《谎言背后》WhatLiesBeneath
what lies beneath
by
clark gregg
june 14, 1999
fade in:
moving through a murky haze. dark blues and greens, shafts
of prismed purple. a pale shard appears in the distance.
gliding closer, a group of tiny fish dart before the camera.
we're underwater. arriving at the form, it finally sharpens
into focus. it's a woman's body submerged in dark water,
arms floating lazily at her side. the face is obscured by
flowing hair. all that is visible is a pair of cold, staring
green eyes, which blink closed...
morph to:
...then open as blue eyes, as a different face emerges from
water. claire spencer awakens from this unsettling dream in
her bathtub. she pivots the large brass shower head off to one side,
reaches toward her feet and we hear the sound of a plug being
pulled.
int. bathroom - day
a hazy shape-- accompanied by a whirring sound.
a steam covered mirror is cleared with a blow dryer. claire
starts to come into focus. the dryer stops. she presses the
red g.f.i. button on the socket. zap! a big blue spark
shoots out. claire pulls her hand back...and the dryer
starts whirring again.
she clears the mirror and replaces the dryer on a hook. she
regards herself in the mirror, and attractive, elegant-
looking woman around forty.
claire traces a finger along a small but noticeable scar
above her left eye, then slowly drops the hand to her cheek,
as if confirming her existence.
int. claire's house - day
claire, now dressed, presses her face against a door,
listening for the sounds of stirring from within. silence.
she quietly pushes open the door.
int. room - day
claire makes her way past half-filled boxes and duffels to a
window, then pulls the curtains to reveal:
a lovely, wooded lake. it couldn't be more picturesque. a
24' sailboat is moored at the dock and an old stone
lighthouse sits on a point across the lake.
the sunlight motivates an unconscious groan from a figure
still shrouded by covers.
claire sits beside the sleeping form. she scans the room
briefly, taking in a greenpeace flag and a picture of a
tomboyish ten year-old girl at camp.
she gently pulls back the covers and peers down at the same
face, now a waifish, pretty seventeen year-old, with chopped
hair and tiny nose ring. claire leans over and inhales the
sleeping scent of her only daughter, caitlin. she places her
hand on a cheek. the girl's eyelids flutter softly.
claire
morning, beauty.
caitlin lets out a grunt and rolls over onto her belly.
claire
let's go. or we'll never leave on time.
from out of the pillow comes caitlin's voice.
caitlin
i'm totally ready.
claire glances around at the piles of unpacked clothes.
claire
come on, i'll make you some waffles,
maybe we'll squeeze in a trip to the
mall.
caitlin...
claire gently swats at the tiny lump that is caitlin's
behind.
caitlin
mother...
claire stands and instinctively scoops up some clothes from
the floor, then folds and neatly stacks them on a box.
caitlin turns her head sideways on the pillow.
caitlin
you're such a morning person.
claire turns at the door.
claire
it is unwise to heckle the keeper of the
plastic.
she starts to leave. caitlin calls out.
caitlin
blueberries!
claire smiles as she closes the door behind her.
int. hallway - day
claire bends down to pick up one of caitlin's socks. when
she stands, something catches her eye out a window. she
gazes down, transfixed.
angle
through a stand of trees over a high wooden fence, a young
couple is in the midst of a heated argument next door.
claire watches as the husband, a large imposing man with an
unruly shock of red hair, snarls at his wife across the hood
of their huge old buick. she tries to get a glimpse of the
woman, but all that's visible is the back of her blond head.
a tan, sinewy arm encircles claire's waist. she lets out a
small gasp as a hand closes on her breast. it's claire's
husband, dr. norman spencer, nibbling gently at her neck.
he's older than she, pushing fifty, with silver streaks
beginning to permeate the shaggy mop of hair that makes him
look more like a preppy rocker or a lacrosse coach than the
prominent academic that he is. claire, however, can't take
her eyes off the scene below.
norman
they at it again?
claire nods.
norman
christ, that's twice in...when did they
move in?
claire
i think three...
norman
three weeks.
she continues to gaze downward. the man leans over the hood,
murmuring darkly at his wife, though for claire and norman
the scene is entirely silent.
claire
what's their name?
norman
feur, i think. psych department. figures.
they're all psychotic.
outside, mr. feur turns and walks toward his house. norman
begins, once again, to nuzzle claire. her eyes close, but
then she gently demurs.
claire
she's awake.
norman
we'll be quiet. quick and quiet.
she turns to him.
claire
i don't want to be either.
he smiles. a really good smile. the lips and tongue on his
faded t-shirt mark him as a 'stones fan.
norman
when's she out of here?
claire
norman spencer.
norman gives up. he busses her cheek.
norman
alright. i can't take the rejection. i'm
going to class.
claire
don't.
norman
claire, i have to show up for the--
claire
it's saturday.
