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

Episode #162 - Collinwood, even by day, is shrouded in mysteries, mysteries that seem to touch on the unseen, and the unknown. A stranger has come to Collinwood, a man who may be able to solve these mysteries, and the life of one member of the Collins family depends on what he is able to find out.

Vicki opens the door of Collinwood to Dr. Guthrie. Any news on Mrs. Stoddard? he asks. Yes, says Vicki, Roger phoned the hospital in Boston last night, she's not any better--all the tests they've made on her have been unsuccessful--they still don't know what's wrong with her. I'm sorry to hear that, he says, but I can't say it surprises me. You still think she's under some kind of trance? asks Vicki. As unlikely as it seems, he says, yes. Then may I ask you a question? she asks--do you really think Mrs. Collins is responsible in some way for what's happened to Mrs. Stoddard? It's a possibility, he says. I'm asking this because I'm in a very awkward position, says Vicki--Mrs. Stoddard told me to keep David away from his mother--I don't know if I can do that, I don't even know if it's right--she is David's mother. You want my opinion? he asks--if I were you, I'd do everything in my power to keep that boy away from Laura Collins. Vicki stares at him, unsure.

Then you do suspect Mrs. Collins? asks Vicki. I couldn't go that far, he says. But you just said... she reminds him. Let me just clarify what I said, he says--I had two facts at my disposal--the first is the presence in this house of a force, a force so strong that it put Mrs. Troddard--Mrs. Stoddard into a trance. But you don't know what it is, says Vicki. All I know, he says, the force (may it be with you) is so strongly opposed to Mrs. Stoddard that it superimposed itself on her will--which leads me to the second fact--from everything I've been able to figure out, the greatest source of friction in this house is between Mrs. Stoddard and Mrs. Collins--I would like to get to know Mrs. Collins and find out more about her. I hope you do, says Vicki--there's so much about her I don't understand. Guthrie removes his glasses and asks if she minds if he asks her some questions. Not at all! she assures him, sitting on the sofa. He joins her. Frank Garner filled me in pretty well, says Guthrie--he explained to me your compulsion to go to the crypt, and what you found there--the succession of L. Murdochs, all of whom died in fire. That was very strange, says Vicki. Could you tell me about this compulsion, describe it to me? he asks. It was as though I had no will of my own, she explains, as though something else were driving me. And you feel that this something else was the spirit of Josette Collins? he asks. I'm sure of it, she says, because whenever I had one of these compulsions, there was always the same scent in the air--jasmine. How do you relate this scent to Josette? he asks. When she appeared to me in the Old House, I smelled the jasmine then, she says. And you're absolutely certain you saw a manifestation? asks Guthrie. I know I saw Josette, says Vicki. Anybody else seen her? he asks. David has, says Vicki. Would you call David a highly imaginative child? asks Guthrie. Well, I, yes, I suppose so, says Vicki, uncomfortable at his implications. And of course he's grown up at Collinwood, so he'd have heard all the legends, points out Guthrie, and that may very well affect his imagination. David may be imagining things, says Vicki, but I'm not--I know that I saw Josette--I do think she's responsible for these compulsions--in fact, I think she's trying to tell me something about Mrs. Collins. (go with that, Vicki!)

Cottage - Would you like to come here and stay overnight with me? Laura asks David. They are, of course, sitting by the fire. I guess so--what would we do? he asks. Anything you want, she promises. Would you tell me stories? he asks. Mmm-hmm, she says--I know lots of wonderful stories! And could we have a fire? he asks. Yes, he says. Could I build it? he asks. Yes, of course, she laughs. OK then I'll stay, he says. I'm glad you want to, she says. Miss Winters will probably make a fuss about it, though, says David. Have you mentioned it to her? Laura asks calculatingly. Not yet, he says, but I know exactly what she's going to say--she'll say I have to stay home and do homework--she's gotten pretty strict. I'm sure she's just doing her best, says Laura. She was never this strict before, says David. She's probably just doing what she thinks she ought to do, says Laura. I'm glad you're not that way, says David. Maybe that's because I'm your mother and understand you better than Miss Winters does, hm? asks Laura. I'm glad you're my mother, says David, smiling. Are you, dear? she asks. Yes, he says, you don't scold me or boss me around. She caresses his hair and asks if he's given anymore thought to going away with her. Yes I have, he says. What have you decided? she asks. I'm not sure, he admits. Don't you want to go? she asks. I think so, he says, shrugging, but...I'm not so sure I want to leave Collinwood--I like it here, I know all sorts of secret hiding places where I can play--and if I go away, I won't have secret hiding places. But you'll have other things, she assures him--believe me, you'll like it where I want to take you, David--oh, you really will like it. Maybe, he says.I'm not going to force you to make a decision now, she says, but you must make one soon--(her voice changes to one tinged with evil)--we haven't got much time.

Guthrie looks out the drawing room window. David returns, calling to Vicki. Guthrie closes the window. She's gone outside to look for you, Guthrie tells him. Who are you? asks David. My name is Guthrie, says the doctor, shaking David's hand--I'm here because of your Aunt Elizabeth. Are you a doctor? asks David. Yes, says Guthrie, you must be David. That's right, says the boy. I've been looking forward to meeting you, says Guthrie--I've heard a very great deal about you--I understand you've seen a ghost. Who told you? asks David. Miss Winters, Guthrie replies. It's true, I have, lots of times, says David. I believe you, says Guthrie. You do? asks David, excited. Yes, certainly, I believe in the existence of such things, says the doctor. You're not like most people, says David, most people make fun of me whenever I talk about them. I'm not going to make fun of you, says Guthrie--I believe in ghosts. Why? asks David. Because I'm interested, says Guthrie--you know, my favorite stories are ghost stories? Mine, too, says David--have you ever seen a ghost? No, but I hope to someday, says Guthrie. Do you really believe in them? asks David. I do, says Guthrie--would you tell me about the ghosts you've seen? OK, agrees David, and drags a hassock right close to Guthrie's knees and sits on it. I've seen the ghost of Mr. Malloy, he says, he was real tall, had seaweed all over him--he was scary, and I've seen the ghost of Josette Collins lots of times, bubbles David. Was she scary, too? asks Guthrie. Not scary, says David, just sad. Do you suppose that she might appear to me? asks Guthrie. If you believe, says David--she doesn't appear to anybody that doesn't believe. I qualify, says Guthrie. It would be great if we could get her to appear, says David, why don't we go to the Old House?--that's where she usually appears. I can't think of anything I'd like to do better, says Guthrie. OK, I'll go get my coat, says David. Vicki enters. I see you two have met, she says. Yes, we've been having a very nice chat, says Guthrie--David is taking me to the Old House. He believes in ghosts--he told me, says David. Where have you been, I've been looking all over for you? asks Vicki. I was...with my mother, he admits. I thought I told you to finish your homework, says Vicki. My mother wanted to see me, says David--that's more important than any old schoolwork. When you come back from the Old House, you've got to finish it, says Vicki. I can't, says David, I'm going to visit my mother and she's going to tell me stories--and I'm going to stay overnight there--and you can't stop me. We'll see about that, says Vicki. What are you going to do? asks David. Have a talk with your mother, says Vicki. I don't think it will do any good, insists David--she already said I could stay over. We'll see, says Vicki. Shall we go, David? asks Guthrie,. OK, says David, but you've got to promise me one thing--that you won't get scared, no matter what happens. I promise, he says. OK, says David, let's go. They depart, Vicki looking worriedly after them. (David really is defiant about his mother. Vicki has her work cut out for her.)

Old House - Birds chirp. We focus on Josette's portrait and the cobweb-covered chandelier. David and Guthrie enter. This is it, says David. How old is this house? asks Guthrie, amazed. Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years old (an exaggeration), says David. Who lived here? asks Guthrie. My grandfather, says David--my great, great, great grandfather--his name was Jeremiah Collins--Josette was his wife. Must have been a spectacular place in its day, remarks Guthrie. I like it the way it is now, says David proudly--it's real spooky. Yeah, says Guthrie, I agree with you. Come on, I'll show you Josette Collins, says David, and leads him to the portrait--that's her painting. She was very beautiful, says the doctor (how can he tell?). She was even more beautiful than that, says David. Describe her to me, says Guthrie. She wears a veil and a long long white dress, says David--and there's this funny perfume smell in the air whenever she's nearby. What kind of perfume? asks Guthrie. I don't know, it's real sweet, says David. Like the smell of jasmine? asks Guthrie. I guess so, says David. I see, says Guthrie, looking around the rest of the room--why would she haunt this house, do you know? I think it's the way she died, says David--she killed herself--jumped off the cliff at Widows' Hill. Why? asks Guthrie. Nobody really knows, says David--I think it was because she was lonely--I feel sorry for her. She doesn't scare you the least bit? asks Guthrie. No, she never did anything to make me scared, says David, she was always nice to me. Do you feel like she wants to protect you? asks Guthrie. I know she does, says David, that's why I can't figure out why she won't appear to us, now that I need her so much--I have to ask her some questions, make a very important decision--I have to know whether I should leave Collinwood--go away with my mother.Both of them stare up at the painting as though waiting for an answer.

Laura sits beside the fire in her cottage. Vicki knocks, but it takes Laura a while to come out of her trance and answer the door. I hope I'm not disturbing you, says Vicki. Not at all, says Laura, won't you come in?--What can I do for you? It's about David, says Vicki, he's falling behind in his schoolwork again--I've spoken to him about it, but it didn't do any good--something has to be done. I couldn't agree more, says Laura--I'll speak to him again. He told me that he wants to spend the night down here, says Vicki. That's right, says Laura--what about it? I don't think it would be a very good idea, says Vicki. Why not? asks Laura. Because he wouldn't get his schoolwork done, says Vicki. He'll do it here, says Laura. Will he? asks Vicki. I'll see to it that he does, says Laura. He'll have to get up very early in the morning in order to put in a good day, says Vicki. I'll see to it that he gets up early in the morning, promises Laura. All right, says Vicki, out of excuses. I am quite capable of taking care of David myself, Laura assures her. I'm sure you are, says Vicki. Then what's wrong? asks Laura. It's just that David has been spending so much time here, and not enough on his schoolwork. (sounds lame, Vicki.) I just told you, I'll correct that situation, says Laura. I know what you said, Vicki tells her. I'm sure you know by now that I'm a very straightforward person, says Laura. So am I, says Vicki. Then be straightforward now, says Laura--you're interested in more than David's studies--you want to keep him away from me--isn't that the truth?

I asked you a question, I'd appreciate an answer, demands Laura. It's a very difficult question to answer, says Vicki. You do want to keep me away from David--why? demands Laura. I know I have no right to keep you two apart, says Vicki. That's right, you don't, says Laura--David is my son. It's just that I have my instructions, says Vicki, and David is my responsibility. I know all about Liz' instructions, says Laura bitterly, I know when she issued them and why. Mrs. Stoddard was afraid that something about you was disturbing to David, says Vicki. But that's no longer the case--he wants to be with me now, says Laura--if Liz were here, she'd have no logical reason for keeping us apart. Maybe not, says Vicki. I'm disappointed in you, says Laura--you were so kind to me when I first came here, so helpful in bringing David closer to me. I tried to be, says Vicki. But you're not trying now, accuses Laura--there's a change in your attitude--what's caused it? I don't know that anything has changed my attitude, demurs Vicki. Something has, insists Laura. I'm just trying to carry out my instructions, says Vicki. If you're wise, you'll forget your instructions, says Laura. I'm sorry, but I can't, says Vicki. You'd better, murmurs Laura. (an out and out threat?) WHAT? asks Vicki, stunned. I do not want interference form you, says Laura. I've tried very hard not to interfere, says Vicki. Then try harder, advises Laura--here's a word of advice--don't try to come between David and me--it wouldn't be wise--in fact, it would be very unwise.She gives Vicki a half smile filled with malice.

