Episode #166 - The brightness of the morning cannot mask the fact that the night has been marked by a restless, fitful sleep, especially for one young woman who has been disturbed by strange premonitions and events that she does not fully understand.
The clock in the foyer reads 10:20. Carolyn paces the drawing room behind Vicki, who sits on the sofa, goes to look up at it and listens to its relentless ticking. Vicki is playing solitaire. Carolyn stops pacing and asks, Why isn't he back yet? All that pacing isn't going to bring him back any sooner, Vicki assures her--you must have covered a good 10 miles. How can you sit there and play solitaire? demands Carolyn--aren't you worried? Of course I am, says Vicki, I'm just doing it to calm down--I don't like the idea of David being down there anymore than you do. Uncle Roger was so foolish to allow it, frets Carolyn. He's got to be all right, says Vicki, we'd have heard if anything had happened--it's not as if he was off the grounds, he's only down at the cottage. Yes, down at the cottage, with Laura, Carolyn reminds her. Who happens to be his mother, Vicki says. I know, says Carolyn, I tell myself all the reasonable things--and yet I still spent a sleepless night, worrying, and I don't even know about what. If he's not back soon, there's no law against our going down there, Vicki says. Why are we so worried? asks Carolyn--why do we have this feeling of disaster? I think you're being a little melodramatic, says Vicki--I'm worried because your uncle made me break my word to your mother, I promised her I'd keep David away from Mrs. Collins. There's more to it than that, says Carolyn. What more can there be? asks Vicki. I keep telling you, I don't know! says Carolyn. We have to remember that Mrs. Collins wouldn't hurt David, says Vicki, she wants him--and she loves him. Carolyn looks at her. Sometimes love can be the most harmful thing of all, says Carolyn--I feel that every minute David is out of this house, he's in terrible danger.
She goes back to pacing, and Vicki looks worried.
We can't keep David under lock and key, says Vicki. I know, says Carolyn. And if Roger gives permission, there's nothing we can do, adds Vicki. There's one thing I can do--ask her to leave Collinwood, declares Carolyn--my mother put me in charge during her absence. No! cries Vicki--what if Roger lets her take David away with her?--what if your mother came back here and found David gone? Uncle Roger's making this so difficult, complains Carolyn. She sits down at a table I've never seen, near the piano, and pours tea or coffee. And there's another consideration, says Vicki, walking over to her, until Dr. Guthrie completes his investigation, I don't think he'd want anyone to leave--she sits at the table with Carolyn--that was here when your mother got sick. Especially Laura, says Carolyn--she was the last one to see my mother before she went into the trance. Why did she say she hadn't seen her? wonders Vicki. I wish Dr. Guthrie would come up with something, says Carolyn, sipping her coffee. There is one thing that he wanted to try, says Vicki--the seance. Seance, muses Carolyn--I thought he was a scientist, not a spiritualist, that he was going to use scientific techniques. It might turn up something, says Vicki--after all, there is Josette, and all the strange things that have happened here. We really can't afford to turn up our noses at anything, says Carolyn, bemused at the idea--even if nothing comes of it, it might be a gas--everyone touching fingertips and knocking knees!--she frowns--the front door opens and David runs in. Hello!--where is everybody? he calls. Carolyn runs into the foyer and hugs him hard. Thank goodness you're home! she says. What is it?--I can hardly breathe! he complains. I'm sorry, I'm just so glad to see you! she bubbles. (big change there.) Golly, you'd think I'd been gone a hundred years! he says. We missed you, Carolyn tells him. Did you have a good time? asks Vicki. Yes, he replies, I'm going to do it again. The girls look at each other. I think we'd better talk about that some other time, says Carolyn. There's nothing to talk about, he says, I am! Don't you think you should ask permission first? queries Carolyn. I don't have to, says David smugly, my mother said I could. You're still under our care and you'll do as we say! says Carolyn sternly. Carolyn, cautions Vicki, and shakes her head at her. We'll see, says Carolyn more gently. I am--and you can't stop me! says David. David, chastises Vicki. She can't, says David, not if my mother wants me, and she does--she told me she does. He walks away from them. Tell us about what happened, says Vicki. I just had a good time, that's all, he says--I ate and slept and played--it wasn't so much what we did, it was just being there with her. And nothing happened that frightened you? asks Vicki. No, I felt nice, he says, as Carolyn listens thoughtfully. Nothing a little unusual? asks the blonde. No, why should there be? he asks. Sometimes there is around strange places, says Carolyn. Nothing could happen to me around my mother's cottage, says David. How can you be so sure? asks Vicki. Josette, he says. You saw her? asks Vicki. No, but I knew she was there, says David--her perfume, that smell, was all around--Josette was watching over my mother's house, to make sure it was safe. (ah, but does he know Josette was powerless against his mother?) He goes over to sit by the fire. Carolyn answers a knock at the door. David, calls Vicki...David? She realizes he is staring into the fire raptly, unhearing, and, disturbed, touches his shoulder.
