Weird Woman Page #3

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So, it's Norman now.

Oh, I...

Margaret, I've made

the final changes.

This is the way it goes to the

digest, for better or for worse.

Oh, it'll be for better. It's the

best of its kind they'll ever get.

You know, I think I'll

make you my press agent.

What are you hugging your

cheek for? Wonder Boy kiss you?

David Jennings, how dare you. It

wouldn't surprise me in the least.

I know these educated wolves.

Miss Carr said you'd probably

be falling for him before...

I'm not interested in what

that jealous old cat has to say.

And you can get out, too.

Now, go on!

Gee, Maggie, I'm sorry.

Oh, all right, so you're sorry. Now,

scram, will you? I've got work to do.

I hardly know how to begin,

Dr. Sawtelle.

You said, something important.

Indeed, it is.

You remember a student you had

named Gregory Towne?

The one who died in midterm?

It's been years.

Towne, yes. Gregory Towne.

His thesis was

brilliant, wasn't it? Yes.

But never published.

No, never published. Never...

Never published.

You read... You know?

It isn't what I read or know.

Norman Reed has called

for the thesis.

He found out we had a copy

in the library.

Reed? He knows

that I used the thesis...

As a basis for your book.

Now, I don't know how much he knows,

but he's definitely suspicious.

I only wanted to warn you and to tell you

that I'll try to keep it out of his hands

if I possibly can,

but unfortunately,

there may be other copies.

I didn't want to write a book.

I didn't want to. I couldn't.

But Evelyn, she pushed me

and pushed me.

She's ambitious.

And you remembered this

and used it as a reference.

As a reference, yes, as

a reference. Naturally.

It's just a pity that Norman

Reed had to remember it, too.

You didn't tell? I mean Evelyn,

she doesn't know about this?

Of course not. I only wanted

to put you on your guard.

What shall I do?

Well, what he's after,

of course,

is to get you to withdraw as a candidate

from the sociology chairmanship.

I'm afraid he might

use this as a club.

Oh, Evelyn wouldn't let me.

If I tried to, she'd find out

about this. I'll be disgraced.

Every college

will hear about it.

And Evelyn, she'll despise me.

I know. It's enough

to drive a man

to desperation,

to take any way out.

Norman, no! The turban

of a high priestess.

Sticks! Stones! Jungle gods!

You don't know what you're doing! I do!

Norman, no!

No!

Is this everything?

Everything.

You got that little silver

hand from the car cushions.

I can't think of any others.

Do you realize that you've been

turning the hands of the clock

back to the Dark Ages?

Norman, some things don't

belong to any special age.

They're a part of everything

and of all time.

Forces for good

and forces for evil.

I did nothing to hurt anyone,

only to help you and protect you.

Protect me from what?

You were in terrible danger.

Ilona Carr is your enemy.

I know it.

I had to build a wall of

safety between you and her.

Yes, I saw it.

Graveyard dirt around her and

nails pointing toward her heart.

Oh, but only

if she tried to hurt you.

I haven't wanted to harm anyone, Norman,

only bring you the success you deserved.

And you saw how it worked.

The book, the prize,

and they've practically decided on

the sociology chairmanship for you.

Did it ever dawn on you that

perhaps I had earned my success?

Oh, yes, yes.

But we have enemies,

and they would have kept you

from what you've earned.

Paula, I'm a man of reason,

or I'm nothing.

What of my life's work

if I allow myself or you

to be enslaved

by superstition?

It isn't superstition.

Laraua says...

Laraua, yes,

the High Priestess

of Kahuna Ana Ana.

You lived with her too long.

Now you're my wife.

You must trust me.

Paula,

I'm going to burn

these things.

That, too.

Come on, now.

Norman, don't despise me.

Despise you!

Not long ago I wrote that,

"Man's struggle upward

from his dark past

"was the struggle of reason

against superstition. "

And now here in my own home,

my own wife.

Poor, frightened,

strange little child.

Norman!

Evelyn, what happened?

Murderer!

Murderer!

Murderer! Murderer!

Murderer! Murderer!

Fine funeral.

Yes, it was.

I never saw Millard

look better.

First time the poor little guy

didn't shrink from the public gaze.

Too bad he didn't see that snazzy little

suit you bought in his honor, Ilona.

Nothing is sacred to you, is it,

Grace? You might think of poor Evelyn.

Poor Evelyn drove him bats. He

was all right till she married him

and tried to make him

swim out of his depth.

She kept saying we

killed him, Norman and I.

She was hysterical, I suppose.

I wonder what gave her the idea

that I was responsible for his death?

Sounds as though he'd been

bewitched, doesn't it, Paula?

Where's your medallion? I've

never seen you without it before.

Ilona, there's something

about your smile right now

that makes me think

of Jack the Ripper.

Honestly, Grace!

Norman, I'm frightened.

You don't know what you did

when you burned everything.

You left us

at the mercy of evils.

Paula, you've got to stop it.

You must break free

of these jungle superstitions.

I saw the medallion

crack in the flames.

The circle of immunity

was broken.

The next moment,

I heard the shots.

Coincidence.

What was that?

Oh, nothing. I...

I think we'd better be going.

I have to work tonight.

Hello.

Oh, hello, Miss Carr.

I...

I kind of thought I might find

Margaret here. She wasn't at the dorm.

Well, why don't you try

Professor Reed's office?

I know he's working tonight.

Gee, you'd think that guy

was afraid of sunstroke

the way he works

after it gets dark.

Why, David, didn't you know that the

night is the special domain of great minds?

History is made at night, they

say. Poetry is born at night.

Well, can't history and poetry

be born in the daytime, too?

Well, don't stand there

shouting at me, Sir Galahad.

If you don't like it, why

don't you do something about it?

Well, I will!

Men have created words,

words to explain everything

they cannot understand.

Words like "coincidence"

to conceal their fears.

Oh, I'm sorry, Professor.

Would you repeat

that last, please?

To conceal their fears.

No, I don't want to say that.

What do I want to say?

I told Paula

that she must free herself

from those jungle

superstitions.

What of myself?

Coincidence.

Why did I say that word?

Am I afraid?

Am I beginning to doubt

my own reason and logic?

Black magic.

Island witchcraft.

Voodoo rituals and nonsense.

Proven nonsense.

Don't try to work anymore.

I know you're upset over what

happened to Professor Sawtelle.

Yes, I suppose so.

All those things they're saying

about you, they're all lies.

What things?

Well, that you had something to

do with Professor Sawtelle's death.

But whatever anyone else says,

I believe in you.

Well, thank you.

I was so thrilled when you

asked me to come to work tonight.

When I knew you chose to be

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