Old House - Well, David, says Guthrie, it looks to me like Josette Collins isn't going to appear. She can't, says David--we're both in the same room--she never appears to more than one person at a time. She doesn't? asks Guthrie. No, says David, never has. Then I guess we'd better split up, suggests Guthrie. That's what I was thinking, says David. Do the ghosts appear in any of the other rooms? asks Guthrie. Sometimes, says David. I think I'll take a look around, says Guthrie, why don't you stay here?--I won't be long. OK agrees David. I won't be gone long, just a few minutes, Guthrie says--you won't go away, will you? No, I'll stay right here, promises David--I like it here. Guthrie heads upstairs. David turns to the portrait and speaks plaintively. Josette, we're alone now, he says, why don't you appear to me--I want to ask you some questions--please, I want to know whether or not I should be with my mother, or leave Collinwood--I want to be with my mother but I don't want to leave my friends--please, can't you tell me what to do?--can't you make some sign? He turns away, disappointed, then sniffs the air--jasmine! I smell your perfume, he says--you're here, you're going to tell me what to do! He stands on a chair, gazing up at the portrait, excitedly repeating over and over, "You're going to tell me what to do!"The portrait glows, and in its place, we see Sam's painting of Laura and David, burning in flames! That's my picture! he cries.

NOTES: Josette is sending David a clear message of warning; will he get it? If he tells anyone about this, especially Vicki or Guthrie, there's no doubt that they will have another piece of the puzzle needed to keep David away from his mother forever.

Laura is getting downright nasty with Vicki--she even threatened her! Poor Vicki can't stand up to Laura, who is not only older and more knowing, but possessed of God knows what powers. Vicki had better be careful, or she'll end up in Coma Central with poor Liz.

Henesy is such an excellent actor. Even though Dr. Guthrie slipped up on some of his lines today, I enjoyed his scenes with David. Maybe it's those terrible glasses, but he looks so competent!


Episode #163 - These are strange days at Collinwood, days in which wonder and terror blend in equal amounts to create something that does not seem to be of this world. And for a young boy, the barrier between what is real and what is not rapidly disappears.

Guthrie calls to David, who turns away from the portrait--which switches back to that of Josette. I've been looking for you, calls Guthrie, off-camera (didn't he tell him in yesterday's ep to wait for him in the drawing room?) He finds David standing on the chair and asks what's the matter. Where is it? asks David desperately--what happened to it? What happened to what? asks Guthrie. My painting, wails David, it's gone! But the picture's still there! points out Guthrie. Not that one, says David, the other one, my painting. Calm down, take it easy, says Guthrie. They're always taking it away from me, rants David, but it's mine!--mine! What picture? asks Guthrie. The picture of my mother, says David, and now me, too, it was there where Josette is, when you called, I turned around, and they must have taken it away again. Nobody's taken anything out of this room, says Guthrie, you and I are the only ones here. Didn't you see it? says David. I saw no picture of you and your mother--none at all, says Guthrie. David jumps off the chair and both stare up at Josette's portrait.

Guthrie puts comforting hands on David's shoulders and urges him to get hold of himself--tell me all about it, but slowly, don't get excited, just start at the beginning and tell me more about this picture you saw. They sit on crates. It was the same picture that was in my room, explains David--only different--it was a picture of my mother--it scared me sometimes, but mostly I loved it. Why should it ever scare you? asks Guthrie. It moved towards me once, says David. You're going to have to be clearer than that if I'm to understand what you mean, says Guthrie. Her face--my mother's face--it came right out of the picture, came toward me, closer and closer, and closer! Says David, agitated. All right, says Guthrie as David starts to cry, take it easy, slow down--he pats his shoulder and rises, looking up at the portrait, giving David time to compose himself. How do you feel now? asks the doctor. Better, thanks, says David. Why don't you tell me a little more about this picture, says Guthrie. It was my mother, explains David, and there was a whole lot of fire all around her--behind her, all around her--it was like she was rising right out of the flames. I see, says Guthrie--is that all? There was one other thing, says David, it looked like it wasn't finished--there was this space that was empty, like something belonged there but was left out--but it was different today--the space was filled--by me--I was in the picture with my mother--it was like the space had always been waiting for me, like I'd always been in there--only I could never see it before!

Cottage - I can't do a thing, Laura complains to Roger--they're trying to tie my hands. Do you think it's any better for me? asks Roger--sitting on her sofa, nobody pays the slightest attention to my wishes--it's almost like being a poor relation.We're just going to have to find a way to use it to our advantage, says Laura. Yes, but how? he asks--Liz has these girls bound to her by a series of revolting promises. We'll find a way to get around them, says Laura. Have you seen Carolyn? asks Roger--all of a sudden, she's a tycoon, it's as though they made a duplicate copy of Liz. That's all right, says Laura, as long as she's busy with the business, she won't be any trouble to us--the important thing is David--I've got to have more time to win him over. What's stopping you? asks Roger. Vicki, says Laura. Yes, says Roger darkly, I admit, Liz has brainwashed her. You've got to do something about it, says Laura--you're David's father. What can I do about it? he asks. Liz isn't here and she's in no condition to know who's doing what, says Laura viciously, I want my son! I want you to have him, but what's the next move? demands Roger. Getting around Vicki, says Laura, I've already had an argument with her about David--as soon as I start to make progress with him, she interferes. Surely she can't stop you from seeing him, says Roger. No, I've been able to get around that, says Laura. You're just going to have to be patient, he says, obviously it's going to take you a little longer than you thought. I've asked Vicki to let him come over and spend the night, she says, she refused--that's all I need--one night alone with him and you'll never be troubled by him again--because he'll belong to me--completely! (sinister bitch--probably has to perform some ceremony on the poor child.)

Yes, I think that would be a very good thing, agrees Roger--let David spend the night with you and then he would get used to your taking care of him. Exactly, says Laura. Well, why not? asks Roger. What about Vicki? asks Laura. I'll take care of Vicki, Roger assures her. And Liz? asks Laura. Liz is hardly in any condition to be told about this now, says Roger--when she gets back from the hospital, it will all be over, except the shouting--though she did promise that if David genuinely wanted to go with you, she wouldn't oppose him--hm--what a homecoming that's going to be! Sometimes I think the only reason you want me to have David is because it will irritate Liz, accuses Laura. (bingo, and that sucks--besides, he just doesn't want the kid.) Do my motivations really matter? asks Roger. No, not really, says Laura. We understand each other so well, says Roger--it's a wonder we could never make a go of our marriage. That's because we understand each other TOO well, she says. It was because you encouraged another man, that made me jealous, he says. No it didn't, she says, that's not true at all--it hurt your pride--you only wanted me because Burke wanted me--winning me was the only thing in which you ever beat him. Why did you want me? asks Roger. Because I thought I'd like the kind of life you could give me, she says--I thought I'd enjoy being a Collins of Collinsport. (take a sip of your drink!) And then of course, she reminds him, we were accomplices at Burke's trial. Yes, says Roger, perjury does make strange bedfellows, doesn't it? (co-conspirators who deserve each other, both wretches!) David runs in to tell Laura he has something tremendous to tell her. What is it? she asks. I saw my painting again, he says. That's impossible! says Roger. I did, says David--at the Old House. I've told you a hundred times not to go to that place alone, says Roger. I wasn't alone, says David. And Vicki shouldn't take you there, either, says Roger. I wasn't with Miss Winters, says David--I was with Dr. Guthrie--he wanted to see the Old House--and Josette. And did he? asks Laura. No, she wouldn't appear, says David. And that's where you saw the picture of me down there? Laura asks. Yes, says David, it was where Josette's is. What did Dr. Guthrie say about it? asks Laura. He didn't see it, says David. If it was there, why didn't he? asks Roger sarcastically. Well, says David, I was standing in the room alone and then he called me and it disappeared. How did you feel about that? asks Laura. Awful, says David, I felt even worse than when they first took it away from me--I felt like crying, and I'm sure I would have if Dr. Guthrie hadn't been there. That settles it, says Roger angrily, rising from his chair--I'm going to have a talk with the good doctor! It's not his fault, says David. Where is he now? asks Roger. I guess he's at the Old House, says David. That's where I'm headed for, says Roger. Laura joins him at the door. Did you mean what you said? asks Laura anxiously--about arranging for David to spend the night here? I've already told you yes, he reminds her. Fine--that's all I wanted to know, she says, opening the door for him. He leaves. David is gazing into the fire; she joins him, sitting beside him. Here we are at long last, she says--what shall we do?--would you like to play a game--or how about some cookies and milk? There was something about the picture, he says. I do wish you'd forget about that old thing, she says. It was different from the way it used to be, he says--I was in it--down in that corner, you know the one that was empty?--that's where I was painted in--what do you suppose it can mean? run away, David, now!) I'm not sure I know, she says. (sure you do.) Sure is a puzzle, says David. Maybe it just means you want to be with me forever, just as in the painting, she says--oh, David, that would be so nice!--wouldn't you like that, darling? He looks down, not replying.

Laura smoothes back David's hair. You would like to spend the night here, wouldn't you? she asks him. I guess so, he says--but what about my father? He's already given his permission for you to stay, she says. I guess it doesn't matter much to him anyway, says David resentfully. It matters a great deal to me, Laura assures him, in fact, I'd like to have you stay not just overnight, but always. She pats his knee. That's a long time, he says. A very long time, she says, we'd go far away--how would you like to see the desert?--it's so beautiful, at sunset, it's as if the whole sky is bursting with bright red flames. I'd like to see it, but--leave here forever?--I don't know, he says. Wouldn't you like to leave Collin(s)wood? she asks--there's so many things to see--so much to do that you can't do here--there's a whole world! I'd miss Aunt Elizabeth, says David. Yes, but she has her child--Carolyn--says Laura--and I'd like to have mine--you. But what about Miss Winters--what would become of her? asks David. (he likes her!) Miss Winters is a strong, healthy girl, says Laura, and someday she'll marry and have children of her own. But until then, she'll lose her job, points out David. She'll find another one, points out Laura--where there will be another little boy that she'll have to love just as much as you. (low blow, Laura!) Not as much, says David sadly. Darling, it's her job! says Laura. I still think she's my real friend, says David. Of course she's your real friend, says Laura, she has to be the real friend of any little boy she's hired to take care of. I still think she likes me more than anybody else, he insists. (awww!) Let's not talk about it anymore, she suggests--why don't you tell me about your new friend, Dr. Guthrie, hm? He's very nice, but not so smart, says David. Why do you say that? asks Laura. Because he has to ask so many questions, says David--about Collinwood, and the Old House, about everybody who's ever lived here--he was very interested in your picture. This concerns Laura. He was? she asks. Yes, a lot, says David. I wonder what he wants to know? asks Laura. I think everything, says David. Dr. Guthrie certainly is very curious, remarks Laura.I don't know why, says David, why is he so interested the Old House? I don't know, says Laura. I don't understand some things, says David. I don't either, says Laura--I don't understand it at all.

Old House - Guthrie gazes up at Josette's painting. Roger enters, walking quietly up behind him. I see you're as interested in our ancestors as you are in us, says Roger.  Sometimes a bit more, says Guthrie. The place is crawling with them, says Roger--ancestors, ancestors, wherever you look. Yes, you certainly have a fascinating set of forbears, says Guthrie. I did not come here to discuss them, says Roger, I came to discuss my son--I do not want you to be around him. Oh--why not? asks the doctor. David is a very high strung boy, says Roger, given to all kinds of fantasies--we've done our best to try to discourage him and you are Encouraging him! In what way? asks Guthrie. You know very well in what way, says Roger--all this business about Josette and the portrait--it's all in his mind, and you make him dwell on it. That may be the best way to get it out of his mind, opines Guthrie--let him understand it fully. I'm the judge of what is best for David, he's my son, insists Roger. I'm only trying to get at a few facts, says Guthrie. These are not facts, says Roger, they're figments of his imagination. You're in no position to be certain of that, says Guthrie. I'm in a position to know this much, says Roger firmly--I'm David's father, his legal guardian--me, not my niece, or my sister, or anyone else--and as long as that is the case, you will not see him! What does your wife think about this? queries Guthrie. I don't know why that should interest you at all, says Roger. Well it does, replies Guthrie, she interest me a great deal--a very great deal. Roger regards him with contempt.