Joe Haskell is at the door, looking for a ledger for the accountant at the cannery. Come in, invites Carolyn, smiling. One door swings open after she closes them. It's been a long time, she says. Long time, he agrees. How have you been? she asks. No complaints, he says, how about you? Busy, she says, you know with my mother and everything. Sorry to hear about her illness, says Joe--what do the doctors say? It's too soon to tell yet, she says, they're running a lot of tests. If I can be of any help, he offers. Thanks, she says, I really do appreciate that, coming after what happened between us. That has nothing to do with it, he says, forget it--I have. She looks almost disappointed. What do you hear about my mother? she asks--what are people saying? I guess there are as many theories as there are people in Collinsport, he says. Is there anything being said about anything unusual about her illness? asks Carolyn. I don't know what you mean, he says. You know, strange, unnatural? she asks. Some, he admits. I was afraid of that, she says. It doesn't mean a thing, he assures her. It does to me, she says, I wish people wouldn't talk like that. You can't stop it, he says. I know, she says, I guess when people start speculating, there's no telling what they'll say. It's all harmless enough, he says. Maybe to you, she says. Look, he says, when people in this town want a little glamour or mystery in their lives, they've got three places they can go get it--television, movies--and this house--most of what they're saying is sympathetic; she's always played fair with them. I hope so, she says. Take my word for it, he says. Thanks, Joe, she says--what have you been doing with yourself? Same old thing, he says, you know me--8 hours of work, 8 hours of rest, 8 hours of play. Any interesting new playmates? she asks. (is this a bid to get him back?) Some, he admits. You're so New England, she teases, never use two words when one will do. Yup, he says, smiling. Do you ever wish you could go back and change things? she asks. I'm not an eraser, he says, once something has happened, it's happened--you gotta go on from there. That's pretty hard talk, she says--it doesn't allow for giving people a second chance. If they hurt you the first time, why give them another crack at it? he asks. Don't you believe in new beginnings? she asks. Yeah, but new beginning doesn't mean starting all over again with the same people, says Joe. (he's letting her down easy.) I see, she says--the moving finger writes, and having writ, moves on. I don't know about moving fingers, says Joe, I just know about me--I move on. I do, too, she says, I move on and learn and change--what I'm trying to say is, I won't make the same mistake twice--I'm free again. What I'm trying to say is, he says, that I'm not. She turns away. Well, she says, that puts it right smack on the line. We've always put things right smack on the line, he reminds her, even in our best days, we weren't famous for pulling punches. No, she agrees--and I guess I threw the first punch--this round is yours. I'm not trying to get back at you, he says, it's just the way things are. I know, she says, I'll get you the ledger now.
As she's running upstairs, he tells her they're still friends, if she wants that. Sure, she says, and continues on her way, deflated, I'm sure.
I hope your mother didn't let you stay up too late, says Vicki to David. I went to bed early, he says, you would have been proud. She smiles. Good, she says, and did you get a good sleep? Yes, he says, and I had a dream. Not a nightmare? she asks, concerned. No, this wasn't scary, he says, it was a wonderful dream. That's a pleasant surprise, she says. It was the most beautiful dream in the world, he says, gazing into the flames, and that's not all--my mother held me in her arms, all night long--that was the best part, being together again. Was it? asks Vicki. Yes, says David, I sure was silly before when I was afraid of her--wasn't I?
And he leans his head on his arms, gazing into the fire, as Vicki watches him, fearful.
