The Slender Thread Page #3

(LOUD LAUGHTER)

Inga,

what's that racket?

What are you doing?

I turned on TV.

Would you say

that's significant,

That the last thing

I'll ever hear

is a laugh track?

Who are the people

who do all the laughing?

Age 30.

Yeah, this one is for real,

Dr. Coburn,

and she's full of pills.

I'm getting nowhere.

I need help.

Previous attempt,

Golden Gardens Beach.

They would have

taken her to

King's County Hospital.

Alan.

Dr. Coburn, please.

She asked you

a question.

Alan.

I don't know, Inga.

I guess it's a job.

Yes, to who am I

speaking, please?

Sergeant Ward,

this is Joe Coburn

at the Crisis Clinic.

Yes, the phone company

told you of our problem?

I wonder how much they

get paid for laughing?

Yes, would you check

your records, please.

Anything on

a suicide attempt,

Golden Gardens Beach?

Woman age 30.

First name Inga.

Married name

unknown.

Husband's first name

Mark.

Mark.

I thank you,

Sergeant.

You know,

Some of those people died

since they recorded

those laughs,

But they go right on

laughing.

Right?

To tell you the truth,

I've never given it

much thought.

Mmm...

Me, neither.

The worst thing

we could do at this point

is bring in a new voice.

My voice.

You want to kill her?

You want that

on my conscience?

This calls for

a psychiatrist.

Not me.

You must be doing

something right.

You've held onto her

since 7:
46.

If I speak to her

on this phone,

she'll hang right up.

Don't be afraid

to talk about her dying.

Right now

her capacity for dying

Is a hell of a lot bigger

than our capacity

for letting her.

That's it.

You're the doctor.

The time is 8:
00 p.m.

This is KOB 385,

KOI 362.

Seattle police.

1-2-7.

Hold the line, please.

OFFICER 1:
1-2-8.

1-2-9.

129 clear.

Would like to have

a copy at...

Okay, 1-2-9.

We have a suspicious

black Ford without

a license plate.

Yeah, I think I saw

that one earlier.

I believe the license

was Adam-Frank-Mary 801.

Will you get me

a make on that?

Adam-Frank-Mary 801.

Pellegrini.

Put Peters on this.

He's just coming

on duty.

Use red light

and siren.

315, are you clear

from that

vandalism call?

OFFICER 2:
315 to radio.

Come in, 315.

Yes, the little boy,

the tricycle,

and the mother

Are all reunited.

All is well.

Received, 315.

You're clear.

Sergeant says

red light and siren.

Right away.

(SIREN WAILING)

OFFICER 3:
324 clear.

What's holding up

that phone trace?

We got the exchange

in three minutes flat,

But the call came

from an outlying

station,

Jackson 9.

A man's

going out now

to check it out.

(TELEPHONE RINGS)

OFFICER 4:
322. We'll be out

of the car a minute.

It'll take an hour

to get an answer from Olympia

on the car license.

Harry, you mind if

I mess around

a little?

That's a patrol

emergency.

It's out of

your jurisdiction.

Give me Maine 2-1454.

I just went

off duty.

I can cruise around

the Jackson area.

And if Peters gets

a make on the car,

who knows?

Hi. Go ahead.

MAN 1:
Which way?

MAN 2:
Directly

in back of you.

What's with him?

All of a sudden,

he's a volunteer.

I don't know. He's fighting

with his old lady again.

He hates to go home.

Yeah. Dr. Coburn,

Sergeant Ward.

Your woman's name

is Inga Dyson.

I've got a man

on the way out there now.

Thank you, Sergeant.

I'm not going

to be able

to tell much

With that racket

going on.

See if you can

get her to turn off

the television set.

Let me have

her respiration

when you get something.

(TELEVISION PLAYS)

ALAN:
Inga,

can you hear me

through that noise?

Yes.

Is there

a remote control

on that TV set?

Yes.

It's getting

harder and harder

to hear you.

Would you mind

turning it off?

Hello, this is Dr. Coburn

at the Crisis Clinic.

Would you please check

your admittance file

on Mrs. Inga Dyson?

Suicide,

approximately 15th May.

That's better.

I'd like to know the name

of the doctor, please.

(AIRPLANE WHOOSHING)

Inga, what was that?

What?

Did I just hear

a plane?

Come on, Alan.

Why can't I reach you?

Hey, don't be upset.

You did fine.

I want it this way.

I just can't imagine it,

though.

My own death, I mean.

Here I am,

feeling numb,

Things getting dark.

And I'm not scared.

That's foolish.

Inga, you are

running out of time.

Now, you can't be

that certain

That this

is what you want.

Aw, don't sermonize,

Alan, please.

That won't help.

It never does.

Mark thought it would, too.

You know where

he took me

Just two days after they

let me out of the hospital?

To church.

I sat there like

a bad little girl

Who had

just been spanked.

With my son

and my husband.

We were the picture

of togetherness.

PASTOR:
Trust in the Lord

with all your heart.

And do not rely upon

your own insight.

In all your ways,

acknowledge him,

And he will make straight

your paths.

It is inviting shipwreck

for life and soul

If we try

to be a ship

Without a pilot.

For Christ

is our pilot ever,

And his words

our compass, too.

The church,

the open harbor

To worship him anew.

(ORGAN PLAYS)

Lord of

the everlasting hymns

Aboard the boundless sea

Will last through

all the shards of pain

To put our trust in Thee

There's punch

and cake inside.

People are asking

about you.

Why did you

bring me here today?

What was supposed

to happen?

This is a place

of faith.

Of hope.

I brought you here

because I thought

it would help.

How?

And which one of us?

Both of us.

Well, did it?

Did it help?

Have you forgiven me,

Mark?

Well, I haven't either.

I haven't forgiven me

for...

12 years.

I know how bad

it is for you.

But, sweetheart,

it's worse for me.

I did it.

Have you any idea

how evil I feel?

How am I going

to stop feeling evil?

Is that

some kind of answer?

You asking me

to feel sorry for you?

It doesn't go

that way.

(SIGHS)

They already passed

the collection plate.

The boys are iced up

and ready to go.

Bad timing, huh?

When are you

coming back?

It's a big ocean.

CHRIS:
Don't you guys

want cake?

As soon as we get

to Cape Addington

And we fish

our limit,

I'll be back.

See you, Inga.

Bye, Dad.

Her respiration's

way down.

Half an hour,

if that long.

Inga?

If you don't tell me

where you are,

You'll be dead

in 30 minutes.

Maybe they're right,

the people who believe

in another world.

Maybe this isn't

the end.

There's always that chance,

isn't there?

It's the end of Inga.

I don't care

what anybody believes.

You believe me now,

right this minute.

Inga, you are something...

All your own,

just like I am.

Something that's never

been on this earth before

In all these

millions of years

And something that will

never be here again.

Well, hooray.

Lady, you are arrogant.

You are...

What am I doing

wasting my...

You gave her to me.

You can't live with yourself

because you made a mistake?

What the hell

gave you the right

to expect you wouldn't?

Oh, boy,

I really needed this.

Who the hell are you,

Miss America?

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