The Best of Subterranean

by William Schafer

  (weakly, to Mandy)

  We—we don’t allow him to look at such things.

  MANDY KEMP

  It was only a magazine. There’s nothing wrong with it.

  ERNEST

  We’ll be the judge of what’s right and wrong for our son. Mary, get the boy dressed. We’re leaving.

  Mary helps Tobey out of bed and gets his clothes.

  MANDY KEMP But—you can’t just walk out. ERNEST Can’t we?

  CUT TO INT.—HOSPITAL CORRIDOR ANGLE PAST MANDY as Tobey skips down the hall between his parents. They hold his hands firmly, and tug him along when he stops to stare at a janitor operating a floor-polisher. As the Rosses wait for the elevator, the young resident comes up to Mandy Kemp.

  RESIDENT Well?

  MANDY KEMP

  You were right. There are some people who have no business being parents.

  The elevator CHIMES as the doors open and passengers spill out.

  RESIDENT

  I feel sorry for the kid. Is there anything we can do?

  MANDY KEMP

  (nodding)

  I’ll have to look into the home situation. These aren’t the dark ages. I expect I’ll be seeing a lot of the Ross family.

  Mary and Tobey enter the elevator. Ernest moves to follow, then pauses, and gives Mandy a long, troubled look.

  CUT TO INT.—ROSS LIVING ROOM

  Mary enters, leading Tobey by the hand. Behind them, Ernest shuts and locks the door.

  MARY

  (relieved)

  See Tobey, we’re home. Everything will be fine now that we’re home. Go play now. Be a good boy and go play.

  TOBEY Play.

  As Tobey runs off to his room, Mary turns to Ernest. She looks scared; he’s grim and exhausted.

  MARY

  (frightened)

  What are we going to do, Ernest? He saw it, I know he did. He was staring at it all the way down the block. What if he brings it?

  ERNEST

  He’s home now. He has his toy book. He’ll forget.

  (beat)

  Mary, it was only a squirrel. It will be dead if he brings it. I’ll bury it with the others. I’ll get rid of it. I always do, don’t I? The barber pole, the slot machine, and all the rest. Remember your heart, dear. Don’t concern yourself.

  MARY

  You know I worry. Ernest, that woman—Miss Kemp—what if she—

  ERNEST

  She won’t bother us. I’ll take care of it, Mary. Please. Wearily, he massages his temples, closes his eyes.

  MARY

  He’s not a bad boy, Ernest. He just doesn’t understand.

  (beat)

  Ernest, I’m so frightened. What will happen to him when—when we’re not here? We can’t let them hurt him. Maybe—maybe that woman is right, maybe—some kind of class, maybe some special kind of teacher—

  CLOSE ON ERNEST His eyes snap open. He looks concerned, alarmed.

  ERNEST Mary—

  BACK TO THE SCENE

  MARY

  Just a little help, that’s all, just for a day or two—or maybe a few hours—That isn’t so wrong of me, is it? To want just a few hours? We could go to dinner together, in some nice restaurant, like we used to do before—before—

  (begins to weep softly)

  —maybe we could see a movie—just the two of us—a movie—how long has it been since we’ve seen a movie—

  Ernest rises, gives her a reassuring hug.

  ERNEST

  (softly)

  I know you’re tired. It would be nice to have someone to share the burden.

  He holds her by the shoulders, looks into her eyes.

  ERNEST

  (continues, resolute)

  But we can’t, Mary. He’s ours, our son, our responsibility. If we leave him alone, even for a few hours, there’s no telling what sorts of things he might see.

  (beat)

  Or what he might bring.

  CUT TO INT.—TOBEY’S ROOM

  We HEAR the muffled sounds of conversation from the next room, but the door is closed, the words indistinct. Tobey sits among his toys. He picks up first one, then another, plays with them in a desultory manner, discards them. He leafs through the pages of his toy catalog, but nothing catches his interest. He’s bored, unhappy. He throws the catalog away, looks around—and then breaks into a happy grin as he remembers something.

  CLOSE ON TOBEY as he closes his eyes, squints, concentrates. Remembering. Visualizing. His big hands ball into fists on his knees.

  TOBEY Bring.

  In his lap, the glossy newsmagazine from the hospital suddenly APPEARS. Tobey giggles, and eagerly begins to turn pages. As he pauses at each new, strange photograph, he makes small noises of surprise and interest.