Blue Whale - Sam stands in a circle of friends at the bar, laughing drunkenly. Maggie, sitting at a table with Joe, looks immediately worried. Joe turns her face to his and reminds her she's with him. I'm sorry, she tells him. Your father is just having a good time, stop worrying about him, advises Joe--you two-- sometimes you can't tell the difference between the parent and child. I know, I have the same problem, she says. You ought to start doing a little worrying about me, he says in mock seriousness. What's the matter with you? she asks. I might decide to go fishing, he says. Now? she asks. There are plenty of good fish in these waters, he says, and they're getting better everyday. (does that mean now that he's hooked Maggie, he still wants someone else?) Something tells me we're not talking about the kind of fish that swim in the ocean, she says. That's what I love about you, he says, you're so perceptive. He tweaks her nose. She laughs. All right, big fisherman, out with it, she says. You'll never guess who I saw today, he says. I think if I try I might be able to, she says--the town isn't that big. Carolyn Stoddard, he says. So you've been "fishing" up at Collinwood, she says--well that ain't no fish, buddy--it's a giant stone crab--if you want to get your head bitten off again, don't let me stand in your way. I had to go up to Collinwood to get a ledger Mrs. Stoddard had left there, he says. You are sort of a bookish boy, aren't you? she jokes. Carolyn couldn't have been nicer, he says. That must have been a shock, she says. She even indicated that she wouldn't be against our having another go-round together, he says. (why did he feel compelled to tell her that--to brag?) Let me be the first to congratulate you, she says. (is she really that unsure of him?--of their relationship?--sad.) You want to know what I told her? he asks. Can we please change the subject? She asks, unhappy. I told her that I wasn't free anymore, he says. If you're referring to me, she says, I don't see any ropes holding you. You may not see them, he says, kissing her hand and holding it, but they're there. (Awww--I love this guy.) Oh, Joe, sometimes I could crown you, she says. King of hearts, he says. Knave of hearts, she amends.
Sam laughs at the bar, upsetting Maggie again. He's just having a good time, Joe soothes her. Yes, and the more scotch he drinks, the better time he's having, she says grimly. He's had it pretty rough lately, says Joe, he's entitled to a few drinks. There's no such thing as a few drinks with my father, says Maggie--I hope he's not talking about that picture again. You've got to admit, that's a pretty interesting business, says Joe. It gets him so upset, says Maggie, the more upset he gets, the more he drinks, the more he drinks, the more he talks, just a vicious circle. OK, he says, go on over there and see what's happening, I know you're not going to rest until you do. Grinning, she kisses his forehead and thanks him, promising to be right back. I've got a ride back to town for you, Sam tells one of his cronies. Maggie comes over. Hello, Pop, she says. That might be the voice of my daughter, says Sam, putting an arm around Maggie--you might think it is, but really, it's the voice of my conscience--my girl, a few drinks and some congenial friends, there can't be anything wrong with that, can there? I guess not, she says. Good Lord knows, says Sam, I've got enough to forget. Do it, just forget it, she says. I've tried, he says, I can't. He puts a coin into the jukebox and makes a selection. That painting haunts me, he says. Just don't talk about it, that's all, she advises--the fewer people that know about it, the better. Oh, it's too late, he says, pulling a cigarette from a pack, the whole world knows already. What makes you say that? she asks. They're beginning to seek me out to find out what I hear, he says, I think I might make more money if I sold information than I can for my paintings. Who's been to see you? asks Maggie. That Dr. Guthrie, says Sam--he wanted to know about the painting. I hope you didn't tell him anything, says Maggie. I didn't really have to, says Sam, it was more like he was confirming his facts--seemed to know already. I wondered why he was here, says Maggie. He's supposedly here to find out what made Mrs. Stoddard so ill, says Sam. What does that have to do with your painting? asks Maggie. Darned if I know, he says. Let's just stay away from them, please! begs Maggie. That will be a little difficult in this town, says Sam. Try, begs Maggie--there's something strange going on up at Collinwood--I don't know what it is and I don't want to know--it scares me. It makes me kind of curious, says Sam. Pop, please, let's just not get involved, she says. We are involved, he says--my painting--what's it got to do with Elizabeth Stoddard being ill?--and that Dr. Guthrie, I don't understand anything about it--all I know is, I'm in it up to my ears! He makes another song selection and lights his cigarette, but stares at the match for a long second.
