Chappaquiddick Page #11

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INT. OLDSMOBILE - UNDERWATER - NIGHT

Mary Jo leans back to get her mouth fully into the air pocketabove her. The gap between the water level and the car hasnarrowed considerably.

INTERCUT:

-IN THE BATHROOM, TED brushes his teeth with great care.

-MARY JO slips from her perch. She strains just to keep her

mouth above water.

-IN TED’S ROOM, he folds clothes with meticulous precision.

- MARY JO’s breath quickens, unable to get enough oxygen to

last more than a moment.

-TED buttons up the last button of his silk pajamas.

- MARY JO pushes herself up toward the floorboard as the

water rises slightly.

-IN BED, Ted crawls under the covers and turns off the lamp.

The phone right in front of his face.

- MARY JO faces upward coughing as water starts to fill the

last remaining pocket of air.

-TED sleeps peacefully.

53.

EXT. POUCHA POND - DAWN

The sun makes its earliest peak above the horizon. DikeBridge remains covered in nightshade.

INT. OLDSMOBILE - UNDERWATER - DAWN

Mary Jo makes incredibly quick, strained wheezing noises inthe smallest air pocket yet. Less than an inch of spaceexists between the floorboard and the water. Her purple lipspress against the fabric.

Mary Jo moans as she struggles to pull air into her lungs.

Her eyes grow wide, a disturbing bloodshot red.

The car goes silent. Still.

Dark.

Mary Jo is dead.

MATCH CUT TO:

INT. OLDSMOBILE - UNDERWATER- DAY

Sun shines brightly in from the windshield revealing for thefirst time a full view of Mary Jo’s body, bathed inchiaroscuro light.

Rigor mortis has set in; she remains in the same contortedposition as when she gasped her last breath.

Her hair drifts in front of her face as the rest of the scene

remains still.

EXT. POUCHA POND - DAY

A blue Ford station wagon sits parked on the man-madepeninsula across Dike Bridge. Nearby, MR. SAMUEL, mid 40s,

and his son, DONNIE, 8, dangle their legs off the side of thebridge, fishing rods in hand.

Mr. Samuel looks over at his son beaming with pride. Donnieturns to his dad with a smile, but a glint of light hits himright in the eye.

Donnie turns to the light reflection behind him. He stands upand walks over to investigate.

He looks deep into Poucha Pond but still only sees a shadowy,

dark shape with a light reflecting off the metallic surface.

DONNIE:

Dad! Come look!

54.

Mr. Samuel strolls up and leans over to see.

The visage of the submerged Oldsmobile becomes immediatelyclear to him.

He jolts up. Deep concern in his face.

In one continuous take, he runs down the bridge. Pumping hisarms to gain speed as he goes up the road to Dike House. Hearrives out of breath at the “WELCOME” mat. Desperate knocks

at the door.

MR. SAMUEL

There's been an accident off the

bridge. I need to call the police,

right away.

As the door opens, the amber porch light turns off.

INT. SHIRETOWN INN - PATIO - DAY

At this early hour, the Shiretown Inn patio has few patrons.

Fine linens and place settings surround Ted as busboysprepare for the most elegant brunch in Martha's Vineyard.

Ted leans back into his chair. He flaps the sides of his New

York Times and puts his feet up on the table.

The date reads:
"SATURDAY, JULY 19TH, 1969".

The front page headlines read:

-"NIXON PROPOSES U.S. AID IN BIRTH CONTROL"

-"MOSCOW SAYS THAT LUNA 15 WON'T BE IN APOLLO'S WAY"

EXT. DIKE BRIDGE - DAY

Overlooking the submerged wreckage, the father and son leanover Dike Bridge joined by a few other locals. Behind them, apolice cruiser door pops open.

Chief Arena walks up and looks out over the water.

CHIEF ARENA:

So, that's the car there?

MR. SAMUEL

Yeah.

CHIEF ARENA:

Someone ought to go down there.

Survey the damage.

The locals shoot Arena incredulous looks.

55.

CHIEF ARENA (CONT’D)

Well...does anyone have a bathing

suit I can borrow?

EXT. SHIRETOWN INN - DAY

Ted enters the phone booth outside the hotel. The streetbustles with locals and seaside tourists. He shuts the door.

Ted pulls out a pocket-sized address book. He flips past thewell-worn leather cover and straight to the middle. He scanshis finger across a couple of names. Each name has anaccompanying descriptor.

His finger taps on the desired entry:

"Ted Sorensen - Speechwriter, lawyer - ‘My intellectual bloodbank’ - Jack"

Ted drops a dime and dials. The phone rings. His eyes dartback and forth at the many passersby.

RING.

One of the tourists makes eye contact with Ted.

RING.

The tourist grabs his wife and points in Ted's direction.

They smile and wave with excitement at this chance encounterwith a public figure.

Ted tightens his grip on the phone and grits his teeth.

SORENSEN (V.O.)

This is Ted Sorensen.

TED:

It’s Teddy. I've got a problem. Itneeds someone with your legal andpublic relation skills.

Commotion can be heard on the other end of the line.

TED (CONT’D)

Are you alone?

INT. TED SORENSEN'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY

TED SORENSEN, 41, a sophisticated, intellectual man out ofhis element over a stove, wrapped in a phone cord. His THREE

RAMBUNCTIOUS SONS wait impatiently for their breakfast.

56.

SORENSEN:

I've got the boys this weekend, butI can talk.

TED (V.O.)

Okay, that’ll do.

EXT. SHIRETOWN INN - DAY

Small beads of sweat have formed at Ted's brow. He cranes his

neck to make sure no one stands too close.

TED:

You’re the first person I’m

telling. I’m not sure if the

authorities know yet -

INT. LAWRENCE COTTAGE - LIVING ROOM - DAY

Sunlight beams pierce through a crack in the curtains,

illuminating a littered room filled with empty beer bottles.

Gargan sleeps, passed out with his face pressed against thefloor. Above him, Markham lays sprawled out fully dressed onthe couch.

SIREN.

Gargan jolts up. Markham snores as Gargan stumbles over tothe window and pulls open the curtain.

A small fire engine tears out of the volunteer fire houseacross the street and races past the cottage.

Gargan looks at his watch.

GARGAN:

Sh*t.

EXT. DIKE BRIDGE - DAY

Chief Arena sits on the edge of the bumper in a dark-plaidswimsuit and a diver's mask, stripped of whatever dignity hisuniform offered him.

Squad cars and the fire engine move through the growingcrowd. Near the shore, Sheriff Look stands holding the radioout the window of his cruiser.

SHERIFF LOOK:

Dive team’s here, Chief.

Arena spins around to see JOHN FARRAR, mid-30s, a solitaryathletic man in full scuba gear, stepping off the fire engine.

57.

ARENA:

“Team” implies more than one

person, Deputy.

Farrar pulls the scuba cap over his head and shouts back.

FARRAR:

Don’t you worry. If there's anyonedown there, I'll have 'em up in tenminutes.

He pulls down his mask and jumps in. From above the bridge,

onlookers watch as he enters the car through the driver’sside window.

The chief looks around, feeling useless. He barks out to hissquad car.

CHIEF ARENA:

What's taking so long to find outwhose damn car this is?!

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