norman stops.
norman
i knew that. you think i didn't know
that?
she smiles at him. after a beat:
norman
it's today?
claire
yep.
they share a warm, poignant look. he turns and moves down
the stairs.
norman
we're going to have to leave by three if
we want to beat the traffic.
claire returns her gaze to the scene below as mr. feur says
something ominous to his wife, then stalks into the house.
norman
claire?
claire
three o'clock.
angle
mrs. feur drops her face into her hands.
ext. sidewalk cafe - day
claire peruses her 'to do' list as caitlin munches a panini.
claire
...and i still think we should get you
some mittens.
caitlin puts down the sandwich and regards her mother warmly.
the bond between them is palpable.
claire
do you have a scarf?
caitlin
hey.
claire looks up from her little pad of paper.
claire
yes?
caitlin
it's only two hours away.
claire
i know that.
caitlin
i'll come back all the time.
claire
of course you will.
caitlin
i'm just saying, you're going to be
fine.
claire smiles.
claire
sweetheart, i've known this day was
coming for a long time. i've got your
father and the garden and the new house.
you really don't have to worry.
caitlin smiles back and nods, her face betraying some
concern. claire takes her hand.
claire
really.
she nods reassuringly and pulls caitlin into an embrace. her
eyes close.
caitlin
mother...
ext. columbia university - day
claire's frozen in the hug.
caitlin
mom.
her eyes open. widen to reveal claire, holding caitlin on
the college campus. the urban skyline looms in the
background.
caitlin
i have'ta go.
after a moment's hesitation, she releases her grip. caitlin
glances over her shoulder to make sure no one's witnessed
this overt display of maternal affection.
caitlin
i'll call you.
claire produces an envelope, which she presses into her
daughter's hand. it's a book of train tickets.
claire
come home anytime.
caitlin loo✍ks at norman.
norman
really gonna leave me, huh?
she nods. they share a tender look.
norman
be good.
she throws her arm, briefly, tightly around his waist. a bit
overwhelmed, he slowly brings his hand to the back of
caitlin's head. after a moment, she steps back...
caitlin
bye.
...then turns and makes her way toward the large, old
columbia dorm. a banner is draped across its portals which
reads:
'welcome class of '04.'
claire watches her daughter melt into a crowd of similarly
shaggy freshmen, smoking and talking on the front steps. her
eyes are shining. norman wraps an arm around her waist as
she daps at a tear with a kleenex.
claire
i almost made it.
they turn and head for the car. claire sneaks one last look
over her shoulder.
angle
caitlin glancing back at claire with an apprehensive smile.
int. norman and claire's room - night
claire walks in from the bathroom wearing a sexy cotton
nightgown. norman is in bed, absorbed in some notes.
she gets into bed, then picks up a thick text from beside him
and starts reading. after a moment:
norman
whatcha reading?
claire
genetic repair mechanisms in eukaryotic
organisms.
norman
how is it?
claire snuggles up.
claire
excellent. couple of swedish sailor cells
just gang divided a virginal cheerleader
cell.
norman
nice.
almost done.
she pulls slightly away.
claire
if you have to work...
norman
no, no. i'm just about...
there.
he places his book on the bedside table and turns to her.
norman
how are you?
claire
fine.
norman
it's okay if you're not.
claire
i am, really.
norman
it's just she's been the focus for a
while.
claire
not the focus.
norman
you know what i mean.
claire thinks for a moment.
claire
to tell you the truth...i'm
excited.
norman
you are...
claire
to get my life back. to have some time
for myself. some time for us.
he caresses her.
norman
you did a great job. she's a good kid.
claire
we did.
there's a weighty pause.
norman
it's just us now.
claire
i know.
he kisses her.
norman
tired?
claire
nope.
norman
wanna fool around?
claire
yup.
they start to kiss. it's slow and a bit methodical in the
manner of long time lovers. suddenly, the sound of a woman
wailing can be heard. they stop.
norman
did you...
claire
shhh.
they listen. the sounds start to become louder. it is
clearly two people in the throes of some very vocal and
savage love making.
norman
jesus.
he walks over and closes the window. it doesn't help.
norman
i guess they're making up.
the woman's moaning becomes embarrassingly loud.
claire
what is he doing to her?
they lie together in silence as the cacophony drones on.
norman
and we moved out here for the quiet.
claire
mmm.
beat. the mood has passed.
norman
maybe we should just...
claire
tomorrow.
norman
i'm finished at three. no. squash with
stan.
claire
after that.
norman
i'll be there.
beat.
norman
love you.
she smiles.
claire
night.
they lie together in the darkness as the feurs finally
climax.
int. caitlin's room - day
claire pushes open the door to caitlin's room carrying an
armful of folded laundry. she moves quickly to the bureau,
not wanting to spend much time in here, then grabs a tiny
black top from the pile, and drops it into a drawer. she's
just about to close it, when something catches her eye.
