Affliction Page #5

WADE:

(soft)

Nothing.

POP:

You no-good pup!

Rolfe runs from the room screaming, "Mom!"

CUT TO:

EXT. WICKHAM'S - DAY

The town's 24-hour restaurant. A bright new sign reads: "Home

Made Cooking." Wade's grader out front.

CUT TO:

INT. WICKHAM'S - DAY

Wade, eating lunch at the counter, talks with Nick Wickham:

WADE:

It don't look right.

NICK:

What?

WADE:

The sign. It looks like it's spelled

wrong or something.

NICK:

F***. Wade Whitehouse. It's people

like you that keep this f***ing town

from prospering. Whatever somebody

does to improve things around here,

you gotta find fault with it.

WADE:

I'm not finding fault. It's a good

idea, good for you, good for the

town. Real modern too.

NICK:

This town sucks.

WADE:

Aw, c'mon, I was only saying there's

something wrong with "Home Made

Cooking", that's all. The sign's

fine. What it says is wrong.

Margie Fogg heads over, sits:

MARGIE:

Who needs it? Everybody who comes

here has been coming for years so

what they need a sign for?

Nick goes back to work.

MARGIE:

You okay?

WADE:

Yeah.

MARGIE:

I'm sorry about what I said.

WADE:

Said what?

MARGIE:

About you and Jill and needing a

third person. She went back to

Lillian?

WADE:

Forget it.

MARGIE:

(touches his arm)

I'm sorry.

WADE:

I'm going to start one of those

custody suits. I don't give a f***ing

sh*t. You know?

Wade's eyes well up.

MARGIE:

You don't mean that.

WADE:

Yeah. I mean that.

MARGIE:

(arm around his

shoulders)

No you don't. You're pissed, that's

all. You ought to cool off for a few

days then have a long talk with

Lillian. You know? Work it out with

her, tell her how you feel. Lillian's

not out to get you.

WADE:

The hell she isn't. Lillian's been

trying to nail me to a cross since

the day I met her. I'm gonna hire me

a f***ing lawyer from Concord and

get this thing, this divorce thing,

rearranged. I've been thinking about

it a lot. It's like she owns Jill or

something. Nobody owns nobody,

especially not kids. And I pay her.

NICK:

(calls)

Marg!

WADE:

That goddamned woman. Thinks she can

cart Jill off and leave me alone

like this. I'm more than pissed,

Margie. I'm a whole lot more than

pissed. I been that plenty and I

know the difference. This is

different.

NICK:

Marg! You got orders!

Wade and Margie stand. She wants to kiss him.

MARGIE:

Call me.

WADE:

(genuine)

Tonight. Let's get together.

MARGIE:

Okay.

Wade meets Nick halfway to the door.

NICK:

You talked to Jack?

WADE:

Not since last night. He took a guy

hunting.

NICK:

The f***er shot himself. Ker-bang!

That's what it sounds like. Not on

purpose. I assume accidental.

WADE:

(shocked)

Jack?

NICK:

The other guy.

WADE:

Where... how'd you hear that?

NICK:

CB. Little while ago. One of the

boys on the way in picked up Jack on

the CB calling for state troopers. I

figured you'd know what really

happened. The f***ing guy kill

himself? This Twombley, who the f***

is he, anyhow?

WADE:

No, I... I've been out on the grader

all morning. Twombley's summer people.

Massachusetts. Friend of Gordon's.

It was his idea for Jack to take him

hunting.

(suddenly engaged)

I gotta go.

Margie steps over as Wade exits.

NICK:

He don't care for you.

MARGIE:

Stop being jealous.

CUT TO:

EXT. LARIVIERE CO. - DAY

Elaine looks up from her desk as Wade pulls the grader into

the lot, jumps out, heads for his car. Laviviere stands

outside.

LARIVIERE:

What's the hurry?

WADE:

A hunting accident. Jack and Twombley.

LARIVIERE:

Huh?

WADE:

I figured you already heard.