  TIME CUT TO THE LIVING ROOM—LATER

  Mary lies on the couch, her eyes closed, and Ernest comes through the kitchen door, bearing a tray with teapot, cups, cookies. He sets the tray on the coffee table, bends over, gently shakes his wife’s shoulder.

  ERNEST

  Mary. Wake up, dear. I made you some tea.

  She sits up, gives him a wan smile.

  MARY

  Oh, Ernest, how nice. You didn’t need to do that.

  He smiles, sits, pours. Mary looks around.

  MARY Where’s Tobey?

  ERNEST

  He’s still in his room. Sleeping, or playing. He’s fine, dear. Just have some tea and try not to worry.

  MARY

  You know I can’t help it, dear.

  (stands)

  I’ll just take a peek, make sure he’s all right. Then I’ll be right back.

  Ernest sighs, sips his tea, nods.

  ANGLE ON MARY as she walks down the hall, opens the door to Tobey’s room

  MARY (softly) Tobey?

  Engrossed in some game, Tobey doesn’t answer, but we HEAR a soft giggle, and another sound—a wet, soft SQUISHING. Mary frowns, enters the room. Again we HEAR it: the giggle, the squishing. Tobey is on the far side of the room, down on the floor between the bed and the wall, his back to the door. Mary can only see the back of his head. She begins to walk around the bed. We see that Tobey has something in his hands, some new toy. He’s squeezing it rhythmically, making it squish, and when it squishes he giggles.

  MARY Tobey, what do you—

  When she steps on the open pages of the news magazines, it CRINKLES underfoot and Mary frowns, bends, picks up the magazine. Then her mouth opens in horror.

  MARY No—no—

  CLOSE ON TOBEY as he looks over his shoulder at his mother. His eyes glitter, his smile is wide, innocent, almost sweet—and his cheeks and chin are covered with wet smears of blood. We MOVE IN on Tobey’s face until his eyes and smile fill the screen as Mary SCREAMS.

  BACK TO THE SCENE Mary staggers backward, drops the magazine, clutches her chest. She falls heavily. Her mouth works soundlessly as she tries to say something.

  CLOSE ON MARY’S HAND

  It clenches and unclenches in pain, reaching for something just out of reach. We HEAR her agonized breathing. Then the breathing stops, as does the hand. The camera MOVES OFF her fingertips, to the magazine a few inches away.

  INSERT—THE MAGAZINE opened on a double-page photospread. The title ‘PRIMING THE PUMP— New Findings in Heart Research’ runs over a glossy full-color illustration of a human heart. We HOLD on the photo as Tobey begins to CRY and we HEAR the sound of Ernest’s running feet.

  ERNEST

  (O.S. , horrified) Mary. Oh, God, Mary!

  DISSOLVE TO EXT.—GRAVEYARD—DAY

  The open grave is covered with flowers as a MINISTER delivers a eulogy to a small cluster of mourners, among them Mandy Kemp. Ernest and Tobey stand by the graveside, dressed in their Sunday best. Ernest holds his son by the hand. The ceremony has already gone on too long for Tobey; the boy is bored, looking around curiously. He makes noises, trying to imitate the chirping of nearby birds.

  MINISTER

  —she was a loving wife and a d
evoted mother, a faithful and hard-working woman who bore life’s burdens with courage and good cheer—

  As the minister drones on, Tobey fixes on the ornate statue of an angel atop a nearby gravestone.

  TOBEY Br—

  He’s CUT OFF in midword as Ernest firmly clamps a hand around the boy’s mouth. Tobey squirms and struggles, and the other mourners REACT with shocked glances.

  CLOSE ON MANDY KEMP Who looks disgusted, and determined.

  BACK TO THE SCENE

  MINISTER

  (looks askance, resumes) —taken—ah, taken from us so suddenly—ah— (opens Bible)

  Let us pray.

  DISSOLVE TO INT.—LIVING ROOM—NIGHT—A WEEK LATER

  Ernest sits slumped in his chair while Tobey wrestles with a inflatable cartoon-character punching bag, laughing every time he hits it and the bag pops back up. The clutter has reached vast proportions as a grief-stricken Ernest has let Tobey’s toys pile up. Ernest stares down at a framed photograph in his lap, his eyes full of pain.