Maggie blows it out, giving him a stern look.
Blue Whale - Sam tells Maggie he wants another drink. She asks if he hasn't had enough. They don't make enough! he says, and orders another. Joe sits drinking at a table. A woman passes by. Burke enters and asks Joe if he can join him. Help yourself, says Joe. I've been meaning to talk to you, says Burke--it's about time we declared a truce. Suits me, says Joe. I've got enough enemies in this town without adding to them, says Burke. I'm no enemy of yours, says Joe, the object of our defection is no longer of any interest to me, she's all yours. Isn't that a coincidence, says Burke, I was just about to tell you the same thing. Is that how it is, says Joe. Poor Carolyn, says Burke, must be tough to wake up and discover you're not the belle of the ball anymore. The trouble is, says Joe, she always wanted the things she just couldn't get. Being Mrs. Stoddard's daughter, says Burke, there wasn't much that came under that heading. Joe agrees. Yeah, she was spoiled, he says, it's a shame, too, because she could be a nice girl. I guess I treated her as badly as she treated you, says Burke. I'm glad at least I've got somebody I can depend on now, says Joe--somebody I can turn to when I need her. He points to Maggie up at the bar. That's Maggie, all right, agrees Burke. She returns to the table and tells them not to get up--I'm glad to see the Peace Corps finally caught up to you two, she says, what were you talking about? A wonderful girl--you, says Burke. She laughs. How's your father? asks Joe. He's kind of puzzled, says Maggie, he had a visit from that Dr. Guthrie. Social or professional? asks Joe. That's what he can't figure out, says Maggie--he's been asking all kinds of questions--the kind that aren't any of his business--he's supposed to be here to find out what made Mrs. Stoddard so ill--instead, he wants to know about things that have nothing to do with her. What kind of things? asks Burke. What does this have to do with you? asks Maggie. Come on, he says, you know anything that has to do with Sam or the Collinses involves me. Dr. Guthrie seems pretty curious about that picture Pop keeps painting of Mrs. Collins, says Maggie. What's that got to do with Mrs. Stoddard's illness? Questions Joe. That's exactly my question, says Maggie--it doesn't add up--he also seems quite interested in Mrs. Collins herself. Your Pop's no expert on that, teases Joe, he should have come to Devlin, here. Maggie laughs. I'll let that one slip because we're friends, says Burke, and rises, saying he's going to go offer to buy Sam a drink. That's just what he needs, says Maggie sarcastically. Burke heads to the bar and greets Sam. It's getting so a man can't even enjoy his own company without someone butting in, says Sam, taking a puff on his cigarette. All I want to do is buy you a drink, says Burke. In that case, I'm happy to have you butt in, says Sam. Another one for my friend, Burke asks the bartender, and I'll have bourbon and water. Sam smokes. I hear you had a visitor, says Burke. Yes, very inquisitive fellow, says Sam. Did you tell him anything? asks Burke. I answered all his questions, if that's what you mean, says Sam. You're a fool, says Burke. Sticks and stones, says Sam. Why was he so interested in you? asks Burke. I don't know, says Sam, I'm an artist, he likes my work--he was particularly interested in a painting I did of Laura, being consumed by fire.
He lifts his glass to his lips. Burke looks shocked.
NOTES: So Joe blew off Carolyn in favor of Maggie, and Joe and Burke both learned Carolyn now has no man in her life. Carolyn gave it a try, but you sensed she was just trying to return to a safe haven--but Joe is in another woman's port now, and that's great. He and Maggie seem extremely happy together.
Oh, oh, will Burke run to Laura with info about the Evans-Guthrie connection? If Laura suspects something is going on behind her back, will she step up her efforts to get David to come away with her? She always seems so desperate, as if she's on some kind of deadline, but what, exactly, is it?
Carolyn, Joe, Maggie, Burke, Laura--Collinsport residents playing musical chairs, or would that be musical lovers? Are Burke and Laura doing the deed when the cameras aren't running? Do they go down to the docks to resurrect their torrid passion? Joe is solidly committed to Maggie, but Carolyn tried to get him back. She doesn't really want him, and if she got him, she'd throw him back in the water, like a too small fish. He's wise not to try to go home again.