LARIVIERE:

(urgent)

Twombley, Jesus. We got to get moving:

I got to get up there. How would I

know? C'mon, you drive. We'll take

my truck.

They head for LaRiviere's blue 4x4 Dodge.

CUT TO:

INT./EXT. LARIVIERE'S PICKUP - DAY

Gordon and Wade drive up the same road Jack took Twombley.

Wade fiddles with the CB. No use: static.

LARIVIERE:

F***. Turn it off.

(Wade does)

All you heard was there was some

kinda accident?

WADE:

Twombley's shot. I heard that. Not

Jack. He's okay, I assume.

LARIVIERE:

F***. You don't know how bad or

anything?

WADE:

You mean Twombley?

LARIVIERE:

Yes, Wade, I mean Twombley. Put out

that cigarette. F***. F***. F***.

LaRiviere grunts disapproval as Wade slips the butt out his

window.

WADE:

He more than likely just shot himself

in the foot or something. That's

what usually happens.

LARIVIERE:

I shoulda sent you instead of Jack.

WADE:

I wish you had. I'd rather be deer

hunting instead of freezing my ass

on that f***ing grader.

LARIVIERE:

You ain't the hunter Jack is. And he

can't drive the grader worth sh*t.

WADE:

Like hell.

Ahead, they see flashing lights and cars. A white emergency

vehicle passes, jolting the pickup.

LARIVIERE:

(frightened)

That must've been Twombley. Jesus. I

bet that was Twombley.

WADE:

You want me to follow them to

Littleton?

LARIVIERE:

Let's get to the top and talk to

Jack first. He'll know what happened.

He f***ing better. If this coulda

been avoided, I'll put that kid's

ass in a sling.

CUT TO:

EXT. ACCIDENT SCENE - DAY

Wade pulls behind three state trooper cars. Jack stands joking

with the TROOPERS, one of whom holds a German shepherd on a

leash. LaRiviere and Wade jump out. Jack, suddenly serious,

turns to LaRiviere:

JACK:

You heard the news.

LARIVIERE:

I hear Twombley got shot.

JACK:

Yeah.

Wade walks over to trooper ASA BROWN, pets the shepherd.

BROWN:

Watch the dog, Wade. Takes a mind

to, he'll tear your f***ing head

off.

LARIVIERE:

(to Jack)

Bad?

BROWN:

Thirty-thirty at close range.

LARIVIERE:

Jesus.

WADE:

Will he make it?

BROWN:

(shakes head)

D.O.A. Blew the bastard wide open.

Had a hole in back you could put

your head into. Pretty big hole in

front too. You could've put your

fist into that one.

LARIVIERE:

(to Jack)

You see it?

JACK:

Nope. Heard it. We wasn't far apart.

I spotted this buck, then I heard

the gun go off and Twombley was gone.

I looked over the little cliff we

was using for a stand and there the

f***er was, deader'n sh*t. Called it

right in.

LARIVIERE:

This is gonna be one f***ing mess to

clean up. Twombley's son-in-law and

daughter are up the weekend. Didn't

you say you'd seen him, Wade?

WADE:

I seen 'em. Near ran me over.

BROWN:

You wanna tell 'em, Gordon? You knew

the old man.

LARIVIERE:

What the f***. My day's already

ruined.

(to Wade)

Give me the keys. You can go back

with Jack. You still got a shitload

of plowing to do.

WADE:

It ain't done, if that's what you

mean.

LARIVIERE:

Something bugging you?

WADE:

Yeah. A few things.

LARIVIERE:

Well, right now we're not too

interested. Finish up what you gotta

do, then you can get bugged on your

own time.

Brown walks off with shepherd.

LARIVIERE:

(to Jack)

Might as well take the rest of the

day off. You look sort of f***ed up.

You've been paid for the day, anyhow,

right?

JACK:

Not exactly. I mean, he never paid

me.

LARIVIERE:

You'll get your money. Don't talk to

any newspapers about this. Twombley's

a big deal down in Massachusetts,

you know. Tell them your lawyer says

you shouldn't comment.

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