Episode #180 - There are those at Collinwood that are seeking the truth--the truth that lies at the bottom of a seemingly fathomless mystery, but they must seek answers in strange places--even in the land of the dead.
The body should be here, insists the caretaker. It isn't, says Frank--someone probably moved it. Impossible, says the caretaker--the tomb was sealed the day she was buried, the seal has been unbroken until tonight. The coffin was sealed, too, says Joe, I noticed a heavy chunk of wax up here when we were trying to get it open--he points to the lid. She couldn't find rest, or peace, laments the caretaker, kneeling in front of the tombstone--she's out there somewhere in the night...where, where? The old man's half mad, comments Frank.
I feel like I'm losing my mind, too, says Joe--look, there's got to be some logic, couldn't the body have...disintegrated? asks Peter. Yes, says Joe, after all, she died 200 years ago. Still there would be some trace of her, dust or something, says Peter, but there's nothing here. He feels inside the coffin. What does it all mean? asks Joe. Yeah, Pete, what are you thinking? asks Frank. We know one thing for sure, says Peter, Josette wanted us to see this empty coffin--I have a theory about that, but it's only a theory at the moment. Can't you tell us? asks Frank. Not yet, says Peter, not until we have further proof-there's one more thing we have to do--I'll tell you that in a minute. She couldn't find rest, mutters the caretaker, she couldn't find peace, poor soul, his hands on the stone--the dead should have rest and peace. I understand there's another Laura buried here, says Peter--Laura Murdoch Radcliffe. The caretaker repeats the name--died by fire, he says. Where is she buried? Asks Peter. Outside in the ground, says the caretaker, she couldn't be buried here, she wasn't a Stockbridge. Where, what part of the cemetery? Asks Peter. The old part, past my shed, replies the caretaker, the tree near her grave, maple, when the summer sun is warm, she has shade. He walks out. Frank looks after him oddly. I know what you're thinking, Pete, he says to Guthrie. We'll discuss it outside, says Peter--are you with me? I don't know, says Frank. We've gone this far, we can't stop now, insists Peter--Mrs. Stoddard's life may depend on what we're able to find out. All right, maybe I'm crazy, says Frank, but I'm with you. Good--let's go then, says Peter. The men file out of the crypt. You're going now? asks the caretaker--you're going to leave me? Yes, but we'll be back, promises Peter--we'll put the coffin back to where it belongs. You're going to her--Laura Murdoch Radcliffe, aren't you? asks the caretaker. That's right, says Peter. Be very careful, cautions the old man--the dead don't like to be disturbed--they don't like strangers walking on their graves--they might get angry--you must be very, very careful. I will, Peter assures him. You promise to come back? asks the caretaker. Peter promises, and they leave, the old man looking after them. Laura Murdoch Stockbridge, died by fire, he says, the couldn't find peace, poor soul--she's out there in the night, somewhere--but where? He returns to the crypt and gazes at the empty coffin that Josette opened.
Peter, Frank and Joe search for the tombstones, Joe holding a flashlight. This isn't it, says Joe. John and Corinne Radcliffe, says Frank--must have been a relative. Caretaker said she was buried somewhere near the maple tree, says Peter--must be somewhere right here. Dogs bark. Here it is, announces Joe. Laura Murdoch Radcliffe--born 1840, died 1867. All right, says Joe, we found it, now what? I think you both know, says Peter. You want to open her grave, don't you? asks Frank. Open the coffin? Asks Joe. I have to, says Peter, I have to find out what's in that coffin--you both know we're onto something pretty important--we've got to go through with this--you can't let me down now, either one of you. I should be following the rules of sensible behavior, says Frank, but nothing that's happened tonight is sensible--I'm still with you. All right, says Peter, you know I wouldn't do this if I didn't consider it vitally important. How are we going to dig up a grave? asks Joe, we don't have any shovels. We passed a tool shed back there, says Peter. I'll go see what I can find, says Joe. Frank kneels at the tombstone and asks Peter what he expects to find in the coffin. Haven't you guessed? Asks Peter. Yes, says Frank--you expect to find nothing.
The caretaker stands beside the empty, open coffin. Wish they hadn't gone, he says, wish they hadn't left me--tonight I want the company of the living, I should have told them not to go--they've gone to her grave--the grave of Laura Murdoch Radcliffe--why?--they can't learn secrets from the death--I know thing about her, I could have told them things--things I have stored in my head--and my records--he touches his books--what do I know about her?--what have I read?--she died by fire and at night--yes, that's it!--in the bedroom at night--there was something else about her death, strange, I can't remember what it was, but it was something strange--it must be in this book--everything about the Radcliffes is in this book--what is it I was trying to remember--what is it?