claire's pov
she drops the laundry and slowly pulls a tattered, old
juilliard t-shirt with a very seventies logo from the drawer.
claire gazes around the room, which is a reliquary of
caitlin's recently concluded childhood; pictures, trophies,
stuffed animals.
she brings the now faded t-shirt to her face and drinks in
the smells. she stares down at the word 'juilliard.'
match cut to:
int. basement - day
'juilliard'...now it's on the same t-shirt only claire's
wearing it and she's much younger. it's an old photograph in
an album. younger norman stands next to her in the shot, his
arm draped around her waist. a cello case stands beside her.
claire glances around at several hastily unpacked boxes and
sees propped in the corner...the cello case. she gazes at
other photos.
-- claire in her wedding dress, norman beside her in a tux
with a very wide bow-tie.
-- claire and norman in front of a university building. a
tiny caitlin rests on her hip.
claire's chin begins to tremble and she chokes out a sob.
ext. front yard - day
her face streaked with tears, claire stumbles out into the
immaculately manicured rose garden.
the yard is surrounded by a high wooden fence. she collapses
into a lawn chair as the tears begin to subside. suddenly,
she hears something coming from next door.
she cocks her head and attempts to make out the sound. it
is, ironically, the sound of a woman crying. claire makes
her way over to the fence. the women's sobbing becomes more
plaintive and fevered.
she places her face against the prickly, vine covered fence
and tries to peer through the crack. all she can make out is
a dark blue blur that seems to be rocking. claire gathers
her nerve and calls out...
claire
hello...
there's no reaction.
claire
mrs. feur?
the sobbing chokes down to a breathless whimpering. the blue
shape vanishes from view.
claire
wait a minute. i just want--
something bumps against the fence. claire draws back. she
hears heavy breathing.
mrs. feur
who are you?
claire
it's mrs...it's claire...spencer. from
next door. is everything--
mrs. feur
you're the flower lady.
claire
um...yes.
mrs. feur
i've seen you. from the window.
claire
is everything alright?
claire leans closer to the tiny crack. she sees a fleshy
blur and what might be part of an eye. there's no response,
just the breathing.
claire
hello?
mrs. feur
i'm not...
she seems on the verge of losing it again.
mrs. feur
he's so...it's too much...and i can't...i
can't breath...
claire
who? your husband?
mrs. feur
and i'm afraid. oh god, i'm so afraid
of...
she trails off.
claire
what? what are you afraid of?
mrs. feur
i can't, no, no, i can't...
claire edges closer to the crack.
claire
tell me. please.
mrs. feur
that i'll just...that one day i'll
just...disappear.
beat. claire's taken aback by this admission.
claire
tell me. i can help you.
mrs. feur
how? how can you help me? with your
flowers and your perfect life...
claire
that's not...it's not like that.
mrs. feur
i've never even met you.
claire
i know. and i'm sorry. i've been consumed
with...my daughter left...for school.
mrs. feur
this fence...it's so...
claire
i'm sorry. it's for the flowers. why
don't you...
tires can be heard crunching the gravel as a car pulls into
the feur's driveway.
mrs. feur
oh god. he's back. i'm sorry. please
forget that i...i don't know what i'm
saying. please...
claire
wait! don't go...
claire listens to the sound of naked footsteps, followed by a
large front door swinging shut. a car door swings open and a
man's shoes follow down the path.
claire pulls back from the crack and leans against the fence
as the door closes a second time. she sits there for a
moment listening, but all is quiet.
claire
she sounded terrified.
int. dining room - night
claire and norman eat dinner. a rainstorm pelts the windows.
norman
of what?
claire
of him i think.
norman
did she say that?
claire
more or less.
norman chews.
norman
honey, they're young. they're probably
newlyweds.
claire
i'm telling you. there was something in
her voice...
norman
remember how we were?
claire
not like this. we were never like this.
i want to go over there. after dinner, we
can--
norman
why?
claire
to make sure she's all right.
norman puts down his fork.
norman
claire, honey, we are not going to march
next door and accuse our new neighbor of--
claire
that's not what i'm sug--
norman
...when tonight they'll probably be
keeping us awake.
claire
but what if something happens?
norman
claire...
claire
i'd never be able to live with mysel--
norman
nothing's going to happen.
besides, i have to work tonight. the
conference is in less than two weeks.
i've got to stay focused on that for just
a little longer.
this is...
claire
i know.
norman
it's what i've been working for.
she glances down at her untouched plate.
claire
i just wish you could have heard her.
norman
look, i'll call harvey tomes in the psych
department, see what i can find out.
claire
promise?
he gives her a 'didn't i just say so' look. she smiles.
claire
i'll make you some coffee.