Laura sits staring into the fire at the cottage and as usual, doesn't hear the knock at her door. She finally goes to answer--it's Dr. Guthrie, who introduces himself to her, explaining that he's wanted to meet her. I was just thinking about you, she says, wondering what you'd be like--won't you come in? Thank you, he says--actually, I was looking for David. He just left, says Laura--do come in for a moment and sit down--David has told me so much about you. And me about you, says Guthrie--but you're not at all what I expected. They sit on the sofa. Really? asks Laura--what did you expect? I'm not sure, he says, but it's not you--but then, children rarely mention how lovely their parents are--they think about it but don't talk about it, at least not to other adults. It's very kind of you to spend so much time with David, she says. I'm glad to do it, he says, he's a very nice boy. I think so, she says, and also a very imaginative one. In what way? asks Guthrie. All this business about my portrait and Josette, she says. Yes, of course, that's true, he says. Of course you can't blame him growing up in a place like this all by himself, she says. It's a beautiful place, he says. Yes, it is, she says, but so much more a part of the past, rather than the present--it's really not surprising he believes in ghosts. Do you? he asks. No, she says. What do you believe in? he asks. If so inclined, she says, I believe in times gone by--I believe the events of the past can be haunting enough without conjuring up spirits about it. It isn't exactly as if David had been alone, says Guthrie, he had his father. Roger was never really a father to him, says Laura, in fact, he's the bigger baby of the two. I heard you were separated, he says. Even when we were together, we were separated, she says--you see, I had a great rival for Roger's affections--Roger himself--he won out--I never could think as much of him as he thought of himself--I don't know why I'm telling you all of this. I'm interested, points out Guthrie. Perhaps it's because I would like us to be friends, she says. I'd like that, too, he tells her. Well, then, she says, shall we make a stab at it? Yes, let's he says, for David if no other reason--I think you're right, he has very few people in this world--of course, there's your sister in law, Mrs. Stoddard. Yes, says Laura, she's raised a child of her own, of course, and I don't think she has the patience to start over again with mine. You sound as if you're not too fond of her, he says. I tried very hard to be fond of her, in the beginning, explains Laura, but she wouldn't let me--she didn't think I was good enough for Roger--no, that's not quite right, Roger didn't count--actually, she didn't think I was good enough to be a Collins. Then perhaps you won't be too sorry if she's away for a while, he suggests. I am always sorry when someone is ill, Doctor, she says, aren't you? And such a strange illness, he says--what do you make of it. I'll leave making anything out of it to you, she says, after all, that's your business. I've never seen anything like it--not in this world, he says. Are there any other worlds? She asks. There might be, he replies. What an interesting observation, she says--we must discuss it sometime. Haven't you ever considered the possibilities of another world? he asks. (another soap, now defunct.) Let me put it this way, she says, I feel that the possibilities of things in this world are so infinite that it's difficult to conceive of another. What an interesting observation, he says, grinning--we must discuss it sometime. Are you going to be around long enough for us to have our...discussions? she asks. That depends on how soon I get to the bottom of your sister in law's illness, he says. I wish I could be of some help, she says. You may be, he says, you may very well be. Not if you go looking in other worlds, says Laura, because I am strictly part of this one.But as you just commented, he points out, the possibilities of THIS world are infinite.

NOTES: Sounds like Roger had problems with his marriage, not surprisingly. I had to laugh when Laura tells Guthrie that Roger was his own rival for Laura's affections--and he won out. I always felt it had to be Burke who interfered with their marriage, but apparently, Roger couldn't get out of his own way.

Other worlds...Peter Guthrie and Laura discussed them, and it almost seemed as if they were challenging each other. She claims she lives in no other world but this one, but he reminds her she said that there were infinite possibilities in this one. Even though they seemed to come to a friendly pact, I sense that these two are already suspicious of each other and believe the other represents a threat.

 With Roger so against Guthrie, but Laura forced to pretend she's for him, what will happen as far as David is concerned? If Josette really wanted to prevent Laura from harming David, she'd have been wiser to allow Guthrie to see the changed painting. He would have interpreted it properly. David got very upset and felt as if he'd lost the painting all over again--except this time, HE had been added to the picture, making it all the more valuable to him.

It seems as if the battle is joined for David's soul, David's very life, with Laura and Roger on one side, Vicki, Carolyn, Guthrie and Josette on the other. The numbers are in David's favor--but with both his parents on the same side, will he survive?

Love, Robin

Episode #158 - In one of the bedrooms of Collinwood, there is a woman who has recently become an invalid. Her illness is a cause of concern to all those whose lives she touches.

Liz' bedroom - Roger stands by as a doctor checks Liz' pulse. She does not look at all well. Well, doctor? Asks Roger. Be patient, cautions the doctor, I haven't concluded my examination yet. It just doesn't make sense, says Roger, my sister isn't the fainting sort. Sorry to disappoint you, says Liz weakly, it seems I've just become the fainting sort. You're just going to have to pull yourself together, says Roger jovially, who's going to run things around here?--I don't want the responsibility. (he isn't kidding.) I feel so ridiculously weak, it's almost impossible to force myself to move, says Liz--it's nothing serious, is it, doctor?--I can't be sick, not now. Suppose you leave the diagnosis to me, advises the doctor. I feel so strange, so very very tired, says Liz. Then rest, says the doctor, it's the best thing for you. Yes, rest, murmurs Liz, and falls asleep. The doctor rises to his feet. He and Roger move away from the bed, and the doctor replaces his equipment in his medical bag. (we see the Count Petofi hand box) What's wrong with her? asks roger. The strangest case I've ever been on, replies the medico--in all the things I've ever read about in medical books, all my years as a doctor, I've never seen anything like this--let's discuss it outside. They leave Liz' bedroom as she slumbers on.

Roger and the doctor troop downstairs. I don't understand it, says Roger--what makes my sister's case so unique? She seems to be a very ill woman, says the doctor, is that right/ How ill is very ill? Asks Roger--let's say it seems something is wrong with her. That's just it, says the doctor, there isn't--there's nothing physically wrong with her--organically, she's in perfect shape--everything I can possibly test here in this house--heart, pulse, eyes, lungs, they all check out fine--there are other things I can't possibly test here--with your permission, I'd like to move her to a hospital in Boston, where they have the necessary equipment to give her a thorough going over. You not only have my permission but my blessing, says Roger--I think it would be a very good thing for Elizabeth to get out of Collinsport for a while. Good--I'll make the necessary arrangements, says the doctor. There is one obstacle, says Roger, helping the doctor into his coat--you have my permission, but you don't have' Liz'--I sometimes think it would take a stick of dynamite to get her out of this house. Then you have to convince her it's of the utmost importance, says the doctor. Thank you very much, says Roger ironically--but how?That's up to you, says the doctor--get help from her daughter--do anything to help--it must be done--and quickly.

When you found mother, Carolyn, playing with her necklace, asks Vicki in the drawing room, she was in a faint on the staircase--I don't understand, it doesn't make sense. Calm down, says Vicki, Let's wait and hear what the doctor has to say. But my mother isn't the sort that passes out! says Carolyn. There isn't the sort that does or doesn't, says Vicki--it may have been a simple case of fatigue. I just can't figure it out, says Carolyn, she's one of the strongest women that ever was--the idea of Mother being ill is...simply inconceivable! If you don't stop this, you're going to be the one that's ill, Vicki warns the agitated Carolyn. Roger enters the drawing room and tells them the doctor just left--as far as he can see, there's nothing wrong with Liz. What does he suggest? Asks Vicki. He wants to do some more tests, but will need the facilities of a hospital--he suggests she be sent to Boston, says Roger. I'd like to see anyone who can convince Mother to leave this house, says Carolyn. Yes, agrees Roger, that's what I was telling him, but he was adamant about it. What do we do? asks Carolyn. Pull together and convince her, that's all, says Roger, you, me and Vicki. You know how stubborn she is, Carolyn reminds him. Stubborn, yes, says Roger, but she's no fool, and if all three of us tell her the same thing, she'll realize we're doing it for her own good. Well, I guess we'd better get upstairs and see her, says Carolyn, walking toward the stairs. Mrs. Stoddard is going to be very difficult about this, says Vicki. You've always had a flair for understatement, says Roger. Uncle Roger, says Carolyn, it suddenly occurs to me how convenient all this is for you. What do you mean? asks Roger. Laura, the divorce, the custody of David can be accomplished much more easily without Mother around, points out Carolyn.My thoughts are only about your mother, says Roger. As long as you're being so thoughtful, says Carolyn, suppose you be the one to break it to her--that she's going to have to leave Collinwood and go into the a hospital. Roger looks unhappy at this task.

Liz sits up in bed with a start, as if awakening from a nightmare. Roger knocks and she says to come in. He sits beside her and tells her as far as the doctor knows, there's nothing wrong with her--but he doesn't know enough--he wants to make some more tests. I'm not preventing him, says Liz. Yes, says Roger, but it's nothing he can do here--he needs the facilities of a hospital--he wants you to go to Boston. That's impossible! says Liz, the old fire in her eyes. Don't be difficult, says Roger. I won't leave this house! insists Liz. But the doctor says...begins Roger. The doctor's a fool, says Liz, it's just fatigue, I've been working too hard, worrying too much--a few days rest and I'll be fine. It's impossible for you to have a disease and diagnose it, asserts Roger--even surgeons call in other surgeons. I'm not leaving Collinwood! says Liz--where's Carolyn? Outside, says Roger. I want to speak to her--please tell her to come in, orders Liz. All right, says Roger, and calls Carolyn into the room. Carolyn, smiling, sits down and asks Liz how she is. At the moment, very upset, says Liz. You mustn't get excited, says Carolyn. How can I help but be? asks Liz--your uncle thinks I must enter a hospital. The doctor thinks it's for the best, says Carolyn. A doctor doesn't think for me, says Liz, I think for myself. In this case, you've got to listen to him, says Carolyn. You're my daughter,, says Liz, they can't do anything without your permission--are you going to turn against me? Nobody's against you! says Carolyn, we're all for you--we want you to get well! Will you let them take me out of this house? asks Liz. Only because of you, to help you, says Carolyn. There's no help for me, away from Collinwood, murmurs Liz--don't let them do this to me! You're making it very difficult, says Carolyn. I want to stay here--what could be less difficult? Asks Liz. Please, begs Carolyn, please, if you won't do it for yourself, then do it for me--I won't rest easily until I know what's wrong with you--she looks at Roger.. I see, says Liz, you've made up your minds without consulting me. you're in no position to make the decision, says Carolyn. Very well, says Liz, I can't fight all of you--if I must go, remember, that you and you alone are in charge--I don't want any decisions made, not about David or anything else, until I return. Roger looks surprised at this directive. I'll try to do everything as you would do, promises Carolyn. They look at each other for a long moment, and Carolyn smiles. You can't, can you? asks Liz--how can I expect you to?--you're only a child yourself. The hospital is only a phone call away, Carolyn assures her. But how can I be sure anyone will make that call? asks Liz. Don't you trust me? asks Carolyn. I trust you to want to, says Liz, the thing is--and she gazes up at Roger--will you be allowed to? Roger looks tight-lipped. You make it sound so ominous, says Carolyn. No, says Liz, I can't leave this house, no matter what, I'll stay. You can't! says Carolyn--we've got to follow the doctor's orders!We'll see about that, vows Liz, sitting up, get my lawyer!--get my lawyer here! Carolyn pushes her mother back, trying to calm her down, but Liz continues to tell them she wants her lawyer here. Roger and Carolyn exit the room as Liz weakly insists that she won't leave--she won't!