Joe brings over a couple of shovels, hands one to Frank, and points out that there's only room for two of them to dig--I'll start the first shift, he tells Peter. Frank and Joe begin to dig. Wait a minute, says Joe--listen--didn't you hear it? Didn't hear a thing, agree Peter and Frank. Must be my imagination, says Joe, gulping--let's do what we have to do--I want to get out of here.
The caretaker has the book open in his hands. Yes, this is it! he says, excitedly, the death of Laura Murdoch Radcliffe, yes, it's all here--this is all I was trying to remember--this is what I wanted to know--yes, the child!--yes, the boy, the boy!--someone's here, in this room--who is it?--who? He turns to see Laura standing in the corner, a hood over her head. (looking really creepy, too.)
Laura walks over to the man and asks, "Did I startle you?--I'm sorry." How did you get in here? he asks. The door was open, she says. Who are you, what do you want? he asks. I'm looking for someone, she says, Dr. Peter Guthrie--I understood he was coming here--have you seen him? three men came here, he says, but only one of them told me his name--Garden--Gar-- Garner? asks Laura. Yes, he replies, there were two men with him, a young man and an older one. I see, she says. Were they your friends? he asks. Yes they are, she says, but I don't know what they're doing here. She comes upon the open coffin and drops her hand to the floor of it. They came to disturb the dead, says the caretaker--they wanted to open her coffin, I told them not to, to let her rest, but there's no rest for her, poor soul--Laura Murdoch Stockbridge. What did you say? she asks. The coffin was open, she was gone, he says, she couldn't find peace. Why would they want to open a coffin? Asks Laura, disturbed. To help the living, they say, he says, but my concern is not with the living, but with the dead--I'm here to protect them--they're mine. Did my friends say where they'd gone? asks Laura. To the grave of Laura Murdoch Radcliffe, says the caretaker, I can show you how to find them. That's all right, she says--did they say they'd be coming back here? Yes, he says, they shouldn't be long now. In that case, I'll wait, she says. All right, he says, I never minded waiting, either
--the living all have to wait for death. When I came in here, I heard you say that you'd found something--what did you mean? she asks. Yes, it's very interesting, he says, picking up the book--the death of Laura Murdoch Radcliffe, it's here in my records--would you like to look at it? Yes, please she says, taking the book into her hands.
The men have unearthed the coffin. That thing must have weighed a ton, says Joe, breathing hard--one thing for sure, it's never been opened--it's sealed up as tight as a drum. Then by every law of logic, the remains of Laura Murdoch Radcliffe should be inside, says Frank. Every law of logic, yes, says Peter. Well, what say we find out, says Joe. They open the coffin.
Interesting, isn't it? the caretaker asks Laura--your friends will find it interesting, too--I'll show it to them when they get back. What are they trying to find--did they tell you? she asks. They're interested in the old families, he says, the Stockbrdiges, Murdochs, Radcliffes. (she looks like a witch holding that book.) Why? she asks. I don't know, I never asked them, he says, it's a curious thing about Laura Murdoch Stockbridge and Laura Murdoch Radcliffe--two with the same maiden name, living 100 years apart, and both died by fire. I suppose that is curious, she says. Died by fire, he says--t- burn alive must be the most terrifying kind of death--I don't like to think about it. She puts down the book. I'm not afraid of fire, she says--oh, no, fire gives a warmth--and there's beauty in fire--wild, indescribably beauty--with colors so vivid, so intense, so beautiful...so very beautiful...
The men pry open the coffin with difficulty, but Joe finally succeeds. Help me open the lid, he says. He and Frank do so. Dirt falls from the top of the casket as they do so--all look inside.
What do you see? asks Peter. What you thought we'd see--nothing, says Frank--absolutely nothing. It's an empty box, says Joe, looks almost like it's always been empty.
Laura stands in the corner. Have you ever looked into the heart of a fire? she asks the caretaker. Yes, he replies. You've seen the colors, the red, yellow, gold, every color of the spectrum, she says fanatically, burning brighter, brighter, brighter, but there's great sadness in fire, too--every fire must die--but the beautiful part is, another will be kindled--in another place, in another time... I feel so strange, says the old man. Do you? asks Laura.