she reaches for his plate to clear it. norman grabs her hand
and kisses it.
int. norman and claire's room - night
norman snores softly. claire is awakened by the continuing
storm. she pads out to norman's turreted library. rain
pelts the glass. her face is briefly illuminated by the
lighthouse beam.
she hears the sound of a door closing and moves to get a
better view of the feur's. nothing but blackness. just as
she's turning to go back to bed. a lightning flash lights up
the night. claire's eyes go wide.
claire's pov
in the split second of brilliance, she sees mr. feur, in
shirtsleeves, drenched, dragging a large duffel toward the
open trunk of his car.
claire
norman!
he's dead to the world. she calls to him again.
claire
norman, you have to look at this!
norman
mmnph.
claire
hurry...
another flash illuminates...norman at her side.
claire
look!
...an empty driveway, then blackness.
norman
what is it? what's the matter?
she stares down into the darkness.
claire
nothing. there was.ฉ..i thought i saw
something.
norman
is it gone?
the beacon illuminates the empty driveway. she nods.
norman
come on, let's go back to bed.
yet another bolt of lightning reveals claire, still at the
window.
ext. backyard - morning
claire sets up a camera and tripod. she steps back and aims
her camera. she glances up at a large upstairs window at the
feur's house. one side of the curtain seems to be pulled
open, but no one's there.
feeling self-conscious, she turns back to the camera. the
morning sun hits the flowers just right and she snaps several
pictures of them against her lovely house.
she glances back at the feur's window. the curtain is now
closed.
she walks over to the fence and tries to peek through it.
when this doesn't work, she drags a lawn chair over and peers
across the fence. she can barely see over, but glimpses:
a deep furrow in the mud of the driveway. just then, a car
pulls into the driveway, claire scrambles down from her
perch.
ext. driveway - day
claire walks out to find her best friend, jody, pretty, in
her forties, wearing hip, hippie-ish clothes.
claire
hey there.
jody hugs her.
jody
how you holding up?
claire
good. i'm good.
jody
you are?
claire
why does everyone find that so
surprising?
jody
cause...your...only daughter just went
away to school...who you were incredibly
close with aaand i'd be tripping...
claire
okay, i'm a little tender.
jody
well good. so you're human.
claire
and so far my day has consisted of taking
pictures of my roses for the garden club.
jody
wow. got here just in time.
i brought you this.
she proffers several homemade tea bags.
claire
what is it?
jody
kambucha mushroom tea...
claire
jody--
jody
it soothes heart-ache and promotes
psychic wellness. sela suggested i bring--
claire
you're discussing me with your psychic?
jody
she's not a psychic. just a very
enlightened spirit.
claire
thanks, but i'm fine.
jody
so you'll have some later.
notice anything...different?
claire gives her friend the once over, then notices the mint
karman-ghia behind her.
claire
oh my god. you bought it.
jody
yep.
claire
it's niiice.
jody
beautiful thing, alimony. lose a husband,
get a car. think it'll help me pick up
dudes?
claire
absolutely.
jody
listen, i've gotta run. i just thought
i'd stop by and see if you want to take
the boat out, say thursday morning?
claire
you got it.
jody grins.
jody
see you then.
jody drives off. claire walks down the driveway to her front
door and sees mr. feur staring at her from a window. she
starts to wave, but the curtain is drawn shut.
claire arrives at the front door and reaches out to touch the
doorknob. she stops. a faint rustling can be heard from
within. claire quietly opens the door and moves into:
int. foyer - day
claire stops inside the door. now it sounds like whispering.
two voices, tense, impassioned. it seems to be coming from
norman's study. she gathers her nerve, then bursts into the
room.
int. norman's study - day
but the whispering has suddenly stopped.
claire
hello?
the lovely circular room is completely empty. she looks
around, puzzled. cooper, the family's aging lab, casually
ambles over.
claire
please tell me you heard that.
ext. lake - day
claire and cooper, out on a walk, emerge onto large rocks at
the water's edge. claire tosses a long stick for cooper, who
bolts out onto the long wooden dock. claire gazes at the
lighthouse across the lake and a long bridge in the distance.
cooper starts barking and looking down into the water.
claire arrives at cooper's side and stares down into the dark
water.
claire
cooper...what do you see?
she looks down and sees nothing but her own reflection.
after a moment, she notices a faint white shape directly in
the reflection of her face. cooper rumbles a low growl. the
shape seems to be gaining definition.
rrring!
claire gasps quietly, then reaches into a pocket in her
sweater and pulls out a cordless phone.
claire
hi.
norman
i'm stuck here for another couple of
hours.
claire's smile fades.
claire
oh.
norman
unless you need me to come home...
claire
no, no. it's fine.
claire slowly leans out over the water to check her
reflection...
norman
you sure?