Episode #167 - Collinwood seems calm in the light of day, but unseen forces, usually the companions of the night, seem to be contending with one another without respite--and there is a feeling at Collinwood that these unseen forces will soon show themselves.
Vicki sits gazing into the fire in the drawing room, relating to Peter Guthrie David's dream. And David said there was no light, she says, he could hear the ocean roaring nearby and so he had the feeling that they were walking along the beach--his mother was holding his hand, and he said he thought they were the only two people on the whole world, and that the world itself was infinite, endless space. Was he frightened? asks Guthrie. No, she says, and that's what frightens me. I see, he says, what then? He began to notice how silent his mother was--and her eyes, he said her eyes were blazing in the dark, and then he saw that they were heading toward a great light that seemed to be quite separate from the darkness they were walking in--and the roaring grew louder, and they came closer and closer--and his mother's eyes were blazing, and then they were running toward the light, and the roaring grew, and grew, and just as they were about to fling themselves into it, he woke up--and that was his dream. I wonder, says Peter, glasses off, I wonder if it was really a dream?
But it had to be a dream, insists Vicki, you don't think David would make up something like that? No, he says, but I'm not sure that it was an actual dream. But he was asleep, says Vicki--what else could it have been? So little is known about the ultimate powers of the mind, says Peter, but it's just possible that in the passive state of sleep, some other force, if it's strong enough, can intrude. Do you think that it was something like a vision? asks Vicki. Yes, says Peter, a vision, maybe. But why couldn't it have just been a dream about David going away with his mother? asks Vicki. It could be that, says Peter, but what puzzles me is David's attitude within the dream. You mean because he wasn't frightened, says Vicki. That's right, says Peter, now, you see, even if he really wanted to go away with his mother, I'm sure he has some anxiety about it, some fears. And the fears should have shown up in the dream? Asks Vicki. Not necessarily, says Guthrie, but given David's own unconscious and his natural sense of inferiority, I doubt he would trust anyone at all the way he trusted his mother in that dream. You think something else caused that dream? Asks Vicki. I think so, says Peter.
But what could it be? asks Vicki. that's what I have to find out, he says.
Cottage - Please! Laura begs Roger, I want my son--I need him!--give him to me now--please, you have no idea how much I need him!--let me have him before it's too late, please! (where's the love?) Roger, wearing a turtleneck, assures her she'll have him soon enough. I want him now, immediately! She says. That's impossible, he says. Not impossible, she insists, all you have to do is give the word! I can't give it, not now, he says. Please, she begs, I don't have much time. You keep saying that, he says--what do you mean, you don't have much time, it doesn't make sense! I just mean that it's nothing, just that if Liz comes back, she'll make me leave without David, you know she will. You know as well as I do, in all likelihood, it's going to be some time before Liz comes back here, he says. How do you know that? she asks--she could recover just as quickly as she became ill; after all, this state she's in can end just as unpredictably as it stared. (does that mean she has no control over it?) Are you sure that's what you meant when you said you didn't have much time? queries Roger. Of course, she says, looking at him, what else could I have meant? I don't know, he says, but I have a feeling it's something else. Please, she says, I just can't stand much more of this--I have got to have David! What I don't understand is what brought this on, says Roger, all this panic all of a sudden. Is it really that hard to understand? asks Laura. Yes, he says, self-control as always one of your admirable, if not unsettling attributes. I am a mother who wants her son, says Laura. And you seem well on the way to getting him, says Roger, but why this change all of a sudden--all at once, you're panicked and frightened, you used to be the epitome of patience. I've been patient long enough, she says--why can't I have him now? You know the answer to that as well as I do, he says. You're his father, says Laura, Liz can't stop you legally, even if she were here she couldn't. Yes, he agrees, but she has, shall we say, other means of influence. All right, she says, I have an idea--let me have David now, without being a legal guardian--you'll still have control--then if Liz wants me to bring him back, I will--I promise you, I will. I really don't understand why you persist in this, he says, what has happened to make you so impatient? Nothing, she says, I'll bring him back if I have to, I promise you, Roger, I have never begged you before--I'm begging you now! I'm sorry, he says. All right, she says, then I think perhaps I should mention one small thing--what would you say if I were to mention the word "manslaughter" to Burke Devlin? (gloves are off!) Go ahead, he says. What? she asks. I said go ahead, he says. She's stunned.
