makes you wanna go there? 'Cause it's a big place. You might not even see him again. He'd hate to think that's true. But he manages a smile. MILO I know. EXT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - DAY The Honda is loaded with luggage and boxes, some of which are tied to the roof. Milo & Alice stow a final piece. MILO When's Brian coming for the TV? ALICE Prob'ly waiting by the phone for Outpost to call. We'll leave it for him? As they head back in, they see a Toyota park at the curb. ALICE 'Give you guys some time alone. She continues inside. He waits, watches Teddy cross the sidewalk to join him. MILO ...You got my E-mail? TEDDY And your phone messages. You wanna do what you do, it's not a crime. MILO Is that how Larry feels? TEDDY Uh. Not exactly. A brown Buick parks behind Teddy's car. As they speak, a rumpled, 50ish MAN in an off-the-rack suit gets out. MILO Wanted to say goodbye to him... TEDDY Hey, we got seed money for the startup! A million-five! Milo grins, he high-fives Teddy. TEDDY We rented a loft in Sunnyvale. (he gives Milo the number) You know what's the bad part? We can't talk about work anymore. We're competitors! The venture capitalists made us sign like 100 confidentiality forms. MILO Outpost made me sign 1,000. 'Guess we'll find out what else we have to talk about. Life stuff. They embrace. It's awkward, but it's heartfelt. INT. MILO & ALICE'S APARTMENT - A MOMENT LATER Milo enters, reading Teddy's phone number. MILO Guess what? They got their -- The rumpled Man sits on a radiator, watching CNN on a TV, the last remaining piece of furniture. Alice enters, holding a jam jar filled water, hands Milo a business card. ALICE Milo, this is Mr. Barton from the Justice Department. (gives Barton the water) Sorry about the glass. Milo reads the card: Lyle Barton, Asst. Prosecutor, DOJ, Seattle Branch Office. Milo's a little spooked. BARTON Don't worry, Milo. I'm here as a friend. Or maybe a supplicant. MILO Right... What's that mean again? BARTON Beggar. We're at a disadvantage with Outpost. Our experts aren't as smart as theirs. Sometimes we can't tell which technologies pose the threat of a monopoly. We need a really smart guy to help us pick our fights. I'm taking a shot in the dark, here. I can offer you 32,000 a year, a Buick. I'm hoping you've got a feeling it's the right thing to do. MILO (fiddling with the card) It's just -- I kind of feel the need to do something with my ability. Create something... BARTON Like I said: shot in the dark. Milo tries to give back the card. BARTON If you see something there that rubs you the wrong way? Do the right thing. And he goes. MILO That took some fun out of -- ALICE We're not gonna let it. She kisses him. They head out. We linger. On TV a graphic says: SAN LUIS OBISPO, CA: MASS SUICIDE - LIVE. Emergency Medical Personnel roll gurneys with bodies out of a new Mediterranean mansion. Footage shows bodies (including a few children) on bunkbeds, uniformly shod in black Nikes. CNN VOICE -- ingested the fatal mixture of sedatives crushed in apple sauce. According to the cult's eerily professional website, it was "time to move on..." EXT. OUTPOST CORPORATE CAMPUS - DAY Crane past identical, low, steel & glass buildings, amid the vast lawns & fir trees... Past a building under construction... To find Redmond's Lexus, cruising. INT./EXT. REDMOND'S CAR/CAMPUS - CONTINUOUS Milo looks out the window, Redmond gives the tour: REDMOND There're 20 buildings, I mean not counting the Gyms, the Day Care, etc. The Day Care is a Michael Graves-looking building with a big cartoon-dog sculpture on its roof, ears cocked to the sky. A Teacher leads her little charges inside. REDMOND Gary's put millions in there. And the people with kids? They're not hotshot geeks, they're just payroll clerks or whatever. Two Men in suits, with briefcases, (conspicuous amid the Geeks in jeans and T-shirts) enter Building #19. REDMOND You'll see alot of that: Department of Justice goons snooping around. The car pulls into a lot full of Miatas, BMW's, Boxters. CLOSE ON - THE OUTPOST LOGO THEN TILT UP TO SHOW: EXT. BUILDING 20 QUAD - DAY The logo is of inlaid stone. Redmond & Milo walk over it. Milo carries a box with some personal effects, including a small painting. Redmond wears a photo I.D. tag. REDMOND So how'd you like the house? MILO His Snapples were in alphabetical order. REDMOND (he laughs) Well, he micro-managed the company till it got too big... (he opens the door) 'Guess he needs to micro-manage something. INT. BLDG. 20 LOBBY - CONTINUOUS At the desk, a RECEPTIONIST looks up, stands to hang a temporary ID pass around Milo's neck. RECEPTIONIST Milo, I'm Judith. Welcome! Milo smiles. Redmond uses his magnetic swipe card on an inner door (a security cam is at every door); he holds the door open for Milo. