Dreamsongs. Volume II
Page 12
CLOSE ON MEGAN
staring out the car window, she SEES the Vet, follows him with her eyes until they turn a corner.
TIME CUT TO
EXT.—MCDOWELL HOUSE—EVENING
Denise pulls up and parks the Volvo in the driveway, behind Jeff’s modest Datsun. The house is a two-story suburban tract home; pleasant, respectable, in a decent neighborhood, but nothing too large or expensive. A comfortable middle-class sort of house.
CUT TO
INT.—KITCHEN
Denise & Megan enter, to find Jeff tossing a salad. A small TV set sits on the counter, and Jeff watches the news from the corner of his eye. The newscaster is reading a story about El Salvador. An open bottle of wine and half-empty glass are close at hand. Jeff turns when they enter.
JEFF
Roast beef, baked potatoes, tossed salad, and wine.
(kisses Megan)
Except for you. You get milk.
(to Denise)
So how does that sound?
DENISE
Like paradise regained.
(to Megan)
Go wash up, honey.
Megan rushes off upstairs.
DENISE
So what’s wrong?
JEFF
Wrong? What makes you think something’s wrong?
Denise gives him a rueful smile, picks up the wine bottle, sloshes it thoughtfully.
DENISE
Clues, Sherlock. The last time you served wine was the day your car got banged up in the school lot. What is it this time?
Jeff looks as though he’s going to deny it, then stops, shrugs. She knows him too well.
JEFF
This morning in class, a student asked me where I was during Vietnam.
(beat, grimace)
I told him I was in school.
DENISE
You were. I remember it distinctly. I was there with you, remember?
JEFF
I left out the part about the school being in Canada.
DENISE
It’s none of his business anyway.
JEFF
That’s what I said. I just feel…
(beat, hesitant)
I don’t know. Guilty. Like I did something wrong. Dumb, huh?
He opens the oven, pokes at the roast with a long fork.
JEFF
Well, it didn’t moo. I think it’s done.
CUT TO
INT.—DINING ROOM
Denise is filling bowls of salad as Jeff carries the roast out on a platter. Megan has not yet reappeared. Denise goes to the stairs to call.
DENISE
Megan! Come on down, Hon, dinner’s ready.
A beat, then a DOOR CLOSES upstairs and Megan comes down. Denise takes her by the hand, frowns.
DENISE
Megan, you didn’t wash up.
MEGAN
The man was upstairs, Mommy. He talked to me.
DENISE
(put upon)
Honestly. Come on, let’s get you scrubbed up for dinner.
We TRACK with them as they go up the stairs and into the bathroom. Kneeling, Denise takes a facecloth and begins to wash a dirty spot off of Megan’s face.
DENISE
Honey, it’s okay to play pretend, but you shouldn’t try to blame someone else when you forget to do something.
MEGAN
It’s not pretend, Mommy.
DENISE
There, that’s a little better.
She puts down the washcloth, looks at Megan’s reflection in the mirror, smiles. We move in TIGHT on the mirror as Denise’s eyes rise. Behind them, the open bathroom door is reflected, and outside in the hallway, sitting in his wheelchair, is the Vet. Denise spins around, and off her shocked reaction we
CUT TO
DINING ROOM
Jeff grabs a baked potato, winces as it burns his fingers, tosses it onto a plate, and then reacts as we HEAR Denise scream O.S. He’s up like a shot, running for the stairs.
ANGLE ON JEFF
on the staircase, as he almost runs into Denise coming down.
JEFF
What’s wrong?
DENISE
(frantic)
Where is he? Did he come past you?
JEFF
(confused)
What? Come past me? Who?
DENISE
The man in the wheelchair.
(impatient, off Jeff’s confusion)
He was there, in the mirror…I mean, he was in the hall, but I saw him in the mirror, and then…he must have come by you!
JEFF
(baffled)
A man in a wheelchair?
He takes Denise by the shoulders, tries to calm her down.
JEFF
(continued)
I think I would have noticed a man in a wheelchair, honey. Besides, how the hell could anyone get a chair down these stairs?
Denise gapes at the narrow steps, realizes that Jeff is right. But she knows she saw the Vet; she’s totally lost.
DENISE
He was there, I tell you. If he didn’t come down—
(whirls, scared he’s still up there)
Megan appears at the top of the stairs, calm, unafraid.
MEGAN
He’s gone, Mommy.
Denise wraps her in a tight hug.
MEGAN
Don’t be scared, Mommy. He’s a nice man.
ANGLE ON JEFF
as he watches wife and daughter embrace.
JEFF
There is no way anyone could have gotten out of this house.
What the hell is going on here?
(starts up stairs)
Whatever it is, I’m going to find out.
JEFF’S POINT OF VIEW
As he moves upstairs, down the carpeted hall, slamming open doors, peering into the rooms, finding nothing. Bathroom, linen closet, Megan’s room, the master bedroom and bath; all empty.
