(lifts his chin toward the window)
You be here or there when my watch is over don't matter. I'll find you.
He smiles at her. She smiles back, reassured. The WIND SCREAMS. They listen, smiles fading.
FAINT, we hear the SOUND OF POUNDING WAVES.
JACK
Town hall basement's probably gonna be the safest place on the island for the next forty-eight hours. There's going to be one helluva storm surge tonight, tell you that.
ANGELA
Why did that man have to come today, of all days?
BUSTER What did the bad man do, Mommy?
Here we are again little pitchers and their big ears. ANGELA leans over and kisses him.
ANGELA
Stole the moon and brought the wind. How about another sandwich, big boy?
BUSTER Yeah! And Daddy can fly it!
186 EXTERIOR: GODSOE FISH & LOBSTER DARK.
The waves are crashing higher than ever.
187 EXTERIOR: THE LIGHTHOUSE DARK.
Now just a vague shape in the storm, illuminating a WILDERNESS OF SNOW each time the light comes around.
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188 EXTERIOR: MAIN AND ATLANTIC INTERSECTION DARK.
The WIND tears the darkened blinker loose, and it goes flying to the end of its cord, like a yo-yo to the end of its string, before finally thumping down into the snowy street.
189 INTERIOR: THE CONSTABLE'S OFFICE JAIL CELL, WITH LINOGE DARK.
LINOGE is sitting as before, with his feet up and his hungry face framed by his slightly spread knees. He's intent, focused, still wearing the shadow of a smile.
190 INTERIOR: ANGLE ON THE CONSTABLE'S OFFICE, WITH HATCH AND PETER.
HATCH has got a PowerBook open; its glow shines on his rapt face. He's running a crossword puzzle program and is deep into it. He doesn't notice PETER, who is sitting below the bulletin board and staring back at LINOGE, slack-faced and wide-eyed. PETER is hypnotized.
191 INTERIOR: LINOGE, CLOSE-UP.
His smile widens. His EYES DARKEN TO BLACK, and that red starts to roll into them again.
192 INTERIOR: RESUME HATCH AND PETER.
Without removing his gaze from LINOGE'S, PETER reaches behind him and pulls an old Department of Fisheries red-tide notice from the board. He turns it over. He has a ballpoint in his flap pocket. He now clicks the tip and puts pen to paper. He never looks down at what he's doing, though; his gaze never leaves LINOGE.
HATCH
(not looking up)
Say, Pete what do you s'pose this one is? "Yodeler's perch." Three letters.
193 INTERIOR: LINOGE, CLOSE-UP.
Smiling, he mouths a word that looks like a gulp.
194 INTERIOR: RESUME HATCH AND PETER.
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PETER
Alp.
HATCH Coss it is.
(types it into the grid) This is a great program. I'll let you try later, if you want.
PETER Sure.
He sounds okay, but never takes his eyes from LINOGE. His pen never stops moving, either.
Never even slows.
195 INTERIOR: THE BACK OF THE FISHERIES FLYER.
Written there over and over again in jagged capital letters is this: "GIVE ME GIVE ME GIVE ME
GIVE ME WHAT I WANT GIVE ME WHAT I WANT GIVE ME WHAT I WANT." Drawn around the words, like bizarre illuminations on a monk's manuscript, is the same shape we saw over MARTHA'S living room door. Canes.
196 INTERIOR: LINOGE, CLOSE-UP.
Grinning. Black, beastlike eyes full of ROILING RED. We can just see the tips of his fanglike teeth.
197 EXTERIOR: THE WOODS ON THE LITTLE TALL HEADLAND NIGHT.
The WIND SHRIEKS. The trees bend in the BLIZZARD, their branches CLATTERING.
198 EXTERIOR: LITTLE TALL, A HIGH SHOT NIGHT.
The buildings are already snow-covered; the two streets are snow-choked. There are only a few lights. This is a town cut off from the entire outside world. We HOLD ON THIS, then: FADE TO BLACK. THIS ENDS ACT 6.
Act 7
199 EXTERIOR: THE TOWN HALL NIGHT.
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JACK CARVER was right the islanders without woodstoves for heat, or those who live in the path of a possible storm surge at high tide, are already coming in for shelter. Some arrive in four-wheel drives, some come on snowmobiles or in Sno-Cats. Some are on snowshoes and skis. Even with the HOWL OF THE WIND, we can hear the BULL-THROATED ROAR OF THE TOWN HALL GENNIE.
Approaching along the sidewalk are JONAS STANHOPE and his wife, JOANNA. They aren't kids, but they're healthy, even athletic-looking like the actors in the Ensure commercials. They are on snowshoes, and each has a pull line. Behind them is a chair secured to a child's sled, making it into a kind of one-person sleigh. Sitting in the chair, bundled up in robes and an ENORMOUS FUR HAT, is CORA STANHOPE, JONAS'S mother. She's about eighty and looks as regal as Queen Victoria on her throne.
JONAS
You okay, Mom?
CORA Fine as the flowers in May.
JONAS
What about you, Jo?
JOANNA
(rather grim) I'll make it.
They turn into the parking lot beside the town hall. This lot is rapidly filling up with a variety of snow-friendly vehicles. Pairs of skis and snowshoes have been left upright in the snowbank in front of the building. The building itself is courtesy of its big generator lit up like an ocean liner on a stormy sea, an island of safety and relative
comfort on a wild night. Of course, the Titanic probably looked the same way before it hit the iceberg.
Folks walk toward the steps, talking and chatting with nervous excitement. We've built up a relatively large cast of characters, and here we get some payoff, recognizing old friends from the cluster at MARTHA'S house and the shoppers at the market.
We spy JILL and ANDY ROBICHAUX getting out of a four-wheel drive. As JILL undoes the straps holding five-year-old HARRY in his car seat (HARRY'S one of MOLLY'S day-care kids), ANDY slogs gamely over to the STANHOPE family.
ANDY How you doing, Stanhopes? Some wild night, huh?
109
JONAS
It sure is. We're fine, Andy.
But JOANNA, while far from death's door, is also a long way from fine. She's PANTING HARD and uses the break to bend over and clutch the legs of her snowpants.
ANDY
Let me spell you there, Joanna
CORA
(Her Imperial Majesty)
Joanna is fine, Mr. Robichaux. Just needs to get her breath. Don't you, Joanna?
JOANNA gives her elderly mother-in-law a smile that says, "Thanks, right, and, oh, how I'd like to stuff a parking meter up your scrawny old butt." ANDY sees it.
ANDY
Jilly could use some help with the baby, Jo. Would you? I got this. Really.
JOANNA
(very grateful) You bet.
ANDY grabs JOANNA'S half of the harness. As JOANNA goes to JILL (CORA gives her daughter-in-law a look as icy as the storm, one that says "Quitter" loud and clear), DAVEY HOPEWELL, his PARENTS, and MRS. KINGSBURY pile out of a big old Suburban.
JONAS Well, Andy, what do you say? Ready?
ANDY
(cheerily, God love him)
Mush!
They resume pulling the old lady toward the town hall. CORA rides with her blade-thin New England nose regally lifted. JILL and JOANNA walk along behind, CHATTING; HARRY, so bundled up he looks like the Sta-Puft Marshmallow Man, trudges next to his mom, holding her hand.