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200 INTERIOR: THE TOWN OFFICE NIGHT.
URSULA, TESS MARCHANT, and TAVIA GODSOE are checking people in by handing them clipboards and getting them to sign the names of family members who plan to spend the night in the lower level of the town hall. Behind the WOMEN are FOUR MEN, looking important but not doing much. There's ROBBIE BEALS, the town manager, plus the three town selectmen: GEORGE KIRBY, BURT SOAMES, and HENRY BRIGHT. HENRY is the husband of CARLA BRIGHT, and is currently holding his son, another day-care pupil, in his arms. FRANK is fast asleep.
Again, we see faces that we know coming in; an island is a small community. There are no kids older than day-care age; the big kids all got stranded on the mainland side of the reach.
URSULA (plenty harried)
Sign in, everybody! We have to know who's here, so please sign in before you go downstairs!
She casts an impatient look at the men, who are basically standing around and gossiping.
201 INTERIOR: ANGLE ON ROBBIE AND THE SELECTMEN.
BURT SOAMES So what'd he say?
ROBBIE
What could he say? Hell, everybody north of Casco Bay knows Peter Godsoe wholesales nine pounds of pot for every pound of lobster.
He casts an eye on URSULA and TAVIA the latter is rummaging in a supply cupboard for pillows, work ROBBIE wouldn't do unless you stuck a gun in his ear.
ROBBIE
I don't blame him hell, ain't he got a houseful of women to support?
BURT SOAMES CHORTLES. GEORGE KIRBY and HENRY BRIGHT exchange a more doubtful look.
They're not completely comfortable with the meanness of the gossip.
GEORGE KIRBY
Question is, Robbie, how'd that fella know?
ROBBIE rolls his eyes, as if to say, "What a dope."
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ROBBIE
They're likely in business together. Why would a fella kill a harmless old lady like Martha Clarendon in the first place, 'less he was stoned? Tell me that, George Kirby!
HENRY BRIGHT
That doesn't explain how he could know Cat Withers 'us up in Deny for n'abortion.
WOMAN'S VOICE
Ursula! Are there more blankets?
URSULA
Robbie Beals! Henry Bright! You boys think you could go downstairs and bring some more blankets out of that back
storeroom? Or aren't you far enough along with your politician' yet?
ROBBIE and HENRY walk over, ROBBIE with a contemptuous grin, HENRY looking ashamed that he hasn't been more help already.
ROBBIE
What's the matter, Ursula that time of the month, dear?
She gives him a look of utter contempt and brushes hair back from her face.
TESS
Don't you think it's about time to blow the whistle and bring 'em in, Robbie?
ROBBIE
Looks like enough of 'em are coming in on their own. As for the rest, they'll ride it out just fine.
All this is a bunch of foolishness, far's I'm concerned. Do you think our grandmothers and grandfathers all got together in the town hall when it stormed, like a bunch of cave people scared of lightning?
URSULA
No they used the Methodist church. I've got a picture I could show you. Storm of '27. I can point 112
out your granddad in it, if you want. He looks like he's stirring a pot of soup. Nice to know there was at least one fellow in your family knew how to pitch in.
ROBBIE looks ready to come back on her, but before he can: HENRY BRIGHT Come on, Robbie.
HENRY, still holding his sleeping child, heads downstairs. GEORGE KIRBY follows. ROBBIE'S
effectively shut up. GEORGE is easily twenty years older than he is, and if he's not above getting blankets, ROBBIE will at least have to go along and look busy.
URSULA, TAVIA, and TESS look at each other and kind of roll their eyes as the men leave.
Meanwhile, people continue to come in by twos and threes, and the storm continues to ROAR
outside.
URSULA
Sign in before you go downstairs, folks! Please! There's room for everybody, but we have to know who we have!
MOLLY ANDERSON comes in, brushing snow from her hair and holding RALPHIE by the hand.
MOLLY
Ursula, have you seen Mike?
URSULA No, but I'll be able to catch his car radio if he calls in, I think.
(points at the CB)
It's not good for much else tonight. Take off your coat, pitch in.
MOLLY How's it going?
URSULA Oh, we're having a ball. Hi, Ralphie.
RALPHIE Hi.
MOLLY kneels on the wet floor and begins the job of peeling RALPHIE out of his snowsuit. People continue to come in as she does so. Outside, the SNOW SWIRLS and the WIND HOWLS.
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202 EXTERIOR: THE VOLUNTEER FIRE DEPARTMENT NIGHT.
The pumper we saw being washed at the top of the show has long since been put away, but now the fire station's side door opens and FERD ANDREWS struggles out, pulling up the hood of his coat.
He looks downhill at:
203 EXTERIOR: GODSOE FISH & LOBSTER NIGHT.
The tide is almost high. The mainland has disappeared in a curtain of gray and black. The reach is running with waves so big they're nightmarish. These slosh rhythmically over the end of the dock, pelting the long shed with spray.
204 INTERIOR: GODSOE FISH & LOBSTER NIGHT.
We're in a long, high storage area stacked with lobster traps, crates, and fishing gear. One entire wall is hung with slickers, waterproofs, high boots. The SOUND OF THE STORM is MUTED, but only a little. SPRAY PELTS THE WINDOWS.
THE CAMERA MOVES down an aisle of traps, then past a LONG TANK full of lobsters. THE CAMERA SWINGS around the end of the tank, and a few RATS scutter out of sight. Here, in a dusty little passage between the tank and the wall, is stored a LONG OBJECT covered with blankets.
THE WIND SHRIEKS. THE BUILDING CREAKS. A huge SPLASH OF SPRAY hits one of the windows and SHATTERS IT. Wind, water, and snow SWIRL IN. The wind strips the blanket back from the end of the long object, and we see STACKED BALES OF POT, all neatly wrapped in sheets of plastic.
The traps hung overhead CLACK BACK AND FORTH. SOUND of another window BREAKING.
205 EXTERIOR: THE LITTLE TALL MARKET.
We can hear the FAINT CHUG OF THE GENERATOR, and a few lights shine bravely. The only vehicles still parked in front are MOLLY'S little car and a snow-caked pickup with GODSOE FISH & LOBSTER on the side.
206 INTERIOR: CROSSWORD PUZZLE ON POWERBOOK SCREEN, CLOSE-UP.
It's mostly filled in. HATCH adds a word.
207 INTERIOR: THE CONSTABLE'S OFFICE NIGHT.
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HATCH stretches, then stands. In the cell, LINOGE sits as before, back to the wall and looking out from between his knees.
HATCH Got to use the can. You want a coffee or a cold drink, Pete?
PETE doesn't respond at first. The sheet of paper he pulled from the bulletin board is in his lap, but turned over so the print side, with its red-tide warning, is faceup. PETER'S eyes are wide and blank.
HATCH Peter Earth to Peter.
HATCH waves a hand in front of PETER'S face. PETER blinks, and awareness or a semblance of it seeps back into his eyes. He looks up at HATCH.
PETER What?
HATCH
Just asked if you wanted a soda or a coffee.
PETER
No. Thanks, though.
HATCH
(starts toward the door, then turns) You all right?
PETER