  INSERT—THE PHOTOGRAPH A portrait of Mary, much younger, in her wedding gown.

  BACK TO THE SCENE

  The doorbell RINGS. Tobey looks up sharply. Ernest rises, the portrait in hand. He hesitates, looks for a safe place to put it, finally sets it on top of the book cabinet. When he opens the door, Mandy Kemp is outside, her briefcase in hand.

  ERNEST (dully) Miss Kemp.

  MANDY KEMP

  I hope I’m not disturbing you, Mister Ross. I’m very sorry about your wife.

  ERNEST

  (nods)

  Yes. Mary—she was very tired, Miss Kemp. She was never a strong woman, and the stress—

  (beat, moves aside)

  I suppose you’ll want to come in.

  ANGLE ON MANDY as she enters and REACTS to the mess. She smiles, tries to look cheerful, though it’s clear that she’s shocked.

  BACK TO THE SCENE

  MANDY KEMP Hello, Tobey.

  TOBEY (grinning) Tobey!

  Ernest closes the door, crosses the room.

  ERNEST

  You’ve come about Tobey, of course.

  MANDY KEMP

  I don’t mean to intrude on your grief, but you need help more than ever, with your wife gone.

  Mandy opens her briefcase, takes out an illustrated brochure.

  MANDY KEMP

  (continued)

  I brought some literature you might want to take a look at.

  ERNEST

  You want to put him in an institution.

  TOBEY Pictures!

  He reaches for the brochures, but Ernest grabs them first, flips through them, shakes his head.

  ERNEST Very nice.

  He rips the brochures in half, rips the halves in half, rips the quarters in half, lets the torn pieces flutter to the floor. Tobey begins to play with the brightly colored pieces of paper, but none of the photographs are intact.

  ERNEST

  (continued)

  I’m not sending Tobey away. And now, if you’re done, I’m very tired.

  Mandy’s cheerful smile finally dies, giving way to a frown of determination. She’s through playing games.

  MANDY KEMP

  I’m not done, Mister Ross.

  (takes papers from briefcase)

  I’ve done some investigating since the last time we spoke. I’ve talked to your neighbors, your former employer, your wife’s family. Frankly, unless you’re willing to listen to reason, I believe we have grounds to remove Tobey from your custody.

  ERNEST I see.

  MANDY KEMP

  Your treatment of Tobey is frankly appalling, Mister Ross. Almost medieval. According to your neighbors, the boy is a virtual prisoner here. You never take him out, not even for walks. You’ve boarded up the window of his room, you don’t permit him to play with other children. You never take him to the pool, the circus, the zoo. According to your sister-in-law, you don’t even allow him the meagre solace of television.

  Her tone is angry enough to frighten Tobey, who breaks off his play and runs to his father. Ernest puts an arm around him.

  ERNEST No. We don’t.

  (to Tobey) It’s all right. She won’t hurt you.

  MANDY KEMP

  You’ve hurt him enough already, I’d say. I know what you’re afraid of. You’re afraid of what people will say, because you fathered a retarded child. You’re ashamed of Tobey, so you keep him locked up like some kind of animal. Well, I’m not going to permit that to continue.

  CLOSE ON ERNEST His jaw clenches; his patience has finally run out.

  ERNEST

  (with quiet fury)

  Sit down, Miss Kemp. Don’t say another word, just sit down. You want to take Tobey away from me? Then maybe it’s time you knew something about him.

  BACK TO THE SCENE

  She seats herself on the couch. Ernest gently disengages himself from Tobey, walks to the bookcase. He fumbles in his pocket, pulls out a keychain, fits a key into the lock.

  MANDY KEMP What are you doing?

  Ignoring the question, Ernest lifts the covering, studies the spines of his books. Tobey beams at him.

  TOBEY Book. Book book book.

  Ernest pulls out a large illustrated book about knights and chivalry. He closes the bookcase, turns to Mandy. Tobey is beside himself with excitement.

  TOBEY Book! Tobey!

  ERNEST

  The boy loves books. Photo books, comics, magazines, anything with pictures.

  (beat)

  My wife liked to knit. She used to let Tobey help. ‘Bring me the yellow,’ she would tell him, and Tobey would run and get her the yarn. He’d get the colors wrong, but he knew what bring meant.