Yes, he says, I don't know why, but I feel so strange. He puts his hand to his head and looks up., Miss? He calls--but she's gone.
The men re-bury the coffin. There, says Joe, the thing's back in the ground where it belongs. The body of Laura Murdoch Collins missing in Phoenix, outlines Frank, the body of Laura Murdoch Stockbridge missing from the crypt, and now the body of Laura Murdoch Radcliffe missing, too--there's got to be a connection, there's got to be, says Frank. I agree with you, says Peter. Let's get back to town, says Joe. No, we've got to do one more thing, says Peter--we've got to put the Stockbridge coffin back in the vault. That's right, says Joe, I'd almost forgotten about it. They agree to do it and get it over with.
I'm sorry we were away for so long, says Peter, entering the crypt. What? asks the caretaker, as if waking up--what a strange thing to say--is it a joke? I don't understand, says Peter. You just went out that door a moment ago, insists the caretaker. No, we've been gone almost two hours, says Peter. No, says the caretaker, you're trying to confuse me--why? Peter looks at the others. Tell me, he says, was anybody here, try to remember. No one was here except you, no one, says the caretaker. What happened after we left? asks Peter. I walked to the bookshelves where I keep me records, I was looking for something, I can't remember, I'm tired, I'm going to the cottage now. Please, begs Peter, try to remember what happened after we left. I can't remember, mumbles the caretaker, tired, need rest, I'm an old man, I need rest, going to my cottage--he leaves. What do you suppose he was looking for? asks Joe. Could it have been this book? asks Frank, lifting the tome in his hands--a record of the Radcliffe family. Look at that page you opened, suggests Peter, is there any mention of the death of Laura Murdoch Radcliffe? No, says Frank, there's no mention of it at all, except for this newspaper clipping--the masthead says Collinsport Courier, October 1867. The year Laura Radcliffe died, says Joe--probably an account of her death. They all gaze at the book. What does it say? asks Peter. Nothing says Frank, the ink's all faded. Impossible, says Peter, ink can't fade in a closed book. We see the page, and it looks as if water had gotten on it, smearing the print into illegibility. The masthead is still there, says Frank, only the article is gone.
There's only one way ink can fade like that, says Peter--gazing at the page--being exposed to a light--a powerful light--the light of a fire!
NOTES: Looks like Laura burned out another clue--that article must have told how Laura Murdoch died, and she didn't want the guys to find out how, so she not only dispensed with that, but the caretaker's memory of both her and them as well! Pretty neat powers, Laura, and she looked very witchlike standing there in her cowled cape.
Three intrepid ghost hunters are Frank, Peter and Joe. I enjoy watching them together, because they are all nervous and scared, especially Joe, but they plow on, determined to learn what they want to know.
Two empty coffins--what does that mean? Is Laura just one person, one Phoenix, coming back to life every 100 years? Interesting life!
Once again, the caretaker, half mad, as someone here said, trying to protect the dead from the living. He got in Laura's way and was about to reveal something about her she didn't want revealed--but she took care of it, didn't she? And when she described fire so vividly, didn't it make you go hot and cold all over?
Episode #181 - Night has come to Collinwood, a growing darkness has slowly crept in from the sea, brining the day to an end--but it has brought with it no promise of rest--nor of peace--no end of mystery, nor of fear--again throughout this night and the day to come, knowledge brings not light, but a deeper darkness and unending fear.
Drawing room - I wish Uncle Roger hadn't suddenly decided to go to Boston to see my mother, frets Carolyn to Vicki. Why? asks Vicki. I don't know, I just don't like being alone in the house tonight. I'm here and David's here, Vicki reminds her, and Mrs. Johnson. No, Mrs. Johnson said she was spending the night with her sister, and you and David don't count, says Carolyn, sitting beside Vicki--I never thought I'd have to depend on Uncle Roger for a feeling of security--this house seems to empty--listen--how quiet. Why don't you go up to bed? suggests Vicki. It's too early, says Carolyn--besides, how could I sleep? She rises to her feet and walks. Why haven't they called? she asks Vicki. I don't know, Vicki replies--I suppose Frank got there in time to stop them from opening the grave. I would have thought Joe at least would have called to tell us what happened! says Carolyn. But maybe nothing happened, says Vicki, maybe Dr. Guthrie opened the grave and found nothing unusual. Carolyn sighs. Maybe, she says. Why is it so quiet? I heard something! says Vicki--someone's coming toward the door. Maybe it's Dr. Guthrie, says Carolyn. Or maybe it's... begins Vicki. Who? asks Carolyn. How could we forget? asks Vicki--we're not alone--maybe it's Mrs. Collins coming up from her cottage. I don't want to see her, not tonight, says Carolyn--the house is too empty, it's too quiet. Someone knocks. I guess it's not Mrs. Collins, says Vicki, she wouldn't knock. She goes to answer, Carolyn behind her. It's ridiculous, says Vicki, we've got nothing to be afraid of!--it probably is Dr. Guthrie or Frank. Probably, says Carolyn, but I still think I should come with you. The knock comes again, and the girls gaze fearfully at the door, upon which their visitor is knocking hard.