I will go to Burke, I'm warning you, she says, rising from the sofa. I will not be intimidated, he tells her. You think I won't do it, she says. I know you won't, he says. I'll turn state's witness and I will get away with everything, she says, they will charge me with nothing. You would have to confess to perjury, he says, and that, my dear, would have some effect on a custody case, you wouldn't have a prayer of getting David and you know it. She realizes he's right. All right, she says, you win, for now. Good, he says sarcastically. Promise me one thing, she says. You've hardly put me in the mood to promise anything, he says. Begin legal proceedings now, she says, divorce and custody. Why? he asks. Because they take time, she says, so much time! Once I consent to the custody of David, it will take no time at all, Roger assures her. Do it now, she orders. I'll do it when I see fit, he says. Then you won't help me, she says. I have been helping you, he reminds her, I've given you every opportunity to win David on your side, and you've almost done it. Don't you understand? she asks, I have to take him away with me soon, if I don't, Carolyn and Vicki...I hate to say this, but they're trying to turn David against me. Sometimes I think you're on the verge of relapse, he says. Don't be ridiculous, she retorts, David will never really be mine until I get him away from this place. I'm afraid you'll have to prove your suitability for motherhood, he says, lifting his coat from a chair, with a greater show of patience.
I have been patient! she insists. Be more patient, he advises. I can't be, she says. Let's face it, he says, you haven't any choice--and neither have I. He leaves the cottage. She looks miserable.
Drawing room - How are you going to find out what caused David's dream? Vicki asks Peter. By contacting someone who may be able to tell us, he says--you felt all along that you've been receiving messages, clues, whatever, from the spirit of Josette Collins, haven't you? I feel fairly certain I have, agrees Vicki. But so far all she's been able to give you are hints, he says--that's probably because she lacks the power to do more. What do you intend to do? she asks. Give her more power, he says. But how? she asks. By not waiting for her to contact us, but by contacting her, as directly as possible, he says. In a seance? asks Vicki. Yes, says Guthrie. What's this about a seance? asks Carolyn, entering the room. Dr. Guthrie thinks he can contact Josette, says Vicki. Or someone who may be able to help us, says Peter. I don't know, I'm not even sure I believe in that sort of thing, says Carolyn. (what happened to it being a gas?) Fortunately for themselves, spirits don't depend on us for their existence, says Peter. But the idea, says Carolyn--it frightens me. Because you do believe, in a way? he asks. Maybe, she says, I know there's something frightening here, and the idea of getting closer to it... The more we know, the more we'll be able to help your mother, says Guthrie. And you think a seance might help? she asks. We won't know until we try, he says. Will I have to be there? She asks. I think we all should be there, says Peter. Not David, please! says Vicki, it would frighten him so! David might be the one person who could make the necessary contact, says Peter. Can't we at least try without him? Vicki asks. Well... says Guthrie doubtfully. With Mrs. Stoddard gone, says Vicki, David is my responsibility; he's already been made so upset by the things that have happened. I guess we can give it a try, Guthrie agrees. But you do think the rest of us should be there, says Carolyn. Definitely, replies Peter. Even my Aunt Laura and Uncle Roger? Carolyn asks. Yes, very definitely, he says. I don't think you'll be able to persuade them to do it, says Carolyn. We must persuade them, says Guthrie. It's for your mother's sake, Vicki reminds her--they can't very well refuse to help her, can they? No, says Carolyn, of course not--I just wish there were some other way, not a seance--the air seems so troubled, even now--I can feel it--who knows who's here with us--now, in this room? She looks around nervously.
The whole idea is preposterous and idiotic, says Roger, predictably, to Dr. Guthrie as Carolyn and Vicki stand by. And very necessary, insists the doctor. I refuse to play these parlor games! rants Roger. I can assure you, this will be no parlor game, says Guthrie. A seance, indeed! Says Roger--I've indulged this family enough with its superstitions as it is, but this is going too far! But if there's a possibility it might help Mother, cajoles Carolyn. Help your mother?--why not dance a voodoo dance around the hospital table? demands Roger--chanting semi-guttural noises? (I'd like to see that.) I can tell you, says Guthrie, that I feel a seance is the one real contribution I can make to this entire case.