When Roger goes into Liz' room, she's twisting her head from side to side against the pillow, restless. Did you get my lawyer? She asks. Now Liz, you're not going to cut us all off just because we're trying to do the right thing for you, he says soothingly. I'm going to prevent you from sending me to the hospital, insists Liz. I don't understand this, says Roger, you're always so sensible about things. I'm being sensible, she says, I want to speak to Vicki. Roger agrees--anything you say--but he doesn't look comfortable about it. Vicki's waiting right outside, and she comes in and asks Liz how she's feeling. Liz invites Vicki to sit down. Vicki does so, Roger sitting on her bed on the other side. I want to talk to Vicki alone, Liz tells her brother. Very well, says Roger, and exits. Promise me, says Liz, you'll do exactly as I tell you. I'll try, says Vicki. Listen carefully, says Liz, I haven't much strength left. I'm listening, Vicki assures her. My sister in law is going to take every advantage of my being away from here, says Liz, to see David. He's her son, says Vicki; she'll try to see him whether you're here or not. The thing is, says Liz, if I were here, she wouldn't succeed. You mustn't worry about these things, says Vicki. If I don't, says Liz, who will? You've got to concentrate on getting well again! says Vicki. I can't, says Liz, out of breath, not with this on my mind--you've got to help me! I'll do everything in my power, promises Vicki. You'll be doubly responsible for David while I'm away, says Liz. I'll take good care of him, says Vicki. I know that, says Liz, but you've got to make sure Laura doesn't see him. I'll do what I can, says Vicki. You've got to do it! says Liz desperately--you've got to keep David away from his mother! What if his father insists that he see her? asks Vicki. You're too young, laments Liz, I haven't anybody, there's no one I can trust--they can't take me away from here--please go, Vicki. Mrs. Stoddard...protests Vicki. Please, says Liz. Vicki reluctantly, slowly leaves, closing the door behind her. Nobody I can trust, murmurs Liz--nobody, I've got to stay here, nobody--she suddenly sits up in bed and sees Laura by her bed. Hello, Liz, says Laura silkily, looking more like a mannequin than a person. What are you doing here? asks Liz. I've come to pay you a little visit, says Laura. Please, I'm not well, says Liz. I know, says Laura. Why did they let you come up here? asks Liz. No one knows I'm up here, says Laura, except you and me. Please, go away, begs Liz. I won't stay long, says Laura. What do you want? asks Liz. Laura stands--only what's mine--my son, she says. No! cries Liz. You can't stand in my way--I told you you couldn't stand in my way, Laura reminds her. I can't remember, says Liz, her hand to her face. It's not important, says Laura. It is, insists Liz, I must remember! don't try, says Laura, just rest--you're going to have a nice, long rest. I'm going to get better, vows Liz. Of course you will, says Laura. I won't let you have David, warns Liz, no matter what happens to me--I won't let you!--there's something about you that...I don't know what it is--but I don't know--this...I know there's something I must remember. but you can't remember, can you? asks Laura. It's so close to remembering, I can almost grasp it! says Liz. You might never remember that image that's glimmering in your mind, says Laura. I will! Says Liz. Some things are best forgotten, best left unspoken, says Laura. I have to remember! gasps Liz, I know it's important! You must forget, insists Laura. No, I'll remember, says Liz.Memories are very hazy, says Laura. Everything seems to be fading, says Liz. Memories are elusive, disappearing into the fog, says Laura, in a hypnotizing voice--a fog that envelops everything! What's happening to me, says Liz, sinking to the pillows. Time is stopping for you, says Laura, coming to a halt--not future, no past--only the nothingness of being in limbo. Liz, eyes wide, stares at Laura.

Drawing room - Somehow it's not right, says Carolyn. Can you suggest an alternative? He asks her. No, says Carolyn, I simply don't like going against my mother's wishes. As long as she stays here, says Roger, she can get neither the rest nor the attention she requires. I suppose you're right, says Carolyn. Of course I'm right! says Roger, you saw her just now--he turns to find Laura standing there. Carolyn grimaces at her aunt. Laura, I didn't hear you knock! Says Roger. The door was open, says Laura--all this excitement, what's going on? Don't you know? asks Roger--of course you don't know--Liz has become ill. Really? asks Laura, what's wrong? Nobody seems to know, says Roger, pouring a drink, they're going to have to take her to Boston for observation. That's awful, says Laura, walking over to Carolyn, who's sitting on the sofa--I'm terribly sorry! Are you really? asks Carolyn. Of course I am, says Laura, I know how much Liz hates to leave this place. I would think her going away would fit in with your plans perfectly, says Carolyn. Regardless of my plans, says Laura, I still feel very sorry for your mother. How very generous of you, says Carolyn, but then you probably think you can afford to be generous now--Carolyn rises to her feet--don't be too sure of that! She flounces out. She's getting to be more and more like me every day, says Roger proudly. Laura sits beside him on the sofa and asks that he tell her exactly what happened. We found Liz at the foot of the stairs, says Roger, she was unconscious--the doctor can't diagnose her here, and she refuse to leave. obviously she has to! says Laura. I wouldn't be too sure of Liz having to do anything she doesn't want to do, says Roger, sipping his drink. What are you going to do? asks Laura. Try to get her into a hospital in spite of herself, says Roger--I must say, this situation doesn't hurt you, either--the one thing she was adamant about was that you not get David. But if you want me to have him...says Laura. I'm not going to upset her while she's this way, he says. With Liz in the hospital, things would be a lot easier, she reminds him. If we can get Carolyn to get her to the hospital, he says--Carolyn is her daughter, she will be in charge here. Yes, but in her condition, she has to go, insists Laura. With women, one can never tell, says Roger--Carolyn might keep Liz here to thwart you. What has she got against me? asks Laura. Until you came here, says Roger, her best beau was one Burke Devlin, who seems to have other interests now. I told you, she says impatiently, that I don't want Burke. You'd better mean it, he warns, because I can be pretty nasty myself. You know the only thing I want is David, she says, and she's not going to stop me from getting him. I'm not so sure that even if Liz is in the hospital, you know, she can be a difficult woman--as long as she can speak, she can always give orders to her lawyer or Carolyn. Yes, well, that might not be a problem, predicts Laura. They hear Carolyn emit a piercing scream. What was that? asks Roger as they both leap to their feet. Laura just stands there smugly as Roger runs toward the stairs.

Vicki barrels into Liz' room, asking what's wrong. It's Mother! sobs the hysterical Carolyn. Vicki reaches out and tries to rouse Liz. Roger bursts in. Mrs. Stoddard! cries Vicki. Mother! wails Carolyn. Roger leans between them, calling to Liz, who is now lying still, looking like a dead woman with open eyes. Speak to me! implores Roger. She can't speak! Says Vicki.
Downstairs, Laura hears the commotion and smiles, relishing her triumph.

NOTES: Too bad Roger made that suggestion about how silencing Liz would solve all of Laura's problems--she just, in the words of STAR TREK, made it so. It's certain that the family will cart Liz off to a Boston hospital, leaving David vulnerable. Liz feels that Carolyn and Vicki are too young to help, and that Roger is on Laura's side, but perhaps she's wrong. Both gals can be pretty formidable when necessary. Should be an interesting fight.

Interesting that Liz seems so ill, yet in body, she isn't. Laura must be one powerful being to accomplish something like this, because she can get Liz out of the way until she accomplishes her goal. But will she let Liz live in the end? Who knows? Laura is able to move her body from one place to another without being seen, plus she has the power to render someone desperately ill. Powerful mojo, no?

Liz knew that Roger wouldn't do what she wanted, and so turned to the girls. I think she should give them more credit than she does. Vicki especially loves and wants to protect David, and will go to any lengths to do so, even against Roger's orders.


Episode #159 - Sudden Illness has come to Collinwood, an illness so strange that doctors cannot diagnose it. The atmosphere is worried and tense in the great house, as the one who is ill lies unmoving, eyes wide, staring fixedly at something no one can see.

Vicki paces the drawing room, her lovely face etched with concern. Someone knocks. She answers. It's Frank, and she invites him in. What happened? he asks--your message said it was urgent. Mrs. Stoddard is worse, says Vicki, she just lies there, staring blankly, not speaking or moving. Is she paralyzed? He asks. It would seem that way, says Vicki, but the doctor doesn't think so. then what is it? he asks. He doesn't know, says Vicki--yesterday she was fine, she was talking and trying to run the house--and then I left her alone just for a little bit--when Carolyn went in, there she was, in this condition, whatever it is. He takes off his coat and hands it to her. What could the cause be? he asks. We don't know, says Vicki. Has she been feeling ill lately? He asks. No, says Vicki, she has been under pressure--David, his mother want to take him away. I know, he says, but Mrs. Stoddard is a very strong-willed woman, do you think she'd just give way like this? no, says Vicki, that's why I think her illness has something to do with Laura Collins!

How could this illness possibly be related to Laura Collins? asks Frank. I don't know, says Vicki, it's just a very strong feeling I have--let's go talk in here, she says, leading him into the drawing room--we have a lot of decisions to be made, a lot to discuss--Mrs. Stoddard wanted to see you--she wouldn't say why--but that's why I left that urgent message for you. I'm afraid I wasn't available, he says. That's all right, says Vicki, because it wouldn't have made any difference--you couldn't have gotten here in time--just after I called you, she went into that coma. Do you have any idea what was on her mind? asks Frank--did she seem to have a feeling or fear of death? No, says Vicki, she did seem worried about what might happen to her. Maybe she wanted to say something about her will, he suggests, people in this condition often have a change of heart, they want to include someone, or cut somebody out of it. No, says Vicki, I don't think that was it--she seemed so much more urgent. What was she saying? he asks. She was turning over the house to Carolyn, but she was determined not to leave Collinwood, no matter what the doctor wanted. Was does he want? asks Frank. He wants to get her into a hospital so he can do more extensive testing than he was able to do here, explains Vicki. Why doesn't she go? asks Frank--does she have some fear of doctors and hospitals. No, that's not it, she says--she doesn't want to leave this house--you must remember she hasn't been out of here in 18 years--something's keeping her here, but she won't say what it is--she's adamant about not going. What else did she say? he asks. She asked--no, she told me to keep David away from his mother. You have no right to keep that boy away from his mother, says Frank, Mrs. Stoddard is not his guardian, she can't authorize you to do anything like that. but it's for David's sake! says Vicki, upset. Granted, says Frank, but the boy's father wants to promote this kind of relationship between the mother and son--and legally, you don't have a leg to stand on. I'm not looking at it legally! says Vicki shrilly, I'm seeing it from an emotional point of view. Which means nothing in court, he reminds her. I don't care about court, says Vicki, anyway, the things that have happened here wouldn't even stand up in court! All right, he says, I'll admit there are enough things going on with Mrs. Collins to raise a question with David's custody, but no enough to prevent her from seeing him. No! cries Vicki--there are so many unexplainable things--too many coincidences, too many unnatural occurrences. Frank agrees. Somebody has to answer them, she says--I was hoping it would b you. I only wish I could, he says, but I'm afraid the extrasensory is not my field--I deal in facts, evidence, testimony--and besides, this is not a normal case--there are no absolute value here--what's happened here you either believe or disbelieve, and even if you disbelieve it, you can't ignore it. If only somebody could explain what's been happening, she says. I'm afraid there aren't many who can explain phenomenon, he says, ESP--this place seems to be full of it. He ponders a moment, as Vicki looks disturbed. Wait a minute, he says, there's a professor at Dartmouth, of parapsychology--the study of extra sensory perception and supernatural phenomenon. That sounds a little way out (yes, we used that term back then, folks), says Vicki. But isn't that what's been happening here? asks Frank. I suppose so, says Vicki. Dr. Peter Guthrie, remembers Frank--and I know he'd be interested in this--he's always researching and investigating things like this--I'm going to phone him, ask him to come over--I'd like his opinion. I hope he can shed some light on the matter, she says. If there's a genuine supernatural experience happening here, says Frank, Peter Guthrie will explain it. He picks up the phone.