It's Peter. Vicki smiles with relief. and opens the door. Dr. Guthrie, says Carolyn--we thought it was probably you--and Joe--come in! We'll only stay a minute, promises Peter, but we knew you'd want a full report. Where's Frank? Asks Vicki--didn't he find you? Oh yes, he found us, all right, says Joe. I'm sorry I broke my promise and told him where you'd gone, says Carolyn. It's all right, says Peter, I understand. Did he try to talk you out of the whole thing? asks Carolyn. Yes, he was very persuasive, says Peter. Then you didn't find what you'd hoped to find? Asks Vicki. I don't know what he hoped to find, says Joe, but we sure found something. Just when we were about to give up, thanks to Frank, says Peter, our friend Josette took over. I've never had anything like this happen to me, says Joe, and I'm not sure I ever want it to happen again. What did Josette do? asks Carolyn. The caretaker wouldn't let us open the coffin of Laura Murdoch Radcliffe, says Peter. So Josette, says Joe, whoever or whatever she is--she opened it. She opened it? asks Vicki, shocked. Yes, says Peter, it seemed to open by itself, but Joe got a strong scent of jasmine just seconds before. It was Josette, says Vicki. And what did you find? Asks Carolyn. Nothing, says Peter--it was completely empty. Like the vault in the morgue in Phoenix? Asks Vicki. Yes, says Joe, and like the grave of Laura Murdoch Radcliffe. We opened that grave, too, says Peter, but there was nothing there--it was empty--and it was perfectly obvious that in both cases, nobody had opened the coffins before we did. What does it all mean? asks Vicki. I don't know, says Guthrie, but I think we will before long. Joe holds up a ledger and lays it on the table. We're hoping this will check out with more information, he says. Is that one of the books from the crypt? Asks Vicki. Yes, says Peter, the old caretaker lent it to us for a few days. What's in it? asks Carolyn. Joe thumbs through some pages. Just records, he replies, but look at this--there's this old newspaper clipping tucked away in it. 1867, reads Vicki--that's the year Laura Murdoch Radcliffe died. That's right, says Peter. Is there something in the paper about it? asks Carolyn. No, not in this particular copy, says Peter. Look at this, says Joe, there's a whole section that's completely faded--now it's our guess that there was something about it, right there. How can you tell? asks Carolyn. The old caretaker, says Peter, he halfway remembered something that he was looking for among his books, but he couldn't remember what. Very strange thing, says Joe, he seemed to have a memory lapse. Joe is going to do some research for us, says Peter. At the library in town, says Joe, I think I might be able to get my hands on another copy of this paper.
When are you going to find something definite, something positive/ asks Vicki. Very soon, perhaps, says Peter. What does two empty graves have to do with my mother being sick? asks Carolyn--I don;' understand that. You will, promises Peter, and I hope we all will very soon. Is there anything I can do to help? asks Vicki. I might have to ask you to do another seance, says Peter--I'm not sure yet, but there is one thing I can very strongly advise--try to keep David away from Mrs. Collins. But we can't! objects Carolyn. You know that we've tried, says Vicki, but we have no right to, she's his mother. And Uncle Roger always takes her side, says Carolyn--he wants her to take him away, and the sooner, the better. David mustn't under any circumstances go away with his mother, insists Peter. What can we do to stop her? asks Vicki. Uncle Roger is the only person who can do that--and he's gone to Boston to see my mother, says Carolyn. Then I'll have to make my appeal to him when he returns, says Peter, but in the meantime, try to do everything you can to keep David away from his mother--and in particular, try to persuade him to stay here at Collinwood--for good.
