ONAS

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?

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.

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."

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 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.

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.

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

(after a beat)

Yeah. Spent all day battening down for the storm, and now I guess I'm almost asleep with my eyes open. Sorry.

HATCH

Well, hang in there. Jack Carver and Kirk Freeman should be along in twenty minutes or so.

HATCH grabs a magazine to read in the can and leaves.

208 INTERIOR: LINOGE, CLOSE-UP.

His eyes DARKEN. He looks at PETER. His lips move soundlessly.

209 INTERIOR: PETER, CLOSE-UP.

He's totally blank again. Hypnotized. Suddenly THE SHADOW OF LINOGE'S CANE appears on his face. PETER looks up at:

210 INTERIOR: AN OVERHEAD BEAM, FROM PETER'S POINT OF VIEW.

The cane is hooked over it. The bloody WOLF'S HEAD SNARLS.

211 INTERIOR: THE CONSTABLE'S OFFICE NIGHT.

PETER gets up and slowly crosses the room, the notice he was writing on trailing from one hand. He walks directly beneath the cane. LINOGE sits on the cell's cot, watching him, only his weird eyes moving. PETER stops at a wall-mounted cabinet and opens it. There are all sorts of tools inside. There's also a COIL OF ROPE. He takes it.

212 EXTERIOR: GODSOE FISH & LOBSTER NIGHT.

A GIGANTIC WAVE rolls out of the reach, smashes the end of the town dock, and chews off the end of Peter Godsoe's building. We can hear the SNAP OF WOOD even above the storm.

213 EXTERIOR: FERD ANDREWS, BY THE FIRE DEPARTMENT SIDE DOOR.

FERD ANDREWS

Oh . . . my . . . God! (raises his voice) Lloyd! Lloyd, you gotta see this!

214 INTERIOR: THE FIRE STATION GARAGE, WITH LLOYD WISHMAN NIGHT.

The two island pumpers are apple green. The passenger window of one is partly open. Hanging from it is the bloody wolfs head of LINOGE'S cane. Standing nearby, looking as blank as PETER GODSOE, is LLOYD. In one hand he has a small can of red paint. In the other is a brush. He's working with the care of a Manet or van Gogh.

FERD ANDREWS (voice-over)

Lloyd! It's gonna take Godsoe's! It's gonna take the whole dock!

LLOYD WISHMAN pays no attention. Goes on painting.

215 INTERIOR: THE CONSTABLE'S OFFICE, A HIGH ANGLE.

The cane no longer hangs over the beam, but a coil of rope is flung up and over the place where it was. In the background, LINOGE sits in his cell, face predatory, eyes ROLLING WITH RED AND BLACK.

216 EXTERIOR: GODSOE'S FISH & LOBSTER NIGHT.

Another HUGE WAVE smashes into the town dock, tearing a lot more of it away and capsizing a small boat someone foolishly left tied there. It also takes another huge bite out of the warehouse.

217 INTERIOR: GODSOE'S FISH & LOBSTER NIGHT.

We can see right outside through a RAGGED HOLE in the end of the building: the amputated dock and the heaving waves of the reach. Now another of these big ones ROLLS TOWARD THE CAMERA, inundating what's left of the dock and SMASHING INTO THE WAREHOUSE. Lobster traps are lifted and sucked away. The lobster tank is overturned, and lobsters are freed by the dozens, a sudden and unexpected commutation of their death sentence. And, as the big wave retreats, BALES OF POT also float out of the hole at the end of the building.

218 EXTERIOR: OUTSIDE THE FIRE DEPARTMENT, WITH FERD ANDREWS.

FERD ANDREWS

(shouting)

You better come, Lloyd, if you want to see sumpin' you ain't never gonna see again! She's a-goin'! She's a-goin'!

219 INTERIOR: THE FIRE STATION, WITH LLOYD WISHMAN.

LLOYD is also a-goin', as it happens. As he finishes painting, THE CAMERA MOVES around, showing us what is written in big red capitals up the side of the green pumper. Overlaying the gold letters that read LITTLE TALL ISLAND V.F.D. is this message: "GIVE ME WHAT I WANT AND I'LL GO AWAY."

FERD ANDREWS (voice-over) Git out here, Lloyd! The whole shebang's gain' into the drink!

Taking no notice, LLOYD sets the paint can down on the running board of the pumper and puts the brush neatly across the top. As he does these things, we see that the cane that was hanging from the partly open window is gone ... or maybe it was never there in the first place. Maybe it was just in LLOYD WISHMAN'S mind.

LLOYD moves to the side of the pumper and opens one of the tool storage compartments. He takes out a fire axe.

220 INTERIOR: THE CONSTABLE'S OFFICE NIGHT.

PETER GODSOE, eyes blank, is standing on a chair. The end of the rope he threw over the beam has been fashioned into a noose, and the noose is around his neck. Pinned to his shirt is his "homework": the sheet with "GIVE ME WHAT I WANT" written all over it, plus the cane drawings. Written in extra-big letters at the top, like a title, is "GIVE ME WHAT I WANT AND I'LL GO AWAY."

221 INTERIOR: LINOGE, CLOSE-UP.

Lips moving. Chanting silently. Eyes BIG BLACK HOLES shot through with RED FIRE.

222 INTERIOR: THE FIRE STATION NIGHT.

LLOYD stands with the keen blade of the axe pointing at the center of his face. He's gripping the handle far up on the shaft, the kind of grip you want if you're going to chop kindling out back of the house ... or your own face in two.

223 INTERIOR: LINOGE, CLOSE-UP.

Lips moving faster now. Weird eyes wider. Hands clenched into fists in front of him.

224 EXTERIOR: THE OCEAN SIDE OF THE FIRE STATION, WITH FERD.

His face is filled with awe and terror. His mouth hangs open.

FERD ANDREWS

My sainted hat!

225 EXTERIOR: THE TOWN DOCK, WITH WHAT REMAINS OF GODSOE'S.

Bearing down on it through the HOWLING SNOW is a huge wave almost a tidal wave.

226 INTERIOR: THE CONSTABLE'S OFFICE, WITH PETER'S FEET.

They kick away the chair with a CLATTER, then begin to JITTER.

227 EXTERIOR: THE ONCOMING WAVE NIGHT.

It dwarfs the dock and the warehouse.

228 INTERIOR: THE MARKET, WITH HATCH.

He stops pouring his coffee and turns toward the constable's office door, reacting to the CLATTER OF THE CHAIR.

HATCH Peter?

229 INTERIOR: THE AXE, CLOSE-UP.

It swings out of the frame, and we hear an unpleasant SOUND it's like someone slapping mud with the flat of his hand. CHUMP!

230 INTERIOR: GODSOE FISH & LOBSTER NIGHT.

We're looking out at the reach . . . but suddenly the view is blotted out by the ONCOMING WAVE. There's nothing to be seen through the broken-off stump of the warehouse but SURGING GRAY WATER. It SMASHES INTO GODSOE'S, and suddenly THE CAMERA IS UNDERWATER. A SMASHED TRAP, a BALE OF POT, and a LOBSTER with its claws still pegged go floating past in gusts of bubbles.

231 EXTERIOR: THE TOWN DOCK NIGHT.

What remains is inundated and torn completely away. The retreating wave carries off a tangle of boats, ropes, cleats, rubber boat-bumpers, and Godsoe's shingled roof. Maybe we see part of the sign GODSOE FISH & LOBSTER before it all disappears into the BELLOWING BLIZZARD.