Cottage - David runs inside. Laura follows, gasping for breath. I won! he says exultantly--I told you I could run fast! You practically flew! She laughs--take off your coat. They do. Let's get warm, she suggests. That was a lot of fun, says David. Laura agrees--we used to do that when you were little, I used to let you win, but this time, you really won. You can run pretty fast--for a lady, he says. thank you sir, she says, I consider that a very great compliment--should we get warm by the fire? OK, he says, and they both hold out their hands. I can't get used to this cold climate, says Laura. It was always warm where you came from, wasn't it? he asks. Oh, yes, she says, sitting by the fire, the temperature was always very pleasant there--feeling better, this is warmer, isn't it? Yes, he says, smiling. Poke the fire, see if you can get a little more heat out of it, she says. Can I? he asks, pleased. He picks up the poker. Of course, she says. Gee, thanks, he says, I love to do it, but my father never lets me. There's an art to it, she says--something every man should know. He asks her how he's doing. Very well, she praises--why don't you put another log on? Can I?--really? he asks, amazed--oh, boy!--which one should I take, this one? Any one you like, you're in charge of the fire, she tells him. I think I will take this one, he says, then changes his mind and selects another. That's going to make a nice blaze, she says--put it on. OK, he says, hefting the heavy log and adding it to the fire. Be careful, she warns, don't get too close. Very good, she praises. It's starting to burn, he says. This is gong to warn us now, isn't it? she asks. Yes, he says, listen to the crackling. A wonderful sound, she says. Sounds like guns going off (?) he remarks--oh, boy, look at the sparks going up the chimney! All the way up into the sky, says Laura. Thanks for letting me do that, he says. You can take care of the fire anytime you want to, she assures him. Can I? he asks eagerly. Yes, every day, if you like, she says. Oh, I would! he says. This will burn out by tonight, she says, why don't you come over in the morning bright and early and start another one? I will! he says excitedly, I'll be here real early! It's a date, she says--then I'll fix breakfast for you. Oh, boy! he says. How about pancakes? She asks. Sure! he says, grinning. We'll sit and watch the fire all day long, mmm? And I can keep putting logs on it, he says. I'll have to bring some more in from the outside, she says. I don't want you to carry them--let me carry them, he says proudly. Are you sure you're strong enough? she asks. Of course I am! he assures her, very much the man. They stare into the fire together. David, she says, I'm glad we're such good friends. Oh, I was never mad at you, really, he says. We're better friends now than ever before, she says, aren't we? Yes, he says, grinning, I like you. I'm glad, she says--I hope you mean that. I do, he says, honest! I believe you, she says--you know what, I think it would be fun if you came over and spent the night sometime--would you like that? David's mouth drops open. Oh, I would--we could stay up real late and keep the fire going... They smile at each other. Yes, that's exactly what I thought, she agrees--oh, I'm looking forward to it--we're going to have such a good time together--everything is going to be wonderful for us--we must never let anyone come between us. Who would want to do that? he asks.I don't know, there was someone that...but that will never happen now, she says. (Brrrrr!)

Nine o'clock - Vicki looks up at the grandfather clock, then goes to the window and opens it, gazing out anxiously. She catches David running upstairs. Where were you at this hour? she demands. Out, he says. Where? She asks. With my mother, at her cottage, he says. Will you come downstairs, please? she asks. I'm going to my room, he says. You can go to your room later, says Vicki sternly, I want to talk to you now. OK, he says reluctantly. He heads back downstairs. Come in here, she tells him. They go into the drawing room. Why didn't you tell me where you were going? she asks. I thought I did, he says. You know you didn't, she says. I was with my mother, so it's OK, he assures her. I want to know where you are all the time, she says. Most of the time I'll probably be with my mother, he says. That might be a question, David--you know that your aunt Elizabeth is very sick and is going to have to go to a hospital. Will she be there long? he asks. We don't know, says Vicki. Oh boy, I hope not, he says. I hope not, too, says Vicki. Will she get better? He asks. We'll only know that after the doctor examines her at the hospital--in the meantime, she's left some instructions for us--and I'm sure you'll want to carry them out. Sure I do, says David. Good, says Vicki--one of them has to do with the amount of studying you've been doing. I knew it would be that! he says. You haven't been doing enough schoolwork, insists Vicki, tomorrow morning we're going to start bright and early and get in a good day. How early? He asks. Right after breakfast, she says. I promised my mother I'd have breakfast with her tomorrow, he says. You're going to have to have breakfast here, she says, or else we'll lose too much time. But I want to have breakfast with her, he pouts. Why don't you ask her to have breakfast with us up here? asks Vicki, tell her to come early. But she was going to make it for me down there at the cottage, by herself, complains David. She can make it up here, says Vicki, I'm sure Mrs. Johnson won't mind. Yes, but it wouldn't be the same as down there, he says. that's the way it's got to be, says Vicki. Who said so? he asks. I do, she says. I don't know why you have to be so strict all of a sudden! He says. Because I'm responsible for your education, she says. OK, he says, but you don't have to tell me when to eat! I'm responsible for what you eat, too, she says. Yes, but my mother's in charge of something, isn't she? he demands. She's in charge of the things I'm not in charge of, says Vicki. That's no fair--you're in charge of everything! He says angrily--there won't be any time for me to be with my mother! (that's the point, David.) Of course there will, says Vicki. David folds his arms over his chest. I promised her I'd take care of her fire tomorrow, he says. This disturbs Vicki. You did? she asks. Yes, she let me do it today, he says, and I did a good job of it, so I can do it whenever I want. She let you tend the fire? asks Vicki. Yes, he says, and tomorrow morning I have to bring logs for her--I'll be busy and working all the time--because my mother likes to sit and look at the fire--and so do I. He gazes into the drawing room fire. I wish that you wouldn't do that, says Vicki, upset--it's dangerous. My mother said I can, David tells her, and you have nothing to say about it. We'll see how much I have to say about it, insists Vicki. You're just trying to keep me from seeing my mother! he accuses.David! says Laura from the doorway--Miss winters would never do a thing like that--I'm quite sure. And Vicki and Laura stare at each other.

David runs into Laura's arms while Vicki coolly greets Laura. David, you shouldn't say things like that to Miss Winters, says Laura. But they're true! says David--she doesn't want me to be with you! David, I never said anything like that, says Vicki. I'm sure you didn't, says Laura, and orders David to apologize. But she's trying to give me a lot to do so I won't be able to see you, he says. That's not true, says Laura--is it, Vicki? No, lies Vicki, it isn't. You see? Laura tells her son. But she said I couldn't have breakfast with you in the morning! says David. I didn't quite say that, says Vicki. What did you say? asks Laura. He's fallen behind in his studies, says Vicki--we've got a lot of catching up to do, so we need all the time we can get--I suggested that you have breakfast with us, up here. I had no idea you were falling behind on your work, says Laura, I'm very surprised. I'm not that behind, says David, I could catch up like that--he snaps his fingers to show how quickly. In that case, I suggest you do so, she says, so we can have our private little breakfasts--I'm sure the day after tomorrow would be all right--wouldn't it, Vicki? I don't think he can catch up enough in one day, says Vicki. Oh? asks Laura, suspicious, how long would you say? I'm not sure, says Vicki. I see, says Laura, well, why don't you run along upstairs to bed, she tells David, so you can get a nice bright and early start in the morning and get all that studying over with, hmm? OK, he says. She bids him good night and kisses his cheek. He says good night to Vicki, who promises to come up and see him before he goes to sleep. Dream well, Laura says, and David goes upstairs. I didn't realize that I was keeping David from his studies, says Laura. I didn't mean to blame you, it's not your fault, says Vicki, but you must understand, with Mrs. Stoddard so sick, we have to try and keep things running as smoothly as possible. I agree with you completely, says Laura, you're a very bright, loyal girl. Thank you, says Vicki. Did you notice how I backed you up about David's studies? Yes, says Vicki. And how willing I was to make adjustments? says Laura. Yes, you saved me from quite a scrap with him, agrees Vicki. I'm very glad about that, says Laura--however, I am a little disappointed in you, Vicki. Why? asks Vicki. Because you were so helpful to me in that very difficult beginning with David, says Laura--but right now you're not backing me up--I wonder why? Vicki turns away, uncomfortable. Can you tell me? asks Laura. I don't know, says Vicki. What's happened between us? asks Laura--is it something that I've said or done? I'm not sure anything has happened between us, answers Vicki noncommittally. I can tell that something has, I just wonder if Elizabeth Stoddard has anything to do with it? asks Laura. No, says Vicki firmly. I would feel terrible if I thought you were really trying to keep me away from David, says Laura. Whatever I do, says Vicki, I do it for David--now you can't ask for more than that. Yes I can, insists Laura, David is my son, I represent his past, his future--I think you should recognize this, and stand behind me. I'm doing the best I can, says Vicki. No you're not, accuses Laura--you're jerking away--stay with me--please, you understand more than anyone else does--you can help me the most. Of course I want to help you, says Vicki, but I have my responsibilities. To David or to Mrs. Stoddard? asks Laura. To both, responds Vicki. Don't you also have them to yourself? asks Laura. Yes, says Vicki, to make the right decision.For your sake, I hope you do so, says Laura, because, no matter what, I will get David.

NOTES: The battle is officially joined, I would say, between Laura and Vicki, for David's very life. I'm sure Laura would have no trouble doing to Vicki what she did to Liz, and that's very scary. I imagine Laura would put everyone at Collinwood into states of coma before relinquishing her claim on David. Now that she's getting him involved with her fiery hobbies, what is her plan for him? He seems to like and love her a great deal, so she is fulfilling that goal. Will Vicki, with the help of Frank and Dr. Guthrie, be able to save David from whatever fate Laura has in store for him?

David and his mother really do seem to get along well, and I believe it was true for the actors, as well. Diana Millay and David Henesy are in contact to this day. She has said so herself. I enjoyed watching the scene in which Laura made David feel so grown-up by allowing him to poke the fire and add a log. The idea of putting together a fire from scratch put David into ecstasy, which I'm sure is what Laura wanted.

Frank and Vicki had a different opinion--emotion vs. law--but at least he agreed to try playing it her way. They do make a nice pair, don't they?  I think she and Laura both know that the gauntlet has been thrown, and not only does Laura have the fact that she's David's blood mother on her side, but the supernatural powers she carries as a Phoenix.

It seems that David is overcoming his obsession with death and violence, but he compares the sound of the fire to gunshots, leading me to believe he's still got a fixation. Nevertheless, he's a much more sympathetic character now, and we want Vicki, Frank and the others to thwart Laura's efforts to be with him. Interesting how smoothly they changed David's character so we would like and root for him.

Love, Robin

Episode #154 - I have come to a dark and desolate place. I do not know where I am, or why I am here--but I only know that I am drawn by an unknown force.

The chapel door opens and an elderly man with huge glasses peers out at Frank and Vicki. We're sorry to disturb you, says Frank--we got lost on the road. We're not lost, says Vicki--this is a place we're supposed to find. Can you hear me? asks Frank--can you tell us where we are? The old man starts to reach up to touch Vicki's face. Frank protectively pulls her back. It's all right, says Vicki. You're alive? asks the man? Yes, says Vicki. Both of you, living? he asks. (this guy is a hoot!) Yes, says Frank, we were hoping you could tell us where we are. I heard the knocking, he says, I always hear the knocking--I open the door and they're never there. Who knocks on your door? asks Vicki. They do, he says. The children in the neighborhood, they play pranks on you? asks Frank. Some of them are children, says the old man, some are older than I, but they open the door and they go away, but you're not like them. No, says Vicki, we didn't go away, did we? No, agrees the old man, but that's not why you're not like them--you're living, they're dead. Vicki gives Frank a nervous glance over her shoulder.

