Affliction Page #8

Wade, concerned, pushes open the BEDROOM door:

WADE:

Ma? It's Wade. Can I come in?

He steps inside. On the bed, Sally Whitehouse, wrapped in

blankets, lies dead. He walks over, beside the small electric

heater, touches her forehead. Her skin is chalk white.

WADE:

Oh, Lord.

Margie steps into the doorway. Pop joins:

POP:

Coffee's perked.

MARGIE:

When did she die?

POP:

Is...? She's dead then?

WADE:

Yeah.

POP:

I checked on her. She had the electric

heater. Cold don't bother her as

much as me. Which is why I give her

the heater.

WADE:

(kneels over mother)

Is there something wrong with the

phone?

POP:

In the living room.

WADE:

Why didn't you call and have the

furnace fixed?

POP:

Wade. I thought she was alright.

Till this morning she was.

Pop goes to the dresser, pours himself Canadian Club. Wade

opens his mother's mouth, attempts respiration.

POP:

It makes me sad.

MARGIE:

Can --?

POP:

(sits)

Makes me sad it was her. Instead of

me. I shoulda froze.

CUT TO:

EXT. ROLFE'S CAR - DAY

ROLFE WHITEHOUSE, 38, drives his four-door Toyota west:

through Massachusetts, toward New Hampshire. His face bespeaks

tolerance, objectivity -- in short, education. It's also

Wade's face.

ROLFE (V.O.)

Wade called me, as usual, late at

night. I knew it was Wade -- no one

else calls me at that hour -- and I

was ready to listen to another chapter

in one of his ongoing sagas. There

was the detective story concerning

the shooting of Evan Twombley and

the family melodrama about Wade's

custody fight with Lillian. But not

this time.

CUT TO:

EXT. WHITEHOUSE FARM - DAY

Rolfe's Toyota sits with other cars.

ROLFE (V.O.)

Wade was telling a different story,

or so it seemed then, one in which I

myself was a character. He had called

to tell me that sometime the previous

night our mother had died, and he

had discovered the body when he'd

gone over to visit her and our father

with Margie Fogg. Pop was okay, but

kind of out of it. Worse than usual,

maybe, though no drunker than usual.

CUT TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY

Friends and relatives gather in the living room: Wade, Rolfe,

Glen, LaRiviere, Margie, an aging couple, REVEREND DOUGHTY,

30, thin, wearing glasses and an avocado-green suit.

WADE:

(finishing a beer)

Shouldn't we get this show on the

road, now that Rolfe's here?

No one moves. LaRiviere checks his watch. Wade shrugs:

WADE:

Pointless to stand around in church

with nothing to do, I guess.

ROLFE:

What about Jill? Is Lillian bringing

her?

Margie's face tells Rolfe he's touched on a sensitive subject.

MARGIE:

They'll be at the church and the

cemetery.

Wade opens the frig, takes out another beer:

WADE:

Anyone else want one? Rolfe?

ROLFE:

No thanks. I don't drink.

WADE:

Yeah. I forgot.

LARIVIERE:

How you holding up, Wade?

WADE:

I'm fine, fine.

LARIVIERE:

You Rolfe?

(Rolfe nods)

I remember you from high school.

You're a teacher now? Harvard?

ROLFE:

B.U.

LARIVIERE:

I haven't seen you around. I don't

suppose there's much reason for you

to come this way.

Rev. Doughty calls for Glen Whitehouse, who has been sitting,

silent, drinking, to join the others:

REV. DOUGHTY

Come, Glen, join us. Let's kneel for

a moment of prayer before the service.

Wade? Rolfe?

ROLFE:

Well...

Wade, expressionless, looks at Rolfe. Rolfe, embarrassed,

trying to do the right thing, helps his father kneel beside

Rev. Doughty. The others join the circle.

WADE:

This is nuts.

MARGIE:

(reproving)

Wade.

REV. DOUGHTY

Dear Heavenly Father, Lord of Hosts,

we come to Thee to beseech Thy

blessings and commend to You the

soul of our beloved wife and mother,

Sally Whitehouse, to be one with You

and walk with You --

Pop mutters something. Wade, Rolfe and Marg exchange glances.