The clock chimes the hour. Carolyn enters David's room. She's dressed in night clothes. She pulls the covers up over him as he sleeps, but he wakes up. Mother? he asks. It's me, she says. Who is it? he asks. Carolyn, she says--I didn't mean to wake you up. What are you doing in here? he asks. Nothing, she says. You must be doing something, you know I don't like you in my room--you haven't told me what you wanted. She sits beside him on the bed. I just wanted to make sure you were asleep, she says. But you just woke me up, he points out. I didn't mean to, she says, fixing his hair in the front. You know I don't like you to come in my room, he says, you don't let me come in your room. I'm sorry, she says fondly. Can you imagine all the hollering that would go on if I went into your room? he asks. I wouldn't care that much, she assures him, smiling--honestly. I'll bet, he says. I mean that, she says. A long time ago, we agreed that I'd let you alone and you'd let me alone, he reminds her. But that was a long time ago, she says. But it wasn't such a long time ago that you called me a spoiled monster, he says. She looks ashamed. I know, she says. A menace to the civilized world, he says, that's what you told Miss Winters I was.
She holds his shoulders. What I'm trying to say is... What? he asks. Never mind, she says, smoothing back his hair, go back to sleep. You still haven't told me what you were doing up here, he says as she walks to the door. Can't you believe I was just concerned about you? she asks. You don't have to take care of me, he says, Miss Winters does that0--I don't need you. All right, then, she says, stung--David--don't you believe that people can change?. What people? he asks. Most people, she says--they grow up--they become different, so you don't even know them. I suppose you mean you, he says. She nods. Why not? she asks. You haven't changed so much, he notes, you don't seem so grown up, either, you probably just like to think that you are. I guess you're right, she says. Huh? he asks. Maybe I'm not so grown up, she says quietly, sitting on the foot of his bed--I just like to think that I am--maybe I'm the spoiled monster--a menace to the civilized world. I don't get it, he says--you've never talked this way before--I've never heard you talk that way. Neither have I, she admits, at least not in front of you. What does it mean? he asks, puzzled. Can't it mean that maybe I've changed? She asks, or I am changing? I don't know, he says, shrugging, I don't get it. She chuckles. Go back to sleep, she says, sorry I woke you up. She kisses his forehead, probably freaking him out. Good night, she says. Carolyn? he asks--are you OK? Yes, she says. Nothing bad has happened, has it? he asks. No, nothing at all, she assures him. If nothing bad has happened, he says, that's not why you're being so nice to me, is it? No, she says, everything's all right--you go back to sleep. She leaves his room after giving him a smile. He rubs the spot on his forehead where she kissed him, perplexed, then settles down to sleep. (what a great scene!)
Collinsport - Public Library - Joe goes through books, searching for answers. He writes down a few things, then goes to another shelf and looks for other books.
He pulls out a large tome and finds a copy of the newspaper clipping that was in the old caretaker's book. He studies it carefully.
Collinwood - Vicki and David do schoolwork at the desk in the drawing room. The verb is the right tense, she tells him, but something else is wrong--tell me what it is. The subject's singular and the predicate's plural, he says, grinning. That's right, she says, and what's the word between? A preposition, he says. And what does it take? She asks. A direct object, he says. Then what's this? she asks. A mistake, he says--but on the whole, David, it's a very good composition. You like it? he asks. Yes I do, she says, but it's not what I assigned--I asked you to write about a real person, not an imaginary one. If someone's real in your imagination, he asks, isn't that real enough? I don't want to restrict your imagination, but I don't think it would hurt if you concentrated more on reality. But she is real, he says, I told you! You don't have a sister and you know it! says Vicki. I do know it, he admits, sadly, I was just wondering what it would be like--and what she'd be like. Apparently, she'd be very nice, says Vicki. And she'd like me? asks David. (awwww!) I wouldn't be surprised, says Vicki. Would it be going to far to say...if I had a sister, an older sister, do you, well, would she love me? he asks. I think so, says Vicki. And would I love her? he asks. I don't know--would you? she counters. I guess if she loved me, well, maybe, I guess I wouldn't, wouldn't I? I would hope you would, says Vicki, it's a terrible waste not to love the people who love you. I know it is, he says--if I had a sister, well, I know I don't, it was all my imagination, I guess it was stupid of me to even think about it--I should have done the assignment you told me to do. Vicki bites her lip. What I want to know, she says, is where you got the idea from? (Carolyn's visit, I would think.) No place in particular, he says, you know, I'd bet Carolyn would be different if she had a brother. I guess she would, agrees Vicki, but what's this all about, David. Nothing, I told you, he says. The phone rings, and she tells him to work on his math problems while she answers it. It's Joe, calling from the library, and he asks for Peter. He phoned to say he was on his way, says Vicki--I expect him here any minute. Is it OK if I come out there, says Joe--I've got something I've got to show him. Sure, says Vicki--what is it? Wait till you see it, he says. You found the old newspaper, she guesses. Right, he says, black on white. What does it say? she asks. I'll show you when I get there, he says--when Dr. Guthrie shows up, tell him I'm on my way. All right, says Vicki, I will--goodbye. They hang up. Vicki finds David sitting by the fire. I thought you were going to work on your math problems, she reminds him. I left my arithmetic book in the kitchen, he says. I left some books there, too, she says, I'll go get it--but you please work on that, you hear me, David? Yes, I heard you, he answers, and opens his notebook and looks at it. The fire attracts his gaze very quickly, and he is momentarily distracted. He whips his head back and forth between the fire and his notebook--and then he sees his own head coming at him from the flames. Help!, Mother, Miss Winters, help me! he cries out, terrified. He backs away from the fire and ends up running into Dr. Guthrie's arms.