...but the shape is gone.
norman
claire?
claire
huh? absolutely. take your time.
she clicks off the phone and looks down at the calm water.
int. work room - night
claire sits in a small workroom at a computer. she focuses
intently on the screen.
angle
it's alice's computer solitaire. she flips the last card and
an animated queen of hearts, accompanied by a series of
musical notes, parades across the screen.
queen of hearts
you lost! off with your head!
claire hits 'new game' and watches as a fresh hand of cyber
solitaire is dealt. she suddenly has a thought and
disappears into the kitchen.
int. kitchen - night
she glances at jody's tea, smiles, then refills her glass of
red wine. she picks up the phone from its cradle and moves
into:
int. living room - night
she dials a number. loud reggae can be heard blaring through
the phone.
claire
hello? i'm looking for caitlin spencer.
she's in 314...well, could you check?
she plugs one ear.
claire
oh. well, just tell her that her mother
called. her mother. thank you. excuse
me, how can you study with that?
the noise abruptly stops. claire clicks off the phone and
replaces it in the sweater pocket. she tunes the stereo to a
classical music station.
int. work room - night
she walks in, places the cordless phone on a base unit, then
hears a different set of musical notes from the computer.
she stares at the screen, stunned.
angle
the game has been finished. cards with faces swarm
chaotically across the screen with the message: you win!
claire
oh. kay.
without warning, the radio dial rips cacophonously past
several stations and comes to a stop on some angry, punkish
rock and roll.
claire
jesus...
she bolts around a corner to the stereo. the music is
chaotic and deafening. she finds cooper growling at...no
one. she turns off the stereo. cooper suddenly bolts down
the hall. she follows him.
int. foyer - night
the foyer's empty, but the front door is open. claire
nervously walks out and looks around.
claire
cooper!
pov - the garden
no sign of the dog.
claire turns to go back inside. when she touches the
doorknob, she hears the whispering again. a fleeting shadow
draws her eye to a coat rack mirror which reflects directly
into the study.
claire
hello...?!
the whispering stops.
int. norman's lab ฆ- night
claire walks in to find norman surrounded by several grad
students. at school he's a very different man; pressed shirt
and tie, hair neatly brushed back. they're preforming some
unseen procedure on a live sheep in a containment harness.
she stops by the door to watch him.
norman
...and then what...courtney?
an intense asian girl answers.
courtney
we administer the halothane.
norman
dosage?
she glances at her notes.
courtney
three point five cc's.
norman
excellent. properties? andrew from
downtown...
andrew, tall razor thin, was waiting for this.
andrew
an organic, neuromuscular blocking agent,
which when administered in aerosol form
temporarily renders the subject immobile.
norman
nothing but net.
he measures out the liquid from a blue plastic bottle into an
apparatus connected to an inhalation mask on the sheep.
norman
prudence here's an old friend.
he moves to the sheep's head and strokes it as he nods to
courtney who turns a valve on the apparatus. the sheep
suddenly goes completely still. norman moves around and
begins a brief procedure.
norman
i try to stay on her good side because i
owe her my career and most of our grant
money. why else?
he completes the procedure. they look at him blankly.
norman
always do unto others as you'd have
others do unto your ewe.
groans, laughter. he stops claire.
norman
that'll do it. write this up for tuesday!
andrew and amy tend to prudence, the rest leave. claire
moves over to him. they kiss. norman packs notes and some
of the chemicals into a leather case.
norman
what are you doing here?
claire
there were some noises. i didn't want to
disturb you.
she watches as the sheep slowly becomes reanimated and is led
out of the room.
norman
what do you mean? some noises where?
claire
in the house. i was scared.
norman
did you call the police?
claire
no. can you drive me home? i'll bring you
back in the morning.
norman
of course.
he takes her arm.
int. the foyer - night
norman pushes open the front door. cooper pads over, wagging
his tail. they walk together past the stereo into...
int. living room - night
...the living room. all is quiet. they move into...
int. norman's study - night
it's undisturbed. norman checks the window locks.
claire
it was there. this angry music all by
itself. and i heard whispering.
norman
what kind of whispering?
claire
i don't know. just...whispering.
he nods as cooper appears.
norman
what'd you see, coop?
the dog stares blankly.
claire
tell him!
norman smiles.
int. bedroom - night
norman sits on the bed and pulls off his shoes.
norman
i'm gonna have the police check on the
house.
claire leans against the window sill.
claire
oh great, 'can you look in on my wife,
she's hearing voices?' wait'll that gets
around.
he walks over to her.
norman
i've got the conference next week. i want
you to feel safe.
claire
i do, i do. i'm sure i'm just...how
was your day?
he goes to his dresser and fishes a little joint from a box
in his dresser.
norman
think i may have cracked it.
claire
really?
she produces a match and lights it. they sit on the bed.