I congratulate you, says Roger--it is the first succinct confession of quackery I have ever heard. It is not quackery, says Vicki, we can't ignore what's been going on here! I'm aware that you've never cared for my ideas, says Peter to Roger. These are not ideas, says Roger, ideas are the product of the human mind!--this is a product of irrational superstition. I know that you're anxious to have me leave Collinwood, says Peter, well there is one way you can hasten my departure. A simple request, perhaps? Asks Roger. (LOL!) If the seance fails, there will be no reason for me to stay on, says Guthrie. Oh? asks Roger. Once the seance is over, begins Peter. You'll forget this foolishness? Asks Roger. I'll have no choice, says Peter. Well, then let's do it at once! says Roger eagerly--come along, girls, let's gather 'round. (so subtle.) Uncle Roger, says Carolyn, he's only trying to help! says Carolyn. I'm not sure when the time will be right, says Guthrie, but I'll let you know. When do you think it will be? asks Roger. Soon, promises Peter, very likely--you'll participate? I think I should, replies Roger, I think somebody should be present who has a firm hold on their sanity. Good, that's settled then, says Peter--I'll let you know when the exact time will be. Carolyn thanks him and Vicki volunteers to show him to the door. (wasn't he supposed to stay at Collinwood?) He follows Vicki out. Carolyn chastises Roger--He's only trying to help my mother, and the only thing you can do is be rude. Oh, Kitten, please, says Roger, I've agreed to your simple little pleasures, isn't that enough? I wonder if he wants us to talk to Aunt Laura about it or if he'd prefer to do it himself? Asks Carolyn. Do you really expect Laura to join in on this lunacy? asks Roger--(Vicki rejoins them) you must be out of your mind!--I wouldn't consider it--he looks up at the ceiling--I'll be in my room if you want me, he says, just tap on the night table--seance indeed, he mumbles, I've never heard anything so ridiculous in my life. He leaves the room. Do you know what? asks Carolyn--I think the real reason Uncle Roger is objecting is because the idea of a seance frightens him, just as it does me. Do you really think your Aunt Laura will refuse? asks Vicki. Of course she will, predicts Carolyn, and we won't even have the argument we used with Uncle Roger--that it might help Mother. I don't know... says Vicki. Of course you know! says Carolyn, you know as well as I do that Aunt Laura probably had something to do with my mother's illness--she was the last person to see her--if she hadn't done anything wrong, why did she lie about that? I don't know, says Vicki. I've a good mind to go right down to that cottage now and tell her to get out, says Carolyn. You can't do that! says Vicki. Can't I? asks Carolyn--I want her to know that we know she's been lying. But what would it accomplish? Asks Vicki. I'd have the satisfaction of seeing the expression on her face when I told her, says Carolyn smugly. Listen to me, begs Vicki as Carolyn rushes to prepare to leave the house. Not if you're going to try to talk me out of it, says Carolyn. Shouldn't we know a little bit more before we let her know that we suspect her? asks Vicki. Carolyn slips into her coat. I'm not going to tell her we suspect her, says Carolyn, I just want her to know we know she lied about having seen Mother. But Dr. Guthrie was we shouldn't say anything, Vicki reminds her. Carolyn buttons up. And considering what's happened to your mother, says Vicki, I don't think it would be very wise to know that you suspect, too. I'm not afraid of her, says Carolyn firmly. Neither was your mother, says Vicki. Stop trying to scare me out of it, says Carolyn. I'm not trying to scare you, insists Vicki. Yes you are, too, says Carolyn, I refuse to be frightened of that woman--I absolutely refuse--she's nothing to be afraid of--nothing at all. And to Vicki's consternation, Carolyn leaves the house.