Let me go, let me go! pleads David. What's the matter? asks Peter. I want my mother! blares David--in there, in there! What's in there? asks Peter, still holding onto him. I saw myself in there! he tells Peter--I saw myself--I want my mother! Where did this happen to you, show me, says Peter, taking him by the arm pulling him back into the drawing room. No, I don't want to go back there, I can't! cries David, struggling in Peter's arms. Vicki comes running in and David transfers himself to her embrace. He said he saw something in there, explains Peter--he said he's in there. Vicki holds David close. Tell me what you saw, says Vicki. I saw myself in the fire, says David--help me, help me--I was on fire! Vicki clutches him more rightly.
Drawing room, at the desk - You must have gotten an early start this morning, Peter tells Joe. I had the library make up a photostatic copy, says Joe. Exactly where is it on the page? Asks Peter. Just where you guessed it, says Joe, right in the faded spot. They look over the copy. Vicki comes in and asks Peter to come upstairs--she's done everything she can, but she can't calm David down--he's frightened out his wits. What's happened to David? asks Joe. Sorry, she says, I didn't even notice you. What's happened to David? Joe asks again. We're not sure, says Vicki. Tell Joe what David told you, says Vicki. He said he saw himself, apparently in the fireplace, explains Vicki. What? asks Joe. He said he saw himself in the fire, repeats Vicki. I don't believe it, says Joe. He's upstairs now, she says, and all he can keep saying is, "I was on fire!" That's incredible! Says Joe. It is, says Peter, isn't it? I guess it's something like he saw himself the way he was in the painting, in the flames, says Vicki--I don't know--and I don't know how much more of this he can stand. It's a vision of the past, says Joe--Dr. Guthrie, tell Vicki what's in that old newspaper clipping. What does it say? asks Vicki. It tells about a woman who died in a fire, says Peter, the paper in his hand, and her name, as you might have guessed, was Laura Murdoch Radcliffe. But David said he saw himself in the fire, says Vicki. I know, says Peter--the article also tells about a child, a boy. It even gives his name, says Joe--David. This shocks Vicki. David? she asks. Yes, says Peter. Please tell me he wasn't hurt, was he? asks Vicki.
He died in the fire--in his mother's arms, reveals Peter.
NOTES: Is this Laura's grisly plan for David--to burn herself up--and take him with her? The idea is too horrifying to contemplate, but it appears this IS Laura's master plan.
I loved the sweet Carolyn-David scene. These two cousins haven't had much use for each other since we've seen them, constantly battling each other--but now that she feels him to be in danger, Carolyn realizes she loves the little monster. Apparently, David loves her, too--his writing about an imaginary sister was the reflection of his new feelings for Carolyn, who, in his mind, really behaved oddly. That she came in to cover him, smoothed back his hair, kissed his forehead, told him that she could change, puzzled and pleased him in equal measure. It was a touching scene between them. Equally poignant was his asking Vicki about what having a big sister would be like. In many ways, Vicki is also his older sister, she has said so in the past. The danger David has found him in has made these two young women, Carolyn in particular, realize their true feelings for David--although I think Vicki has loved him for a long time. And love is what David craves, above all else--he tried to kill Roger because his own father seems to hate, rather than love him. All David needs is love.
And now, thanks to Joe and Peter, we know precisely what lies in store for David--unless they do something to stop it. Will they be able to prevent Laura's hideous plan from coming to fruition? It's a race against time, as we will soon learn.
Love, Robin