norman
i think so. maybe.
claire
you are so brilliant.
norman
yep.
claire
madame curie, jonas salk, norman
spencer...
norman
you know what that does to me.
she takes a little puff on the joint as he kisses her neck.
norman
ohmigod. you'll never believe...i saw
schumway...
claire
you're kidding.
norman
he's here giving some arcane spiel for
the physics department, so bob shine
introduces us...
claire
wow.
he nods, claire passes the joint back.
norman
and he says...you'll fucking love this,
he says, 'doctor spencer, i am a great
admirer of your work...'
claire
well, that's nice.
norman
'...especially spencer's theorem...'
claire
oh, no...
norman
'...of perpetual distances.'
everybody's checking their shoelaces.
pins drop. 'i'm afraid you've mistaken
me,' i say...
claire
that's...
norman
'...for my father.'
claire
i'm so sorry.
norman
didn't know he was dead, every stinking
paper on the globe.
claire
that's just mean.
oh. jody wanted to know if i could get
her some.
norman
did you tell her?
claire
what? no. no.
norman
you didn't?
claire
norman, you are so funny about that. no,
i didn't.
he takes a little toke, then vanishes into the bathroom.
norman
cause that would be really--
she lays back on the bed. sounds of flushing.
claire
i didn't.
he reappears without the joint.
norman
sorry. you understand.
claire
did you call about the feurs?
norman
oh, right. yes. harvey says the guy's a
sweetheart. wouldn't hurt a fly.
claire
huh.
claire ponders this. norman turns off the light and joins
her on the bed. he kisses her knee.
norman
do the brilliant norman stuff some more.
then starts working his way up her thigh.
norman
and speak up.
claire smiles.
int. living room - afternoon
claire sits frozen, cello between her legs, bow hovering in
position. after an uncomfortable long pause, she touches bow
to string, drawing in a breath at the power of the sound.
claire takes another deep breath, then launches into a
beautiful and melancholy piece of music. she's very, very
good. eyes closed. her body begins to sway slightly as her
left hand vibratos like butterfly wings on the neck.
she reaches a difficult transition and falters. she seems
almost surprised. she attacks the transition again, and
again falters. claหire bites her lower lip and tries yet
again, this time failing completely.
she sits back in the chair, despondent. almost as an
afterthought, she sadly drags the bow across strings. at the
end of the tone, something catches her ear. she can just
make out the hint of a faint feminine voice echoing the tone.
she sits up and plays a different note, then another. each
time the soft mournful voice becomes more distinct. finally
she plays a sharp, higher pitched note. the voice echoes
with a distinct, unsettling shriek.
crash!
int. norman's study - dusk
claire walks in and sees:
insert-- lying on the floor...a framed newspaper photograph
of norman and claire.
the caption announces that he's being promoted to the
'distinguished dupont chair in genetics.' through the
spiderwebbed glass, norman can be seen shaking hands with an
older academic, hugging a smiling claire to his side.
claire kneels down to gather the picture. a single shard of
glass is missing. she finds it a foot away by a distinctive
knot in the wood floor.
she notices a copper glint in the point of glass, but when
she moves it, it's gone. she places the pieces of broken
glass on the frame and stands.
out of the window directly in front of her sees: mr. feur,
removing a dirt covered shovel from his trunk. she glances
down at the picture, then back up at mr. feur, who carries
the shovel around back.
claire
oh no...
claire wraps up the broken picture. she hears a car door
slam and glances out the window in time to see mr. feur
driving off.
ext. garden - day
a stiff autumn breeze. claire stands at the fence.
claire
mrs. feur?
she looks through the tiny crack. nothing.
claire
hello?
are you there?
silence.
ext. the feur's - day
claire glances down as she walks past the furrow. she looks
up at the house, which seems quite placid, then slowly heads
around back.
ext. feur's back porch - day
she takes in the lake view from the large porch. the wind is
really blowing. her eye catches on something. propped
against the back door...
the soil covered shovel
claire takes a pinch of soil from the shovel and tastes it,
then knocks at the back door. there's no answer. she knocks
again. nothing. she's turning to go, then the door swings
open. the smile fades from claire's face.
claire's pov
the immense mr. feur filling the doorway.
mr. feur
yes?
claire
um...
mr. feur
i'm running late here. i just came back
for my briefcase.
claire
right. well, i wanted to stop by to
welcome you to the uh, to the
neighborhood. i'm claire spencer. from
next door.
mr. feur
this really isn't a good time.
he starts to close the door.
claire
well maybe your wife...
mr. feur
she isn't here.
claire
when...when will she be back?
mr. feur
i don't know.
claire
oh-kay...
mr. feur
i have to go.
slam. and claire is staring at a closed door.
jody
what do you mean she's gone?