Please, says Frank, would you just tell us where we are, then we'll go away. Don't go away, says the old man, everyone else has gone away, so long ago, I can't remember--don't you go, too. Where are we? asks Vicki. You didn't read the names, says the man. We didn't see any names, says Frank, it was too dark--we didn't even see a sign. No sign, only the stones--you didn't read the name on the stones? asks the man--the gravestones--the great name of Stockbridge is on almost all of them. This is a cemetery? asks Vicki.Of course the names are worn now, so many of the stones have fallen, I can't blame you, says the old man, for not knowing where you are. And you're the keeper? asks Vicki. The earth is the keeper, says the man, I just open the door when they knock. (Brrrr!) Can we come inside? asks Vicki. Please come in, says the caretaker. Vicki and Frank follow him inside. He closes the creaky door behind them. They enter a small, cold-looking room filled with a desk, chair, shelf and books. It's brick, very gloomy. They look around. Vicki asks if these are the records of the people buried here. Yes, he says, names, the day they were born, the day they died, and where in the ground outside they are laid forever. And that's all that's known about them? asks Vicki. No, he says, that is all that is in the books--the rest is in here--he taps his head--come, I'll show you. You're very kind, says Frank, edgy--maybe some other time. No! says Vicki, distressed, I can't go now, I know I can't! The man takes down a book and reads "P. Agthorn Stockbridge, born 1713, died 1731--at the height of his youth--trampled by a stallion--he left a young wife and a baby girl--the girl they say had hair like the sun--here is another"... You'd think it would smell all musty in here, says Vicki, but it doesn't--it smells of jasmine. Jasmine? repeats the caretaker. It comes from in there, says Vicki, pointing to another room. Frank darts forward. What are you talking about? he asks--let me take you home, I'm worried about you. What's in there? asks Vicki. No, not in there, warns the caretaker, you mustn't go in there. Why not? asks Vicki. That's the crypt, he replies, I never let anyone go in there. But I have to, protests Vicki, please! If the man says no, says Frank, I think we'd better take his word for it. We knocked, says Vicki, and we didn't go away, we came in--please do us this one favor. That's where the young man I was just telling you about is buried, the caretaker explains--all the Stockbridges that met a violent death, they're inside there, away from the wind outside, away from the hail and the hot sun--where they can find the most peace. Please, begs Vicki. Well, all right, but quietly, he cautions, so quietly even they can't hear. He leads them into the room and turns on an overhead light. It's so musty in here I can hardly breathe, complains Frank. Smell the jasmine, says Vicki. (this struck me funny.) See here, says the caretaker, shining a flashlight on a stone--P. Agthorn Stockbridge lyes here, Born 1718--Died 1731. The caretaker reads the stone. What does P stand for? asks Vicki--Paul, Peter? No, I don't know, he says, first names didn't mean much to the Stockbridges, it was the last name that meant the most, and the middle name, the name of the families that married into the Stockbridge line--this man's name was Agthorn--that was his mother's maiden name. And they all died violently? asks Vicki. Every one of them, affirms the caretaker--here, Hugh Spencer Stockbridge, born 1687, died 1780--he was murdered--his throat was slit while he was sleeping. And she was drowned at sea, says the man, directing the flashlight on the stone above--E. Pendleton Stockbridge, born 1801, died, 1817--she was drowned at sea, most of her body was torn to bits by the rocks. (such a pleasant story.) Please, Vicki, can't we leave now? asks Frank. Vicki shakes her head. All death is violent in its way, says the caretaker, but for these poor souls, it was especially so. He leads them to another stone, shining the flashlight on L. Murdoch Stockbridge, born 1735, died 1867--how did he die? asks Vicki. Not he--she--says the caretaker--burned to death. What was that name? asks Frank. L. Murdoch Stockbridge Frank reads, repeating the name a couple of times. A candle fell against the bed curtain, says the caretaker--what body is in there is mostly ashes. Vicki puts her hand to her mouth and coughs. Frank, I can't breathe! she chokes, the air--please take me out of here! Vicki, look at that name, says Frank. It's so musty in here, only a minute ago, the smell of jasmine! Says Vicki. Read that name, orders Frank--L Murdoch Stockbridge.Please take me away from here! begs Vicki. I've seen that name--L. Murdoch--on legal documents in the office a hundred times, says Frank--Laura Murdoch Collins--L. Murdoch Stockbridge. The caretaker repeats the latter name and adds, "Died by fire--L. Murdoch Stockbridge died by fire!"

It's Josette Collins! says Vicki. No, we have no one here by that name, says the caretaker. In the car, says Vicki, just before I asked you to turn off the road, I smelled jasmine--that's her special scent--and here again--L. Murdoch Stockbridge--Laura Murdoch Stockbridge--her name was Laura? First names meant nothing to the Stockbridges, he says, the middle name told where the blood came from--that's what they wanted to preserve--the bloodline. I think we can go now, says Vicki. None too soon for me, says Frank. Don't go, please! says the caretaker, I opened the door and let you in--please don't go. Thank you, says Frank, but we really do have to go. Were you looking for something particular? asks the caretaker. No, says Frank--but we found it anyway, he says wonderingly, looking at Vicki. What was it? the caretaker asks. We don't know, says Frank. I don't understand, says the caretaker. Neither do we, says Vicki--thank you--and they leave the caretaker to turn out the lights in the violent death room.

Sarah Johnson, smiling, enters the drawing room and asks Roger (rather flirtatiously, I thought), if she can get him anything. He already has a drink in his hand. No thank you, he says, I have everything I need right now. There's a little chill in the air, she says, maybe I'd better build up the fire. She moves to d so. The fire is fine, says Roger impatiently, sitting down. I don't mean to interfere, says Sarah, mining for gossip, but I hope there hasn't been anymore trouble. I wasn't aware there had been any in the first place, he says. I could hardly help noticing the police had been here again, she says. Oh, you couldn't, could you? asks Roger sarcastically. I saw their car in the driveway, she says. I see, says Roger. It bothered me to think of anyone in this family being in any kind of trouble (her expression says otherwise). Thank you, says Roger, but nobody is in any trouble. I'm glad to hear that, she says, because with all due respect, I like to think of this family as something very close, very important to me. You should be commended for your loyalty, says Roger--as for the police, believe me, it was nothing important. Believe me, I'm happy to hear that, she says. Laura briskly enters the house and greets Sarah. Roger abruptly asks Sarah to get him some coffee with his brandy--very strong and black--would you go into the kitchen and make some, please?--I think Mrs. Collins would enjoy a cup, too. Of course, says Sarah, undoubtedly annoyed at being asked to leave. She goes. Roger cautions Laura not to speak until Sarah is out of earshot--have you decided to make a full explanation? he asks. I've come to tell you that I don't have anymore to say, she says. Please! says Roger, irritated, what you tell the police is a matter of absolutely no interest to me--lies and evasions are what they deserve (oh, really?) I deserve much more, and I'm waiting to hear it! But I don't have anything to tell you that I haven't told them! she protests. I don't accept that answer! says Roger angrily--a woman died in your apartment in Phoenix, and I'm convinced you know more than you're telling me--I'm waiting, Laura, do you hear--I am waiting for the truth! What would you like to hear? she demands--tell me exactly what is it and I'll say it! Don't you understand, I must know, it's for your own sake, he says, you must tell me the truth so that I can handle the entire situation--as it has to be handled. What are you thinking? asks Laura--surely not that I murdered that woman! Is it impossible? he asks. Roger! she says. Oh, you're so shocked, he mocks-- when will you learn that nothing a human being does is shocking. The idea that I could murder anyone, says Laura--I refuse to discuss this, Roger! If you go through that door, warns Roger, as she starts to leave, it may be the first step in your eminent departure from Collinwood! Don't be ridiculous, she says, my staying or leaving is Elizabeth's decision--at the moment, she has agreed to my staying. I'm afraid that was before our visit from Lt. Riley, says Roger--my sister and I had a chat in this very room before you came here--tonight's episode has convinced her there is no longer any reason for you to stay on in Collinwood. I am not leaving here without David, she reminds him. You are if Liz says you are, he tells her. Did you hear what I said? she repeats--I said I'm not leaving without my son! We'll see, says Roger. I think you and Liz had better listen to me, says Laura--I'm getting a little tired of her threats and I think it's time she realized I have a few of my own! Oh? he asks. And if she thinks she can force me to leave Collinwood... begins Laura. Yes? asks Roger. I don't advise her to try it, because I can carry out my threats, too! says Laura And you think you're incapable of murder, says Roger--I want you to look at yourself right now. Perhaps I was a little carried away, she agrees, calmer--you know I could never hurt anyone. (tell that to Sam. all this thwarting is pissing her off.) That's a lie, says Roger. I get very frightened at the thought of losing David! she cries. Frightened enough to kill? He asks. Of course not! she says. You forget, he says, that as your husband, I got a running report of your conduct from the hospital. I was sick then, I'm not sick now! she insists. Are you so sure? he asks. What do you want me to say--do you want me to say something I didn't do? she asks desperately. No, but I want you to explain a lot of things that have not been explained, he says. I do not know who that woman was! says Laura. That is only one incident, he says, there are many other things that have to be explained, much closer to home. Such as? she asks. Sarah enters the foyer, tray in her hands; she can hear all now. Burke Devlin, says Roger. We're not going to start that argument again! protests Laura. Indeed we are, says Roger, until I know what you two are up to. I told you, I'm trying to keep him pacified, says Laura. That's a strange way of pacification, says Roger. (is she sleeping with him?) We want to keep his mind off the manslaughter case, says Laura. I told you never to mention those words! hisses Roger. Then don't keep bringing up the subject of Burke! says Laura. Sarah listens closely.And stop suspecting my methods! orders Laura. Sarah bangs the tray against the table outside the foyer to warn of her imminent arrival. Mrs. Johnson, says Roger in a hushed voice. Laura sits on the sofa. Sarah comes in and says she hurried as fast as she could--I hope I didn't keep you waiting--would you like me to pour? No, Mrs. Collins will pour, instructs roger. Sarah sets down the tray on the coffee table. If that's all, says Sarah, I'd like to go to bed, if there's nothing else. You've had a busy day? Roger asks her sarcastically. Yes, she says, I have, always on the go--I like it that way. She bids both good night and leaves. How much do you think she heard? asks Laura. I don't know, says Roger. Maybe nothing, says Laura. Maybe everything, counters Roger. (everything, naturally, or enough to do damage.)

Frank and Vicki return to Collinwood and stand in front of the door. Are you all right now? he asks. I think so, she says--are you sure you didn't smell jasmine, too? The only things I smelled were must and mold, he says. I'm sure it was Josette Collins, says Vicki, trying to tell us something about Mrs. Collins. I'll have to admit, there was something odd going on there, he admits--but why would she want you to know that Mrs. Collins is descended from an old New England family that had married into the Stockbridges? I don't know, says Vicki, but what bothers me is that that woman died by fire. That old man kept whispering that over and over again, says Frank--L. Murdoch Stockbridge, died by fire. Could it have anything to do with that fire in Phoenix? wonders Vicki. Who knows? asks Frank, but Mrs. Collins didn't die in that fire. I wish I understood what I'm supposed to understand, says Vicki. So do I, he says. Wish we could piece everything together, she says--David's dreams, Sam Evans' paintings, the fire in Phoenix, and now this ancestor. If she is an ancestor, says Frank. It seems connected--and yet so unconnected, says Vicki--I'm very tired--would you like a drink before you go back? You make it a stiff one and you're on, he says. (ahem, mind out of the gutter.) Ah, says Roger as they come in, Vicki and Mr. Garner, our legal light that puts a sparkle in our governess' lovely eyes! (LOL!) Everyone greets everyone else a good evening. How are you? Frank asks Roger. I'm not so sure at the moment, he says, brandy? Fine, says Frank. Would you care to join our little merry-making? asks Roger. Nothing for me, says Vicki. Roger prepares the drinks. Would you like some coffee? offers Laura. Vicki thanks her and sits beside her--did you first come to Collinsport as a young woman? queries Vicki. I'd like to think that I came as a young woman the second time as well, says Laura, pouring a cup of coffee. (I guess she means her sane return to Collinwood.) I'm very sorry, says Vicki, what I meant was, your family didn't come from Collinsport? No, says Laura--why the interest in my family? The thing is, David is always talking about his family, says Vicki--he knows about the Collinses, but he speculates about your side of the family, and I have nothing to tell him. If he asks again, says Laura, tell him his mother comes from one of the oldest, finest families in the area. I have something to tell you, Roger tells Frank--I was going to call you first thing in the morning, hoping to anticipate a call you can expect from Lt. Riley. Must we talk about this tonight? asks Laura. I'm merely going to tell Mr. Gardner what Lt. Riley told us, says Roger, that's all. What did Riley have to tell you? asks Frank. Something very amusing, says Roger--that the authorities in Arizona--they're very diligent, you know--they have identified beyond any question of doubt who that woman was who burned up in the fire. They have? asks Vicki. Yes, says Roger, dental records, blood types--all of the things modern science has invented to make this possible--and at least the great mystery is solved. I'm glad to hear that, says Frank--who was she? The lady who burned up in that fire has proven to be, with absolutely certainty, says Roger--Laura Murdoch Collins. Laura Murdoch Collins, died by fire, murmurs Vicki. I think it's amusing, don't you?--very amusing, says Roger. Frank, not smiling, looks at Laura, whose face is expressionless.

NOTES: Eureka! Has Vicki found it? Did Josette lead her to the biggest clue connecting Laura with the supernatural? What is amusing to Roger appears to have struck a chord in both Frank and Vicki. What will they do to investigate further?