He mutters louder:

POP:

...goddamned hair on her head.

He rises over LaRiviere, turns, exclaims:

POP:

Not a one of you is worth a goddamned

hair on that good woman's head!

Doughty freezes.

WADE:

Pop! Don't do this now, Pop.

Pop knocks back a drink as the others stand.

LARIVIERE:

Maybe I'll head on over to the church.

REV. DOUGHTY

This is a difficult time.

Gordon and the couple file out. Doughty, Glen, Rolfe, Wade

and Margie remain.

WADE:

Listen, it's no big deal, Pop.

POP:

(raising fists)

Come on, smart guy. Tell how it's no

big deal. Tell me how a single one

of you is worth a single hair on

that woman's head.

REV. DOUGHTY

Give up this demon.

POP:

Go f*** yourself!

Wade, eyes blazing, squares off. Son to father.

ROLFE:

Wade, just leave it.

POP:

(mocking)

Listen to your little brother. 'Wade,

just leave it.' Candy-asses. All of

you. That's what I've got for

children. Candyasses. 'Wade, just

leave it.' Praise the Lord! 'Just

leave it!'

Wade stiffens. Pop c*cks his fist. Marg, screaming, jumps

between them as Pop swings.

The old man bounces blows off Margie's arms and shoulders.

Wade pushes Marg aside, grabs his father in a bear hug and

walks him backwards, flat against the wall. Wade releases

him. Pop, frail, collapses to the floor. Wade kneels over

him:

WADE:

If you ever touch her again, I'll

kill you. I swear it.

CUT TO:

EXT. CEMETERY - DAY

Townspeople and friends cluster around the gravesite: Pop,

LaRiviere, Jack and Hettie, LaCoy, Chub Merritt, Nick, Jimmy,

Lillian, Jill and Horner, Rolfe, Wade and Margie.

ROLFE (V.O.)

The day of the funeral was almost

springlike. The snowline crossed New

Hampshire west to east, retreating

northward to Concord where it melted

by midmorning.

Rev. Doughty finishes. The mourners exchange farewells. Wade

looks at Lillian. Margie and Rolfe, escorting Wade's father,

let him be. He walks over, hugs Jill.

JILL:

Dad.

WADE:

(to Lillian)

I'm glad you're here. Can you stay

for a while?

Lillian hesitates, shakes her head 'no.'

WADE:

You ever come to your father's grave

anymore?

LILLIAN:

No, not anymore. It's too... it's

too far.

WADE:

We should talk.

LILLIAN:

We've done all our talking, Wade.

WADE:

It's just...

LILLIAN:

Let the past be.

(beat)

I'm sorry about your mother. I liked

her. You never know how much women

like that suffer. It's like they

live their lives with the sound turned

off -- and then they're gone.

JILL:

(tugging at Lillian)

Mom.

LILLIAN:

She has an ice-skating lesson at

four.

JILL:

I'm taking ice-skating, Daddy!

He kisses Jill, says goodbyes, walks back to Rolfe and Margie.

Ahead, LaRiviere walks with Jack.

CUT TO:

EXT. WHITEHOUSE FARM - DAY

Wade and Rolfe leave Margie and Pop in the kitchen as they

step out back.

WADE:

Let's dig out Pop's truck before the

skin of the snow freezes up.

They grab snow shovels propped against the porch, walk to

the barn. Firewood's stacked alongside.

CUT TO:

INT. BARN - DAY

Shafts of light filter through the ramshackle structure. A

snow drift nearly buries Glen's red truck. Wade and Rolfe

break away the packed snow.

ROLFE:

What about Margie?

WADE:

What about her?

ROLFE:

Well, do you still plan to get

married?

WADE:

Yeah. She'll probably quit her job

and stay out here with Pop. We can't

leave him alone here, he'll set the

damn place on fire. With Jill here a

lot, it'll be good to have Margie

around. Things are going to change

in that department, by the way. I

got a custody lawyer in Concord. I'm

gonna see him tomorrow. All hell's

gonna break loose, but it's worth

it.

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