ext. lake - day
claire and jody knife slowly through the water in the
spencer's sailboat heading back toward the dock, the old
lighthouse, the bride in the background.
claire
she's not there. i haven't seen her since
that morning. well, i mean, i've never
actually seen her, but i'm telling you,
she's disappeared.
jody finishes securing a line. the breeze is mild, so they
just cruise with the wind.
jody
what are you saying?
claire just looks at her.
jody
you think he killed her?
claire
i don't know. when you say it, it sounds
crazy. but what else could it all be?
jody shakes her head.
claire
i mean, he's so kind of grim and
daunting, and she sounded terrified of
something.
claire glances over at jody.
claire
listen to me. i sound like some middle-
aged nancy drew.
jody regards her. after a beat:
jody
know what i think?
claire
what?
jody
seance.
claire
jody, no...
jody
telling you...
claire
...no...no...no...
jody
just bought this beautiful antique ouija.
claire
please. that's all i need.
jody shrugs, 'have it your way.' beat.
jody
hey, look.
claire's house across the lake.
jody
so pretty.
claire's pov
a figure in the turreted window of norman's study.
claire
someone's there.
jody
what?
claire
in the window. norman's at work.
jody
i don't...
claire looks over at jody.
claire
there. in the study. don't you see--
she looks again-- nothing.
claire
wow. i'm losing it.
jody
no, you're not.
but a presence in your house is not
something to be taken lightly.
claire stares back at the house.
int. kitchen - night
claire walks in and sets down some packages. she opens one
and pulls out new toothpaste and...an envelope-- the kind
your pictures come back in. she absently leafs through them,
then freezes. she gapes at one of the shots.
claire
oh boy...
int. upstairs - night
claire turns off the lights and crouches down. she raises a
pair of binoculars.
pov - binoculars
claire rakes the binoculars across the feur's house...past
their car parked in front until she finds a light on
downstairs.
the tall, powerfully built mr. feur walks into the room and
sits by himself at the dining room table, which is set for
one. he eats a tv dinner, slowly chewing and staring
straight ahead. he sips from a can of beer.
just then...a hand grabs claire's arm. she lets out a
screech and turns to see norman standing beside her.
norman
what are you doing?
she glances back out the window and sees mr. feur standing
at the window, paging the curtain. she squats down, pulling
norman with her.
claire
get down! he'll see.
norman
what's going on, claire?
claire
shhhh.
she peers over the sill in time to see mr. feur turning away
from the window. she takes norman by the hand and leads him
downstairs.
int. claire's kitchen - night
she leads norman in.
norman
why am i...
why am i whispering in my own house?
claire turns.
claire
he killed her.
norman
what?
claire
he did. she's in the picture. i went
over to look and she's gone. the table
was set for one.
norman
and that means he murdered his wife?
this is getting ridic--
claire
no, no, no, no. the soil on the shovel,
his shovel...that's clay. it's not from
here, believe me, i...
all right, look at this.
she triumphantly thrusts one before him. norman looks at it.
norman
our house.
claire
no. look! in the window.
the roses. she points out a hazy figure in the turreted
window of the study. norman takes it over to the light.
norman
it's a flare.
claire
a flare?
norman
from the sun. it's a reflection on the
glass.
claire
it's her! i'm telling you. she whispered
and turned on the music. she's trying to
contact me!
norman
it's a ghost.
norman shakes his head. he looks again at the picture, does
a quick calculation.
norman
you took this in the morning, didn't you?
she nods slightly.
norman
when the sun would be exactly right.
she's got him.
claire
then why isn't it in any of the other
pictures?
she thrusts the batch at him. he peruses the other few shots
of the garden.
norman
a cloud passed. or it's a bounce off the
lake. see?
she looks. he might not be wrong.
claire
where is she then?
norman
she could be out. she could be sick in
bed for all we know.
claire
okay. okay. i'll bet there's...look at
this.
she leads him out of the room.
int. work room - night
claire stares at the computer screen triumphantly.
claire
see?
norman
what am i looking at?
claire
i didn't do that.
norman
who did? mrs. feur?
claire
maybe. point is...not me.
norman
right. and why is she here? if he killed
her, why doesn't she haunt him?
claire
she was lonely, i talked to her. norman,
i know how it looks, but--
norman
claire, listen to me. i know you're under
some strain. but there's no such thing as
ghosts. they don't exist. our neighbor
did not kill his wife, and i...wait, why
aren't you dressed?
claire
dressed?
norman
dinner. with stan and his new girl.
claire
when?
norman
what do you mean? claire, we talked about
it. you didn't want japanese, i said, our
first date since...
claire
oh.
norman
...since caitlin. you don't remember
this?
claire
tonight?
norman
yes, tonight. we're going to be--
she looks at his watch.
claire
fashionably five minutes late.
she bolts up the stairs.
