Misery Page #3

CUT TO:

ANNIE:
CLOSE UP.

ANNIE:

In the meantime, you've got a lot of

recovering to do, and I consider it

an honor that you'll do it in my home.

HOLD ON HER ECSTATIC FACE. Then --

CUT TO:

MISERY'S PERFECT FACE. We're back in SINDELL's office in New York.

The office looks just the same, posters and manuscripts all over.

But she doesn't.

She holds the phone and she is fidgety, insecure.

SINDELL:

This is Marcia Sindell calling from

New York City. I'd like to speak to

the Silver Creek Chief of Police or

the Sheriff.

MALE VOICE (o-s)

Which one do you want?

SINDELL:

Whichever one's not busy.

CUT TO:

A SMALL OFFICE IN SILVER CREEK

... with a view of the mountains.

A MARVELOUS LOOKING MAN sits at a desk, by himself, holding the

phone. In his sixties, he's still as bright, fast and sassy as he

was half-a-lifetime ago. Never mind what his name is, everyone

calls him BUSTER.

BUSTER:

I'm pretty sure they're both not

busy, Ms. Sindell, since they're

both me. I also happen to be

President of the Policeman's

Benefit Association, Chairman of

the Patrolman's Retirement Fund,

and if you need a good fishing

guide, you could do a lot worse;

call me Buster, everybody does,

what can I do for you?

CUT TO:

SINDELL in her office. She pushes the speakerphone, gets up,

paces; she's very hesitant when she speaks about Paul. Almost

embarrassed --

SINDELL:

I'm a literary agent, and I feel

like a fool calling you, but I

think one of my clients, Paul

Sheldon, might be in some kind of

trouble.

BUSTER:

Paul Sheldon? You mean Paul Sheldon

the writer?

SINDELL:

Yes.

BUSTER:

He's your client, huh?

SINDELL:

Yes, he is.

CUT TO:

BUSTER'S OFFICE

He rolls a penny acrossthe back of one hand -- he's very good at

it, doesn't even look while he does it.

BUSTER:

People sure like those Misery books.

SINDELL:

I'm sure you know Paul's been going

to the Silver Creek Lodge for years

to finish his books.

BUSTER:

Yeah, I understand he's been up here

the last six weeks.

SINDELL:

Not quite. I just called, and they

said he checked out five days ago.

Isn't that a little strange?

BUSTER:

I don't know. Does he always phone

you when he checks out of hotels?

CUT TO:

SINDELL, really embarrassed now.

SINDELL:

No, no, of course not. It's just

that his daughter hasn't heard

from him, and when he's got a book

coming out, he usually keeps in

touch. So when there was no word

from him...

BUSTER:

You think he might be missing?

SINDELL:

(shakes her head)

I hate that I made this call -- tell

me I'm being silly.

CUT TO:

BUSTER. He nods as a WOMAN enters, carrying lunch. It's his wife,

VIRGINIA. She begins putting the food down on a table for the both

of them.

BUSTER:

Just a little over-protective,

maybe.

(beat)

Tell you what -- nothing's been

reported out here --

(he puts Paul Sheldon's

name with a ? on a 3 x 5

card)

-- but I'll put his name through

our system.

(he tacks the card to a

bulletin board)

And if anything turns up, I'll call

you right away.

CUT TO:

SINDELL. She smiles, a genuine sense of relief.

SINDELL:

I appreciate that. Thanks a lot.

CUT TO:

BUSTER.

BUSTER:

G'bye, Ms. Sindell.

As he hangs up --

VIRGINIA:

We actually got a phone call. Busy

morning.

BUSTER:

(smiles)

Work, work, work.

(gives her a hug)

Virginia? When was that blizzard?

VIRGINIA:

Four or five days ago. Why?

CUT TO:

BUSTER. The penny flies across the back of his hand. He doesn't

look at it, stares instead out the window at the mountains.

BUSTER:

(a beat)

...no reason...

HOLD ON BUSTER for a moment.

CUT TO:

PAUL'S ROOM.

PAUL'S VOICE

(soft)

I guess it was kind of a miracle...

you finding me...

ANNIE's soft, sweet laughter is heard. She stands over him,

finishing shaving him with a very sharp straight razor. She wears

what we will come to know as her regular costume -- plain wool

skirts, grey cardigan sweaters.

ANNIE:

No, it wasn't a miracle at all...

in a way, I was following you.

PAUL:

Following me?

ANNIE concentrates on shaving him with great care; she has

wonderful, strong hands.

ANNIE:

(explaining, normally)

Well, it wasn't any secret to me that

you were staying at the Silver Creek,

seeing as how I'm your number-one fan

and all. Some nights I'd just tool on

down there, sit outside and look up at

the light in your cabin --

(gently moves his head back,

exposing his neck; this next

is said with total sincerity,

almost awe)

and I'd try to imagine what was going

on in the room of the world's greatest

writer.

PAUL:

Say that last part again, I didn't

quite hear-

ANNIE:

(smiles)

Don't move now -- wouldn't want to hurt

this neck --

(shaving away)

Well, the other afternoon I was on my

way home, and there you were, leaving

the Lodge, and I wondered why a literary

genius would go for a drive when there

was a big storm coming.

PAUL:

I didn't know it was going to be a big

storm.

ANNIE:

Lucky for you, I did.

(pauses)

Lucky for me too. Because now you're

alive and you can write more books.

Oh, Paul, I've read everything of

yours, but the Misery novels...

CUT TO:

ANNIE:
CLOSE UP

ANNIE:

I know them all by heart, Paul, all

eight of them. I love them so.

CUT TO:

PAUL, looking at her. There's something terribly touching about

her now.

PAUL:

You're very kind...

ANNIE:

And you're very brilliant, and you

must be a good man, or you could

never have created such a wondrous,

loving creature as Misery Chastain.

(runs her fingers over

his cheek)

Like a baby.

(smiles)

All done.

(starts to dab away the

last bits of soap)

ANNIE starts cleaning up.

PAUL:

When do you think the phone lines'll

be back up? I have to call my daughter,

and I should call New York and let my

agent know I'm breathing.

ANNIE:

It shouldn't be too much longer.

(gently)

Once the roads are open, the lines'll

be up in no time. If you give me their

numbers, I'll keep trying them for you.

(suddenly almost

embarrassed)

Could I ask you a favor?

(Paul nods)

I noticed in your case there was a new

Paul Sheldon book and...

(hesitant)

and I wondered if maybe...

(her voice trails off)

PAUL:

You want to read it?

ANNIE:

(quietly)

If you wouldn't mind.

PAUL:

I have a hard and fast rule about who

can read my stuff at this early stage --

only my editor, my agent, and anyone

who saves me from freezing to death in

a car wreck.

ANNIE:

(genuinely thrilled)

You'll never realize what a rare treat

you've given me.

CUT TO:

PAUL. His eyes close briefly, he grimaces.

CUT TO:

ANNIE, watching him, concerned. She glances at her watch.

ANNIE:

Boy, it's like clockwork, the way

your pain comes -- I'll get you your

Novril, Paul. Forgive me for

prattling away and making you feel

all oogy.

She turns and goes out of the room.

CUT TO:

PAUL, watching her.

ANNIE (o-s)

What's your new book called?

PAUL:

I don't have a title yet.

ANNIE (o-s)

What's it about?

PAUL:

(fast)

It's crazy, but I don't really know,

I mean I haven't written anything but

"Misery" for so long that -- you read

it you can tell me what you think it's

about. Maybe you can come up with a

title.

Rate this script:3.0 / 4 votes