Sarah was such a hoot, trying to pump Roger for info when he didn't want to be pumped. She still got an earful, and I bet she'll go straight to Burke with it. How will he react to what Laura told Roger about keeping him pacified? Either through fair means or foul, Laura has her claws in him, and he won't like being made a fool of.

That caretaker always gives me the creeps, talking about the dead the way he does, but he adds a lugubrious comical element, too. I always thought he was an interesting character.


Episode #155 - A strange woman has come to Collinwood, a mysterious woman capable of lies and deceptions. She believes no one suspects her, but unknown to her, in a room, far away from Collinwood, there is one who could unmask her.

Mrs. Johnson pays Burke a visit in his suite at the Inn. You look like the cat that swallowed the canary, he remarks. She grins proudly. If I do say so, I really earned my paycheck this week, she says. What do you have to tell me? he asks, helping her off with her coat. First I want you to answer me something, she says--you have a great deal of faith in Laura Collins, haven't you? All the faith in the world, he says. You really think she'd going to be able to help you destroy the Collins family? asks Sarah. Yes I do, he replies. How do you think she'll do that? asks Sarah. By testifying for me at a retrial, says Burke. She's going to tell the court is was her husband that was driving the car that killed that man, not you? asks Sarah. That's right, why? asks Burke. What makes you think she'd be willing to do that? asks Sarah. She told me she would, he says, she gave me her promise. (why the third degree before dropping the bomb, Sarah? Seems kind of mean to me.) She's lying, says Sarah--you're not going to like what I tell you, but Laura Collins is a fraud!

Those are strong words, says Burke--you'd better have plenty of evidence to back them up. I have evidence from Mrs. Collins' own lips, Sarah assures him. What does that mean? asks Burke. I overheard Mr. and Mrs. Collins, they were talking about you, says Sarah, and Mr. Collins said he was worried about you--he thought you and Mrs. Collins were up to something and he wanted to know what it was. What did Laura say? asks Burke. She said she was keeping you pacified, reveals Sarah. Laura said that? asks Burke, taken aback. That's the word she used, says Sarah--my hearing is perfect--I heard her say she was keeping you pacified to keep your mind off that manslaughter case. What else? asks Burke. That made Mr. Collins very nervous, and he said she wasn't to use those words, says Sarah, and she told him not to worry about you, that she had her own way of handling you. Handling me? asks Burke. That's the gist of it, says Sarah, then they heard me outside and stopped talking. Burke rubs his face with his hand. I don't understand any of this, he says. It's plain this woman has made a fool of you, says Sarah. You're lying! accuses Burke, you have to be. I don't lie, not to you, says Sarah. Laura wouldn't say that, says Burke, she couldn't. (denial, meet Burke.) She did, says Sarah. I don't believe that! says Burke--who's been putting you up to telling these lies to me? These are not lies, but the truth! says Sarah. Was it Roger, is he behind this? demands Burke, is he paying you now? She turns to leave. Answer my question, I want the truth! he says. You got the truth a moment ago, she says--if you don't want to believe it, don't--but that was the truth! Angry, she gathers up her coat and gloves and heads for the door. Burke calls her name and apologizes for losing his temper. You should be, she says. Accept my apology, is won't happen again, he assures her. I'm sorry for you, she says, it's plain to see this woman has got you wrapped around her little finger. That's not true, he says. Isn't it? she asks. I know Laura, he says, she isn't capable of this kind of deception. (Roger doesn't agree.) Maybe you don't know her as well as you think you do, suggests Sarah. I don't want to believe that, he says. Men--you're all alike, says Sarah, just let a pretty woman bat her eyes at you, you believe anything--you think she wants to go to jail?--that's where she'll go if she testifies for you--she'd have to tell that she'd lied in a court of law. She says she doesn't want to protect herself at all, says Roger, she only wants to get even with Roger. She has to say that, points out Sarah, she doesn't want you making any trouble.This undeniable truth hits home. Yes, says Burke. Well? says Sarah. If she's planning to trouble cross me, says Burke viciously, her little plan is going to backfire--she's gonna pay for it!

Cottage - By the fireplace, of course - I'm glad you came to see me today, Laura tells David, her arm around her son--I've missed you! You have? asks David, smiling up at her--I missed you, too. I'm glad, she says, hugging him--it must be getting close to your dinnertime--you going to have to be getting back, they'll be looking for you. Do I have to? he asks. I don't want you to go, she says, but I think it's best--after all, we don't want anyone to find you here, do we? I guess not, he agrees. Are you sure nobody knows you came here? she asks. Nobody knows, he says, Aunt Elizabeth was busy, and I waited until Miss Winters had gone into town. Good, says Laura, because no one must know you're paying me these little visits. Nobody does, he assures her. There are a lot of things your Aunt Elizabeth doesn't understand, says Laura--how much I need you and you need me. I don't understand my aunt, he says, I guess she's just being mean--she never acted this way before. That's because she doesn't understand, says Laura, but one day she will--however, in the meantime, these visits must be our secret, OK? OK, he agrees. I'll get your coat, she says. He picks up a music box and comments on how pretty it is. You want to hear it play? she asks. Sure, he says. She takes it from him and winds it up. He listens to the tune. It's pretty, he says. You like it? she asks. Yes, he says. It's yours, she says. You mean I can have it, for keeps? he asks, joyous. Yes, she says, but I think you'd better leave it here--someone might ask you where you got it, and we don't want anyone to know you've been here. I'll keep it hidden, he swears, looking at it, nobody will find it--please, Mother, let me take it home. It's very difficult to say no to you, she sighs. Then let me have it, he begs, please, Mother?All right, but keep it hidden, she says. I will! he says, closing the music box. I want you to remember something, she says, don't tell anyone--it's got to be our little secret. I like secrets, he says. Good, she says, helping him on with his coat. I'll try to come back tomorrow, he says. Fine, she says, be very careful going home. I will, he says. They say goodbye and he leaves. She looks into the fire, sits down, and smiles with satisfaction.

Liz stares out the drawing room window at the lightning. Thunder rolls. David returns home, music box in hand, and takes off and hangs up his coat. (camera goof) Liz goes into the foyer and calls to him. He hides the music box behind his back. Did I startle you? asks Liz. I thought you were upstairs, he says. I came down a little while ago, she says, where have you been? Out on the beach, playing, he says. You know I don't like you playing on the beach after dark, I've told you a hundred times! Liz chastises I'm sorry, he says. At least you came home before it rained, says Liz. Is dinner ready? he asks. I'll tell Mrs. Johnson to have it ready in a few minutes, she says. Oh, he says, walking backwards, I'll go up and wash my hands. David, why are you backing away from me? she asks--what are you holding behind your back? Nothing, lies David. I can see you're holding something, says Liz, It's nothing important, says David. Show it to me, orders Liz. He holds it out. It's nothing but this old box, he says, handing it to her upside down--I found it on the beach. That's a strange sort of thing for someone to lose on the beach, comments Liz. People are losing odd things on the beach all the time, he says. She looks at it. I've seen this before, she says. You couldn't have, says David, I just found it. Why are you lying? asks Liz. I'm not, he says. I recognize this, says Liz, it belongs to your mother--she gave it to you, didn't she? No! protests David. I've seen it on the table in her cottage, says Liz. Maybe she lost it, suggests David. I don't believe that, says Liz--I think you saw her this afternoon and she gave it to you. No, insists David. Why are you lying to me? asks Liz. Because you wouldn't understand, says David. I'll try to understand, promises Liz. I like my mother, he pouts, I want to see her, but you won't let me see her, and it isn't any fair. Did your mother tell you that? asks Liz. I knew it anyway, says David--why do you have to be so mean to her? I'm not mean to her, says Liz. I think you are, he says. Let's go into the drawing room, she says, I want to talk to you. She leads him in and she sits on the sofa. Are you going to scold me? he asks. No, darling, she says, I just want you to understand a few things--sit down. He does. What do I have to understand? he asks. I wouldn't do anything to hurt your mother, says Liz. Then why won't you let me see her? he asks. Because I have to decide what's best for you, says Liz, and I don't think you and your mother should be together right now. But I LIKE to see her, says David, I want to see her. You didn't a few days ago, she says. That was a few days ago, he says, I was just acting like a stupid baby. You were having those dreams about her, Liz reminds him. But I'm not having those dreams anymore, he says. Just the same, she says, you were having them and they did disturb you. You want my mother to go away, don't you? asks David, armed crossed over his chest. Just for a while, says Liz--I'm not saying she can't come back someday. I don't WANT her to go away! says David, don't you see--please, don't make her go away! I have to decide what's best for you, she explains, even though I have to make a decision you don't like. You wanna get rid of my mother because you hate her! accuses David. That's not true, says Liz. Isn't it? he asks. Of course not, she says, I couldn't hate her because she is your mother, and I love you very much. Well I don't love you! he says. David! cries Liz. I don't! he says. That's a terrible thing to say! says Liz. (David always pulls out that hate card.) I don't care! He says, I don't love you--you don't want my mother to stay, you want her to go away--you're mean!--I hate you! He runs off. Liz is very upset.

Cottage - I'm waiting for an explanation, Burke tells Laura as she twists her hands together. So am I! she counters. You? he asks. You come baring in here when I told you never to come here, and then you just announce that you can't trust me anymore--well, why? I keep my ear to the ground, says Burke--I hear you and Roger are getting very cozy. She makes a face. Who told you that, Vicki? she asks resentfully. Never mind who told me, says Burke--whose side are you one?--Roger's?--mine?--or are you playing both ends against the middle? I already told you whose side I'm on, says Laura--what more can I say? I've a hundred reasons not to trust you, he says. Then don't! she says. Is that all you have to say? he asks. That's all I can say, except goodbye, she says. Aren't you even going to try to defend yourself? asks Burke. No, she replies, goodbye, Burke. she sits by the fire and cries. He sits beside her. Laura... he says. I said goodbye, she reiterates, please go! Don't cry, he says gently. (this gal bird has the moves down!) I just can't help it, she says, because I'm saying goodbye to so much! H turns her to face him. Do you remember what we said to each other a long time ago? she asks him. We said a lot of things, he recalls. We vowed to each other that someday... she sniffs ...we would be together, finishes Burke--is that what you want? Please, go, she says, tears in her voice. Could we ever be together?--is that possible now? he asks. Not if you don't trust me, she says. I want to trust you, he assures her. But you don't, she says, you constantly have to be reassured--you just can't believe I'm honest with you. I believe that you're honest now, he says.

Liz, obviously perturbed, sits alone in the drawing room, the storm loud and obnoxious outside. She finally takes her coat and leaves the house.

I have to appease Roger, Laura explains to Burke, I have to pretend I'm not interested in you because otherwise I'll never get custody of David--can't you understand that? Yes, he says. Then why do you mistrust me? she asks, her eyes limpid and lying. I don't, he says. You didn't a moment ago, she points out. That was a moment ago, he says, and I was wrong. I hope you mean it, she says, for many reasons. I mean it, he says. He touches her cheek. You're very beautiful, he says. She thanks him. Come here, he orders, and draws her into his arms for a kiss. She starts to protest, but responds. From the doorway, Liz cries, "LAURA!", her face filled with fury. She slams the door behind her and surveys Burke and Laura.