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS They walk up a long carpeted hallway, past open offices where Geeks (mostly males under 30) sit at workstations. REDMOND Everybody has the same office, there's no dumbass corporate hierarchy. They pass a room in which Geeks play video games. Just outside it, a chubby programmer, DESI, sips a Diet Coke. DESI Get out while you can, dude! REDMOND Desi, Milo. DESI The guy who was at Gary's house? He bows deep, with mock-obeisance. Milo blushes, Redmond laughs, he snags Milo's elbow. They walk again, passing a service hall with a Civil Defense sign. REDMOND Best bomb shelters in America, accessible from every building. You gotta figure we're a major target, right? ANOTHER HALLWAY - A MOMENT LATER Up the hall, a young woman (LISA) is about to go into her office. She pauses half a second, looks at Milo, goes in. She's beautiful. REDMOND Whoa. Lisa actually looked at you. As they pass her office, they look in: she's already at her workstation, studiously avoiding their gaze. REDMOND Every geek here's got a thing for Lisa. But that's about the biggest reaction she's had to anybody. MILO (shy, changing the emphasis) She's a programmer? REDMOND Heavy graphical background, doing design-interface for Skywire apps. (he all but winks) You'll be working with her. MILO I've got a girlfriend, remember? REDMOND Right. That's rare around here. You know how nuns' re-married to Jesus? 'Posties are married to Outpost. INT. MILO'S OFFICE - MOMENT LATER A handsome, modest office like all the others: workstation, whiteboard, window. They enter. REDMOND Here's your world. (pointing at the desk) Copy of Gary's book, also the audio version, narrated by Gary. Milo puts down his box, picks up the book: The Next Highway (Gary by a highway on its cover). As we look at it: VOICE (SHROT) The card's encoded. Tells us who came through the door and when. INT. OFFICE OF PHYSICAL SECURITY - LATER In an office with a bank of monitors that play feeds from security cameras, BOB SHROT, 40, Head of Physical Security, issues Milo his swipe card. Redmond watches. SHROT Unauthorized entries sound like this. He drags the card through a sample slot, producing an unbelievably loud, piercing EEEEEEEE. He shouts over it: SHROT If you see a tailgater, report him. MILO Tailgater? SHROT (kills the alarm) Somebody coming in on your swipe. (gives Milo a photo ID) You see somebody wandering around without ID, it's your duty to challenge him. I don't give a shit if you're a stock-option billionaire. If you don't challenge, I'll have your butt. INT. HALLWAY - LATER MILO He seems a little -- tense. REDMOND Geeks pull his chain cause he's non- tech. Ex-cop or something. They moon cameras, or use ATM's as swipe cards. The cameras're our real security so he's a little demoralized. EXT. BUILDING 20/PARKING LOT - DAY As they walk, Milo watches two Hardhats roll a spool of fiber- optic cable into the building under construction. MILO What're they building? REDMOND #21. Way behind schedule. It's top- secret, but everybody knows it's a digital broadcast space. They see the dishes on top, the fiber optics going in. MILO Gary's not into fiber optics. He's betting everything on the satellites. REDMOND You wanna survive in the software business, you cover your bets... I gotta say, this is the weirdest car anybody ever requested. They approach a 1990 Deux Chevaux, cheap but charming. REDMOND Oh, right. Your girlfriend's an artist. INT. BLDG. 20 CAFETERIA - DAY Blond wood, smoked glass -- a room as sleek as the Geeks who lunch here are nerdy. Milo and Redmond push trays. REDMOND I phoned her at your hotel, told her about our corporate housing options. She sounds neat. Lisa's at a table, looking at Milo. When their eyes meet, she busies herself, placing the plates back on her tray. MILO ...She is. (turning away from Lisa) She is! Lisa passes behind them, smiles fleetingly at Milo. At a table, Randy and Phil note the "interaction." Meantime: REDMOND 'Might be some friction on the domestic front. You're expected you to put in ridiculous hours. People've accused us of breaking up relationships to get their undivided attention. He laughs. INT. BLDG. 20 HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS Lisa moves swiftly up the hall. She looks up it and down it (making sure no one's looking) before ducking into MILO'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS She goes to the box on Milo's desk (his personal effects) -- starts rooting through it. INT. CAFETERIA - LATER Redmond and Milo have eaten; Redmond stacks their plates. REDMOND Your counselor'll fill you in on everything | commanded | How many times the word 'commanded' appears in the text? | 0 |