What Lies Beneath Page #18

YOUNG MAN:

They're playing at CBGB's down on

Bowery. Probably won't be back for

awhile. You her mom?

CLAIRE:

Yes. Who was playing?

YOUNG MAN:

B*tch. Caitlin's band.

CLAIRE:

(stunned)

Caitlin's band?

YOUNG MAN:

Yeah. They're really good. I would

have gone, but I have a paper.

(beat)

And I'm not just saying that because

you're a mother.

Claire nods slightly.

CLAIRE:

Thank you.

She walks down the hall.

INT. CBGB'S - NIGHT

Claire moves past a huge, BLACK SKINHEAD DOORMAN into an

entrance area in the dark throbbing punk club.

She looks out over the MOB OF SEETHING YOUNG PEOPLE, swaying

to a pulsing power-pop band. PUNKS and CLUB KIDS push past

her as they move into the throng. She looks up and her face

changes.

CLAIRE'S POV

A shaggy trio of musicians on the stage, pumping through a

jangly, but surprisingly melodic song. Her eyes race across

the faces of a BUTCH FEMALE DRUMMER, an emaciated

GUITARIST/SINGER and stop on the BASS PLAYER... Caitlin. She

rocks back and forth to her own hypnotic bass line, EYES

CLOSED, SWAYING TO THE MUSIC.

Claire is transfixed, her face a mix of pride and sadness.

The song ends and Caitlin's eyes open. She smiles for a

moment, then the smile fades as she spots Claire. Panicked,

Claire ducks behind a pillar.

EXT. CBGB'S - NIGHT

The last groups of YOUNG PEOPLE file out of the club. A couple

of them glance at Claire, who seems very out of place standing

on the Bowery late at night.

VOICE (O.S.)

Mom?

She turns to see Caitlin standing before her, a bass guitar

case on a strap over her shoulder. There's an awkward pause.

CLAIRE:

That was very good.

CAITLIN:

Mom, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell

you. But it never felt right.

CLAIRE:

Why?

Caitlin stares at the ground.

CAITLIN:

I didn't want to bring up memories.

I didn't want to do anything that

might make you regret your choices.

Claire winces silently.

CAITLIN:

Besides, Dad would have freaked.

CLAIRE:

No, he wouldn't.

CAITLIN:

I think playing in a band called

"B*tch" might put a dent in the whole

"perfect family" thing.

CLAIRE:

That's not true.

CAITLIN:

Yes it is. Can we please not do that?

Please? Cause it is.

Claire doesn't disagree.

CLAIRE:

He loves you very much. He just --

CAITLIN:

I know he does.

Beat. Claire studies her surprisingly strong daughter.

CAITLIN:

Are you mad at me?

CLAIRE:

Listen to me. The one thing in life

that I definitely don't regret... is

the choice I made to be your mother.

They hug. For a moment, Claire's got her little girl back.

Her eyes well up.

CLAIRE:

I miss you.

CAITLIN:

So much.

CLAIRE:

(laughing)

It got so bad your father almost had

to put me away.

CAITLIN:

What do you mean?

CLAIRE:

I started seeing things.

CAITLIN:

A ghost?

Beat. Claire stares at her daughter.

CLAIRE:

Did you?

CAITLIN:

No. But once I heard...

CLAIRE:

What?

CAITLIN:

Someone crying. A girl.

(beat)

I thought I was crazy.

CLAIRE:

(quietly)

Then we both are.

Caitlin nods.

INT. PRESIDENT'S HOUSE - NIGHT

...a large cocktail party. The house is crowded with

PROFESSORS, ADMINISTRATORS, and their SPOUSES. PRESIDENT

TEMPLETON, a frosty-haired, avuncular chap, greets them with

his WIFE, a sharp looking woman in her late fifties.

TEMPLETON:

There they are.

NORMAN:

You remember my wife, Claire.

MRS. TEMPLETON

(shaking hands)

Of course. You must be so proud.

CLAIRE:

I am.

MRS. TEMPLETON

(to Norman)

Everyone's very anxious to shake

hands with our newest academic

celebrity.

She takes their coats. Dean Templeton leads them in.

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