int. norman's pickup truck - night
they drive across the bridge.
norman
when you do this, i swear...
claire
...don't get all...
norman
...like it never even happened...
claire
okay, okay, i'm sure that i just...
he pulls out a cell phone and punches in a number.
claire
what are you doing?
norman
restaurant. let them know we're running
late.
claire
five minutes?
the phone flashes...'no service.'
claire
you're not at the center.
norman
i know i'm not at the center of the
bridge.
claire
we're going to be fine.
they near the far side of the bridge. norman looks down at
the cell phone, which now reads, 'roam.' he presses a
button.
norman
there we go.
claire
well, that's a relief.
he shoots her a look.
int. restaurant - night
a cozy, candlelit italian place in town. claire and norman
arrive at the table. stan rises. the chair next to him is
empty. he kisses her cheek.
claire
hi stan. sorry we're late.
it was my fault.
she greets stan, a friendly looking man in his forties.
stan
we just got here.
claire flashes a semi-playful look back at norman.
claire
where's the new squeeze?
a voice speaks out from behind her.
voice
here i am.
claire turns to find a tall, elegant brunette standing behind
her. the woman's face registers some shock.
stan
i'd like you to meet...
claire
elena?
elena
ohmigod...
the two women embrace, then beam at each other.
claire
wow.
elena
this is...
claire
we know each other.
norman
hope so.
later
post meal. several empty wine bottle decorate the table.
elena
we had this finnish conductor, aki, laki,
something. he had these ridiculous bangs.
and he'd sweep them off with his baton
every minute or so, and it drove us
insane, remember?
claire nods.
claire
he looked like one of the monkees.
elena
anyway, claire slept with him...
claire
i didn't sleep with him.
elena
...just so she could cut them off.
claire
he was so pissed.
elena
i came in from my room...
claire
we were suite mates.
elena
and there's this brilliant conductor in
purple briefs with no bangs cursing his
ass off in finnish.
claire
oh god...
they dissolve into giggles. norman and stan smile.
stan
well...
norman
i made an honest woman out of her.
elena puts her hand on claire's.
elena
you should have heard her play.
claire
stop.
elena
we both auditioned for the philharmonic.
one cello position open.
claire
do we have to?
elena
and i kicked ass. ♚ my best stuff. then i
stood in the hallway and listened to her
audition...and i cried.
claire
she's making this up.
elena
i'm not. couldn't pick up my cello for
weeks.
stan
what happened?
elena looks at claire, then smiles.
elena
she got it.
turned it down.
claire
i met a dashing young grad student after a
recital one night...
claire puts her arm around norman.
claire
...and three months later i was married.
he squeezes her hand.
int. work room - day
claire walks into the work room with the portable phone to
her ear and a cup of jody's special tea. she sniffs it and
makes a face as she turns on the computer. after several
rings a girl picks up on the other end.
claire
caitlin?
girl's voice
can you hang up? i'm trying to make a
call.
the line goes dead. claire hits redial and gets...a busy
signal. she clicks the phone off as the computer boots up.
claire puts the phone down and starts a game of alice's
solitaire. she turns a card and waits.
claire
gee, that's tricky. sure could use some
help.
she waits, the cursor blinks benignly.
claire
come on...
nothing happens.
int. norman and claire's room - day
she walks into the room and notices steam wafting from the
cracked bathroom door.
int. bathroom - day
claire enters the steamy bathroom. the tub is nearly
overflowing with water. she squats down to drain the tub.
she stops, feeling watched, then slowly peers behind her...no
one's there. claire reaches toward the water to yank the
plug's chain, then freezes. in the bathwater's still
reflection she see:
a pretty young blond standing beside her. startled, she pops
up and slams into the shower head.
claire collapses over the side of the tub, her head dipping
underwater. a small cloud of red surrounds her. moments
later, an arm wraps around her.
cut to:
blurry shapes.
voice
claire...
int. bathroom - day
claire's pov - a face sharpens into focus hovering above
her...norman.
int. bedroom - day
claire sits on the bed. norman dabs the blood from a tiny
cut on the back of her head.
claire
i don't need a shrink.
norman
harvey says he's amazing.
claire
norman...
norman
what can it hurt to talk to someone?
she goes to her dresser and gets a prescription bottle and
starts to open it. norman gently places a hand on her arm.
norman
please.
she shoots him a look...
norman
you promised.
...and puts the pills down.
norman
claire, she's been a huge part of your
life for seventeen years. if you weren't
thrown off balance by this, then
something would be wrong.
claire
i never said i wasn't upset. of course
i'm upset. i miss her terribly. but i
know what i saw and what i heard...and it
wasn't some 'symptom' of something...
norman
i never said...
claire
...and i don't think i'm some lonely,
middle-aged woman cracking up.
beat.
norman
are you lonely?
claire
no! and i do