ANGLE ON JEFF
Standing in his bedroom, looking angry, disgusted. He starts back out into the hall, takes a few steps…and stops dead outside the bathroom. He drops to one knee, reaches out.
CLOSE ON CARPET
As Jeff traces the clear, unmistakable track of a wheelchair tire in the thick shag carpet.
JEFF
What the…
SMASH CUT TO
CLOSE ON MUDDY GROUND
Matching shot, the motion of Jeff’s fingers CONTINUOUS from the last shot, but now the carpet is mud, the tracks are footprints, and Jeff’s sleeve is an army uniform.
EXT.—JUNGLE TRAIL—DAY—JEFF’S POINT OF VIEW
Jeff looks up from the footprints. It’s a jungle trail in Vietnam, narrow, overgrown, thick foliage all around. A black grunt stands a few feet away: a kid, no more than nineteen, his uniform dirty, a crude bandage wrapped around a head wound and soaked with blood. He’s holding an M-16.
GRUNT
Hey, man, what’s wrong?
JEFF
As he staggers to his feet. It’s Vietnam, he’s in cammies, an M-16 slung over his shoulder. He can’t believe any of it. He gapes—at himself, the trees, the gun, at everything.
GRUNT
(disgusted, scared)
Don’t freak on me, Spaceman. I need you, man.
Jeff backs away from him, shaking his head.
JEFF
No. No way. This can’t be—
He backs hard into a tree, stumbles. He’s lost. When the grunt approaches, Jeff shrinks away from him.
JEFF
Stay away from me!
GRUNT
(confused)
What the hell’s wrong? It’s me, man!
He grabs Jeff by the shoulders, shakes him as Jeff struggles.
GRUNT
Cut it out, man. It’s me! Hey, Spaceman, it’s only me.
CLOSE ON JEFF
as the grunt shakes him.
GRUNT (O.S.)
It’s me, man. It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, it’s me…
; Off Jeff’s SCREAM, we
SMASH CUT TO
INT.—HALLWAY
Where Denise has a hysterical Jeff by the shoulders, shaking him, shouting at him.
DENISE
…it’s me, Jeff. It’s only me! It’s me!
Jeff suddenly realizes that he’s back, wrenches free, staggers back away from her, panting.
JEFF
I…I…where…my God, what happened to me?
DENISE
I heard you yelling. When I came up, you were on the floor. It was like you were terrified of me.
JEFF
It wasn’t you!
(beat, confused)
I mean…I don’t…Denise, I was…here, and then suddenly I wasn’t…I was in Nam!
(beat, continues off Denise’s worried look)
I know. It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense.
DENISE
(timidly)
Maybe…I don’t know…maybe you had some kind of…flashback or something?
JEFF
How the hell can you flash back to a place you’ve never been?
DENISE
Jeff, I’m scared.
Jeff takes her in his arms.
JEFF
You’re not the only one.
DISSOLVE TO
INT.—BEDROOM—LATE THAT NIGHT
Dinner’s been reheated and eaten, Megan’s been put to bed, but Jeff is still shaken. Denise, in pajamas, sits up in bed, pillows propped up against the headboard bookcase. Jeff, still dressed, stands by the window, looking out, his back to her.
JEFF
(dully)
I have to go away.
DENISE
Go away? You’re talking crazy, Jeff.
JEFF
(turns to face her)
Crazy? Tell me what’s crazy! A man in a wheelchair who leaves tracks in my carpet and vanishes into thin air, that’s crazy. One moment I’m in Megan’s room and the next I’m in some hut in Nam, that’s crazy. But it’s happening, all of it’s happening.
(beat, then earnestly)
Denise, don’t you see? It’s happening on account of me. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m the cause of it.
DENISE
You haven’t done anything—
JEFF
(interrupts)
No? I can think of something I did. I was drafted, Denise. I chose Canada instead. And now…
(beat, confused)
…now it’s catching up with me, somehow. Maybe Nam was my fate, maybe I was supposed to die there. Maybe this legless ghost is the guy who went instead of me, or someone who died because I wasn’t there.
He turns away again, stares back out the window.
DENISE
That’s your guilt talking, not you. And for what? You said no to a dirty little undeclared war. You helped to stop the war, damn it. You know that.
JEFF
All I know is that I’ve got to leave. If I go, maybe you and Megan will be safe.
Denise gets up from bed, walks over to the window, puts her arms around Jeff, hugs him. He does not turn.
DENISE
Jeff, please. Whatever is happening, we can face it together.
CLOSE ON JEFF
Worried, but softening. He doesn’t want to go, not really.
JEFF
Maybe you’re right.
He turns toward her, to kiss her.