We see Laura's eyes superimposed over fire. Carolyn's knock brings her out of her flaming reverie. Who is it? asks Laura. It's me, says Carolyn--is it all right if I come in? Yes of course, says Laura--what is it? I was out taking a walk, says Carolyn, and I didn't realize how cold it was--would you mind lending me a scarf? Of course not, says Laura, and gets her one out of a drawer. I'd forgotten how comfortable the cottage is, says Carolyn. Yes, it is very comfortable, isn't it? asks Laura. Of course, if I lived here, says Carolyn, I'd get a little lonesome. Sometimes it is lonesome, agrees Laura. I'm sure, says Carolyn, but there are times when it's not lonely, right? Right, agrees Laura, for instance, the other night when David stayed here, it was almost like a real home. Carolyn looks out the window and remarks, "Of course, you do have a nice view of the grounds--you know what?--I was just thinking..." Laura holds out a scarf--will this be all right? she asks. "...it's too bad you weren't looking out the window the night of the big storm," says Carolyn. That's not likely, says Laura, I'm afraid of storms. (yeah, water douses fire.) I don' blame you, says Carolyn. I don't blame you, says Carolyn, but you might have seen my mother It was so dark, says Laura, I doubt very much that you could see a thing. Carolyn walks around the room. I guess you're right, she says, but I can't help wishing that someone had seen her just before she got sick--it might help us know what's wrong with her (reel her in slowly, Carolyn.) I thought you wanted this, says Laura, still holding out the scarf. Isn't it strange that my mother didn't come here when she storm began? asks Carolyn, looking Laura right in the face. No, I don't think so, says Laura--she was probably closer to the house. I don't think so, says Carolyn. Oh?--what makes you think that? asks Laura. Oh, just a feeling, I guess, says Carolyn, shrugging slightly. I'm awfully sorry, says Laura, moving away from Carolyn's scrutiny, but I was just about to take a nap. I still have a feeling my mother was very close to here, as a matter of fact, says Carolyn, that she was actually inside--right here in this room. All right, says Laura, the affable expression leaving her face--if you have something to say, says it and leave! Why did you lie about it? demands Carolyn. About what? asks Laura shrilly. Why did you say my mother wasn't here? asks Carolyn. Who said she was here? asks Laura. Burke Devlin told Vicki he saw her here, says Carolyn--why didn't you say anything about it? I think that when I was asked, says Laura, it slipped my mind. uh-huh, says Carolyn. I hardly think it was worth mentioning, says Laura--let's see, what was it?--she was out for a walk, the storm came up, she stopped by here to see if I wouldn't be more comfortable up at the house, when I told her I was fine, she left--now, that's hardly worth mentioning. Uh-huh, says Carolyn, nodding. And certainly not worth discussing, says Laura. I wasn't DISCUSSING anything, says Carolyn.
I wouldn't discuss it with anyone else if I were you, advises (threatens?) Laura--is that clear? I'd say it was very clear, replies Carolyn, turning and walking toward the door. Carolyn, says Laura, do you want this or don't you?--she holds out the scarf. I don't think I need it now, says Carolyn--it's funny how fast the weather changes--don't you think it's funny? And she leaves the cottage. Laura's eyes widen with fury
NOTES: So, now Carolyn has informed Laura that she knows she saw Liz the night she got "sick". Laura has already warned Carolyn to keep it to herself, but we know she won't. We also know that Laura now feels exposed and probably wonders/fears what else Burke said. Did he explain why Liz got so angry, that she caught Laura and Burke in a compromising position? Burke did NOT tell Vicki exactly what Liz walked in on that day, just that he was there.
Laura is thwarted, for now, at least, in her campaign to get David to go away with her immediately. She acts so desperate; what is her deadline? We sense it's drawing near, and she's got to get David free of his ties to Collinwood ASAP.
Laura looked as if she were spell-casting before Carolyn came to the door--what was she up to?
Weird how much David has changed, and for the better. From a murderous monster, he now has become a boy that Carolyn and Vicki want to protect--but Roger still wants to be rid of.
Roger is so droll. His reactions to Guthrie's desire for a seance are very funny. The way he wanted to hold it right there, just to get rid of Guthrie, was truly wonderful. I loved his scene with Laura, too, when she threatened him with blackmail in Burke's manslaughter trial and he pointed out that she had much to lose, too. They really do have each other over a barrel, and frankly, I think they deserve one another!
Love, Robin