  MANDY KEMP I don’t see what this—

  ERNEST

  He was five the first time. He found a picture of a ball in this magazine. It had stripes like—like an Easter egg. I remember. He showed it to me. ‘Bring,’ he said. I brought him his own ball, a red and yellow ball I’d bought him, but he just pointed at the magazine and repeated his word. ‘Bring.’ I told him he’d have to play with the one he had, and turned away. He was angry, Miss Kemp. Angry as only a frustrated child can be. I heard him shout. Bring!

  Then it was quiet.

  (beat)

  When I returned, he was playing with his new ball. The ball from the magazine, with its Easter egg stripes. He didn’t even know he’d done anything special.

  (beat)

  So you see, you were right. Tobey can learn all right. (off her skeptical look)

  You don’t believe me, of course. Tobey, come here.

  When the boy approaches, Ernest opens the book.

  ERNEST Look, Tobey.

  CLOSE ON THE BOOK as Ernest points at the picture of an ornate suit of armor.

  ERNEST Bring it, Tobey. Bring it here.

  BACK TO THE SCENE

  Tobey looks up at his father.

  TOBEY Bring?

  Ernest nods gravely.

  ERNEST Go on, Tobey. Bring. Tobey looks down at the picture again, smiling. But Mandy has had enough. She gets to her feet.

  MANDY KEMP

  Mister Ross, I’m trying to talk to you about your son’s future. I don’t know what kind of parlor trick you have in mind, but it’s not going to change anything. Tobey needs a more supportive and stimulating environment, not—

  TOBEY Bring!

  A full-sized suit of armor suddenly APPEARS next to Mandy, overbalances, and FALLS toward her. Startled, she GASPS and recoils. The armor hits the floor with a crash, collapsing into pieces. Reacting, Mandy CATCHES the helmet. She holds it in her hand for a moment, then throws it away as if the metal were red hot. Tobey laughs uproariously. Ernest closes his book.

  MANDY KEMP

  I don’t believe it—this is—some kind of trick—

  (beat, stares at Tobey, then at Ernest) It’s not a trick, is it? It’s real. It’s some kind of—miracle.

  ERNEST

  A miracle? No, Miss Kemp. More like a curse. Lo
ok around you. This is the inside of the nightmare.

  MANDY KEMP

  How can you say that?

  (staring at Tobey)

  He has a gift, a talent that no one else has ever had.

  ERNEST

  He saw a puppy on television one day, before we got rid of the set. He wanted it, so he brought it. It was dead when it arrived. He can’t bring living things. But he forgets. Our back yard is full of the—things I’ve buried there.

  (continues off her shocked look) Do you still want to take him to the zoo, Miss Kemp? Do you still think he needs to play with other children?

  (beat, very hard)

  Most of the time he needs a picture. But sometimes Tobey just remembers.

  Ernest turns away, walks to the bookcase, replaces the book. The social worker follows him.

  MANDY KEMP I—I owe you an apology.

  Ernest nods stiffly, but he does not turn back to face her. He takes down the picture of Mary, looks at it.

  ERNEST

  Tobey was never the prisoner. It was us. Mary and me.

  MANDY KEMP

  Mister Ross, it doesn’t have to be that way. Tobey still needs help. More than ever.

  Ernest turns to face her. The picture is still in his hand.

  ERNEST

  (bitterly)

  You know as well as I what kind of help the world would give Tobey. They’ll lock him up, run their tests and experiments, use him if they could, for whatever they want—Tobey won’t say no. He can’t say no. And when they’re done with him, what will the life of one idiot boy be worth, if they think they can find the secret in his brain?

  (angrily)

  He’s my son, and this is his home.

  MANDY KEMP

  Please listen to me, Mister Ross. The burden, the responsibility—it’s too much for one man alone.

  ERNEST

  I hoped that if I showed you, you’d understand, you’d leave us alone. I can see I was wrong. Get out. I don’t want your help.

  (louder)

  Do you hear me? Leave us alone!

  His hand is trembling. He DROPS the wedding portrait, which falls to the carpet.

  CLOSE ON TOBEY who’s alarmed and a little frightened by the tone of his father’s voice, a tone he’s never heard before. He stares up at Ernest, his mouth hanging open.

  BACK TO THE SCENE

  MANDY KEMP

  Mister Ross, I can’t just walk out and forget what I’ve seen and heard here. I’m going to have to make a report.

  ERNEST