SMASH CUT TO
INT.—BROTHEL—NIGHT
Jeff completes the turn to find himself standing in the bedroom of a brothel in Saigon, a young Vietnamese prostitute standing there with her arms around him, waiting for his kiss. The light flooding through the window is red, garish. Jeff CRIES OUT and thrusts the prostitute away roughly. She stumbles and falls.
JEFF
No, no! Not again.
He backpedals, and runs from the room wildly as the woman gets back to her feet.
CUT TO
EXT.—MCDOWELL HOUSE—NIGHT
As Jeff’s Datsun revs up, backs out of the driveway, and screams off down the street, Denise comes running out of the house, a bathrobe flapping around her legs, shouting for him to stop.
DENISE
Jeff! Jeff! Wait!
The car screeches around a corner and Denise stands there, shaking, slumped in despair.
TIME CUT TO
INT.—DENISE’S OFFICE—THE NEXT DAY
A busy Legal Aid office. Denise is a staff attorney, with a private glass-walled cubicle. She’s working on some briefs, although it’s clear from her face that she’s depressed, unhappy, worried. When her com line BUZZES, Denise lifts the phone.
DENISE
Yes, Susan.
SUSAN
(O.S.)
Your husband’s on five.
DENISE
Thanks.
(pushes phone button, eager)
Jeff? Where have you been? I’ve been so worried.
We HEAR Jeff’s voice over the phone. It has a hoarse, raspy tone; he sounds strained, uncertain.
JEFF (O.S.)
Denise? Is it you?
DENISE
Of course it’s me. Where are you? Are you all right? You sound strange.
JEFF (O.S.)
Strange?
(beat)
I…I’m fine, Denny. How are you?
DENISE
Denny? You haven’t called me Denny since high school. Jeff, what’s the matter?
JEFF
I just…need to see you, Denny. Just for a little while. I’m at home, Denny. I need to see you.
DENISE
I’ll be right there.
She HEARS the click as the phone is hung up. She rises, hurriedly stuffs her briefcase, heads through the door into the outer office, where she pauses by the receptionist’s desk.
DENISE
Susan, I’m going home for the afternoon. Ask Fred to cover for me.
SUSAN
Sure. I hope nothing’s wrong.
Denise nods grimly, and exits.
CUT TO
INT.—DENISE’S CAR
She has a worried look on her face as she drives home.
CUT TO
LEGAL AID OFFICE
The outer office. Susan has just hung up the phone as Jeff comes through the outer door, haggard and unshaven, wearing the same clothes we saw him in the night before. Susan’s obviously surprised to see him.
JEFF
(weary, abashed)
Hi, Susan. Denise in?
SUSAN
She went home about five minutes ago. Right after you called.
JEFF
Right after…I called? I never called.
SUSAN
Of course you did. I put you through myself not ten minutes ago. I ought to know your voice by now.
JEFF
(stares, with dawning apprehension and fear)
My God!
He turns and runs from the office.
CUT TO
EXT.—MCDOWELL HOUSE—DAY
as Denise’s car pulls up. She walks to the kitchen door.
INT.—KITCHEN
as Denise enters.
DENISE
(calls loudly)
Jeff? I’m home.
There’s no answer. Denise frowns. We TRACK with her as she walks through the kitchen and into the living room.
DENISE
Jeff? Are you there?
Silence for a long beat, and then, from upstairs, comes Jeff’s voice…except that it’s not quite his voice, it’s a little harsher somehow, with a bitter edge to it, a rasp. And it’s weak, a bit faint, as if talking was an effort.
VET
Denny? I…I’m here, Denny.
Denise moves upstairs, down the hall.
DENISE
Jeff?
VET
Here. Back here.
The voice is coming from the bedroom. Denise enters. The drapes are pulled tight, the room is very dark.
DENISE
Honey?
&nbs
p; Silence. She crosses the room, pulls back the drapes, and as daylight floods the bedroom, the door SLAMS, Denise whirls.
DENISE’S POINT OF VIEW—WHAT SHE SEES
The Vet, legless, in fatigues, sits in his wheelchair, blocking the only exit from the room. We HOLD on him for a long beat, and for the first time we see that he is Jeff McDowell. A gaunt, hollow-cheeked Jeff McDowell, his scraggly beard doing little to disguise obvious ill-health. His speech patterns are rougher, cruder; this Jeff has been educated by Vietnam and VA hospitals, not colleges and universities. His eyes are deeply sunken; he looks at her like a starving man staring at a feast.
BACK TO THE SCENE
Denise is terrified for a beat, and then she recognizes him.
DENISE
(scared whisper)
Jeff?
The Vet smiles a tremulous, tentative smile. He looks almost as scared as she does.
VET
They call me Spaceman. I got the name in Nam, on account of the movies I liked.
(beat)
You’re looking good, Denny. Even better than you did back…back when we were together.
She backs away, shaking her head.