Burke and Laura leap to their feet. Liz! says Laura. Don't bother to explain, says Liz, no explanations are necessary. That's right, says Burke. I'm glad we agree, says Liz. I think you'd better go, Laura tells Burke. Are you sure you want me to? he asks. Yes, please go, she says. OK, I'll call you later, he promises--I'm glad you walked in just now, Liz--I like things out in the open. So do I! she retorts. Burke says goodnight to Laura. Burke leaves. I hope you won't try to embarrass either one of us by offering an explanation, says Liz. I suppose there's no point to it, because you won't listen, says Laura. No I won't, agrees Liz--I know what I saw. Appearances can be deceiving, says Laura. Right now I'm not so concerned about you and Burke, says Liz--I'm concerned about what you're doing to David. What am I doing to David? asks Laura. Encouraging him to lie, to meet with you secretly, says Liz. Did he tell you that? asks Laura. I won't have it, says Liz--I've tried to be patient with you, but my patience has come to an end--I'm asking you to leave. But you already have, says Laura. But you haven't done anything about it, says Liz. That's only because I haven't had enough time, says Laura--I need more time! You've had plenty of time, says Liz--I want you to please go! Tonight, in the middle of this storm? Demands Laura. Tomorrow at the latest, says Liz. Is that an ultimatum? Asks Laura. Call is what you wish, says Liz--I've had enough from you--you're not welcome here anymore. And if I refuse to leave? asks Laura. It won't do you any good--you'll never get David, says Liz. How will you stop me? asks Laura. I'll take you to court, says Liz. I must say, you're very good at making threats, aren't you? asks Laura. It's more than a threat, vows Liz--I'll take action--you'll never get David. Never? asks Laura. That's right, says Liz--I'm convinced more than ever that you're not good for him. I think you should know something, says Laura, that if I decide to take David, no power on earth will stop me! What do you mean? asks Liz. You'll find out, says Laura. Will I? asks Liz. Mmm-hmm, says Laura, and I think you'll be very sorry that you tried to interfere with my plans. We'll see, vows Liz--now I want you to leave--do you hear me? Oh yes, says Laura, I hear you.Good, says Liz, and leaves the cottage without a backward look. Laura goes to the fire. She throws another log on it, then sits down and stares into it.

Liz arrives home and closes the doors behind her. She takes off her coat, rubbing her arms against the chill. She calls to Roger when she enters the drawing room, but she's alone. She feels her face. We see Liz and Laura's eyes superimposed. Liz seems to be losing strength as she heads for the stairs, barely able to walk up them. Roger, where are you? asks Liz, feeling suddenly faint.Vicki? Roger? somebody help me! And she tumbles down the stairs.

We see Laura's eyes one more time, then Liz lying at the bottom of the stairs unconscious.

NOTES: Oh, dear, we know what Laura was able to do to Sam with those terrible eyes of hers, what has she now done to Liz? Is the matriarch of Collinwood dead or dying? Poor Liz had no idea what creature she was going up against in her desire to protect David, but Laura is a formidable enemy. Didn't it seem as if Laura was working some bizarre alchemy on Burke--besides her tears, I mean. Is it possible he's that much of a softy where Laura is concerned, or did she use some powers on him? I still don't think Laura really cares much for Burke anymore; I think she's above earthly love now. I think she just wants to keep him out of her way while she works on her dominant goal--getting David out of the clutches of the family.

Liz had to know that trying to keep David and Laura apart wouldn't work, and that they would find a way to see each other despite her orders. Now that the painting that was to serve as a warning has been destroyed, David's real feelings toward his mother have come out--the longing to see her, be with her, like any normal little boy. The painting sent those nightmares, clouded his vision of Laura, so he saw his mother as something evil. The problem is, she apparently IS evil, with evil intentions toward him. Apparently Josette sent Vicki and Frank to the crypt so they would learn new information about Laura and hopefully prevent a tragedy.

Love Sarah with Burke. She almost seems to be baiting him when she asks him all those sly little questions about Laura's loyalty, then she lowers the boom. It seemed as if she did it that way to get maximum exposure out of her big news, toying with Burke like a cat with a mouse. Burke's fury and disbelief that Laura is lying to him seems to go hand in hand with her hold over him, a hold I still suspect is more supernatural than man-woman passionate.

Have a great weekend!

Love, Robin

Episode #150 - The flames in the fireplace at Collinwood blazed fiercely as a painting was consumed by fire, but no one at Collinwood can explain the unearthly scream that filled the great house.

Roger gazes nervously into the fireplace, where nothing is now left of the painting but the frame. Vicki comes in and reports that Mr. Evans is gone. I'm glad for small favors, remarks Roger. He was very disturbed, she says. You are the master of the understatement, he says drolly. That scream--where could it have come from? she asks. I don't know, Roger says, I just wonder if we really heard it. It was a woman's scream, says Vicki. It seems to have come from the fireplace, of all ridiculous places, he says. Yes, she says, you threw that painting in, and that's when we heard it. Oh, I don't think it was a scream at all, says Roger--it was just carried away with the hysteria of the moment. We all heard it, points out Vicki, what was it if it wasn't a scream? We were all looking at the fireplace, he says, it was probably the wind blowing in the chimney. Perhaps, she says. It couldn't have been a scream, he insists--there's just got to be a logical answer for it, that's all. Then what is the logical answer for David's face being painted into that picture? she asks.Roger has no answer for that one, and his face shows annoyance at that.

I'm sick of hearing about that painting, complains Roger. We all are, Vicki agrees. The best thing we can do about it is forget it, he says, pouring a drink. We can't! says Vicki. I can, and will, says Roger. That's your privilege, she says, but there are too many questions left unanswered and too much to be faced. All right then, he says, you face it, and when you get the answers, you let me know. (great father.) He drinks. There's something you're going to have to face in a little while, she reminds him--David--he's going to have to be told about that painting. He'll be told, says Roger. What are you going to tell him? Vicki asks. I don't know, I'll make it up as I go along, says Roger. You've got to prepare something, she says. It isn't necessary for you to tell me how to deal with my own son, says Roger. He's going to want to know about everything, says Vicki. I'll tell him what he needs to know, Roger says. Liz enters, removing her coat. Know about what? she asks. Hello, Liz, says Roger--we were just debating how much of this nonsense to tell David, all or half. What nonsense are you referring to? she asks. Where have you been? he asks. Walking the grounds, she says. You missed the fireworks--literally, he tells her, sitting on the sofa--I decided the time had come to destroy the painting, the ashes of which lie yonder. You burned it? asks Liz, gazing into the fireplace. It had to be done, says Roger. I agree, but what made you do it? she asks. A series of circumstances which unfortunately had gone too far, he says--I tried getting that thing out of my head, and every time I talk about it, I hope it's the last time. Will there ever be a last time? inquires Liz. Yes, he says. What makes you so certain? She asks. The painting is done with, and as soon as we can get it out of David's mind, then it's finished. Is that why you did it? she asks. Basically, he says. I think Mrs. Stoddard should be told everything, says Vicki. I know how to deal with this, says Roger, I know what to tell her. All right, relents Vicki--excuse me, I want to check on David's dinner. Liz sits beside Roger as he explains that Vicki's referring to a little incident that happened a little while ago--Sam Evans gave us the pleasure of his company. To present us with another painting? she asks. No, he wanted to see the one he'd done of Laura, says Roger, oh, it all sounds so phony to me--he claimed he had a feeling the painting had been finished--and the curious part of it was, it was finished--the empty space had been filled in. What was there? asks Liz. David, replies Roger. I don't understand, says Liz. The last time we saw that painting, there were two people in it--Laura and David, says Roger. Did Sam paint it in? asks Liz. He says he didn't, says Roger. Did he have access to it? she asks. Not that I know of, says Roger. Then how? asks Liz. All I know is, says Roger, that some time between this morning and this evening, the painting was finished. I'd have known if there was someone in the house, insists Liz. All right! he says, the painting was completed--we may find out who did it and we may never know--as far as I'm concerned, it couldn't matter less, it's just another question mark about the things that go on around here. Doesn't it bother you that there was a painting of your wife and son burning in a fire? asks Liz, rising from the sofa. Why should it, it was only a painting? he says. Much as I wanted to be rid of it, she says, I think you made a mistake. Did I really? he asks, nibbling on something (nuts, perhaps?), everybody hated the painting and did nothing about it--it was a thorn in everybody's side, and I removed it. You haven't taken David's reaction into consideration, she says. David is not the judge of what is good or bad for him, says Roger, that is my responsibility. Then I hope you're prepared to deal with him, says Liz, because I don't think he's going to take it easily. She focuses on the fire, Roger looks uncomfortable.

David enters his room, a wrapped gift in his arms. He removes his coat and turns, spotting the empty space where the painting was. My painting! he cries, and begins to frantically search his room.

Drawing room - David has got to learn that life isn't always going to go to the way he wants it to, Roger tells Liz. There are ways of teaching him other than destroying an object he has strong feelings about, says Liz. Toss him in the water, I say, says Roger--he'll either sink or swim. (great father #2) The possibility of sinking is much too strong, I'm afraid, says Liz. Where's my painting? demands David petulantly, entering the drawing room. Here it comes, says Roger. You'd better deal with it carefully, advises Liz. David runs in. What do you mean, running through the house like this? asks Roger. My painting's gone, he says. Listen, you're all excited, just calm down, says Roger. Where is it? asks David, I want it! If you're going to talk to me, you change your tone, young man, commands Roger. You took it! accuses David. Listen, there are some things that you have to understand, says Roger. Give it to me, it's mine! says David.I want you to listen to me very carefully, says Roger. I don't want to listen! says David. If you want to find out about that painting, you'll have to listen! says Roger. Then you did take it! says David. It has nothing to do with taking, says Roger--it has to do with what's right, good and what's bad--that painting is definitely bad. I want it! says David. You have had the worst possible dreams, says Roger, and your behavior has been very peculiar since that painting came into this house--the time had come for it to stop. I don't want it to stop, says David--the painting was trying to tell me something--last night I almost knew what it was trying to say--now tonight I know I'll know--that's why you've got to give it back. I can't, says Roger. You'd better give it back, threatens David. Now David, says Liz warningly. I won't have you threaten me, young man, says Roger angrily. What did you do with it? demands David. The painting has been permanently gotten rid of, says Roger. What do you mean? asks David, arms crossed over his chest. I had to destroy it, says Roger. Destroy it? asks David, horrified. It had to be done, says Roger. No, wails David, no. Liz takes him in her arms. You burned it, says David--you burned it. How did you know? asks Roger. David runs to the fireplace. My painting! he wails. Don't get too close, warns Liz. David gazes into the flames. My painting! he cries, it's all burned up--now I'll never see it again--there's nothing left of it--now I won't know what it was trying to tell me. I'll be glad when you get that notion out of your head, says Roger. Everyone's against me, says David, nobody wanted me to have that painting--nobody wants me to have it now--you all hate me--you hate me! And he races from the room, upstairs, Liz calling plaintively after him. Vicki comes out of the kitchen, asking what's the matter. He just found out about the painting, says Liz, you'd better go upstairs and try to calm him down. I will, says Vicki, and heads upstairs. You certainly dealt deftly with him, says Liz sarcastically. (great father #3) I was very direct, I admit, says Roger--it's all part of the growing up process, he's got to learn it sooner or later, this is the first step. You really don't seem to care what you say to him, says Liz, how much you hurt him, how much you alienate him. That's why I'm so sure he's be much better off with his mother, says Roger. Are you? asks Liz. Absolutely, says Roger. (#4) Let me tell you something, she says, I can see right through your little campaign of giving David to Laura, but I won't let you do it--the child is frightened of her--and I've had enough of her and the air of mystery that surrounds her--someone must tell her she can't see David anymore.Don't do that, says Roger. I'm going to do it--right now, says Liz, and marches off determinedly, out the door. Roger looks perturbed.

David lies on his bed in his room, crying, tears all over his face (they overdid the waterworks). Vicki enters; he buries his head in the pillow. She sits next to him--David, she says. What do you want? he asks. I want you to stop crying, she says. Leave me alone, he says. I'm sorry about the painting, she says. Sure, he says. I mean it, I am, she assures him. You let my father throw it in the fireplace, he accuses. I can't tell your father what not to do, says Vicki. Why does everybody want to take everything away from me? he asks. That's not true, she says, smoothing back his hair, everybody wants what's best for you. I don't believe you, he says. You must, she says. You gave me the painting, he reminds her, then you tried to take it away--I don't understand! I don't either, she admits. That's because you're against me, too, he says resentfully. Don't say that, she says. It's true, you are, he says, and commences to sobbing again.

Cottage - Laura's fireplace. She sits there, in her usual odd trance, not hearing Liz' knock at the door at first. Coming out of it, she answers the door and invites Liz in, saying it's nice to see her--I don't often have visitors. I suppose it is a bit lonely here for you, says Liz. I don't mind, says Laura, actually, I'm used to be being alone--and perhaps things will be different in the near future. That's hard to say, says Liz evasively, I wouldn't want to predict. I'm sorry we're not getting along, says Laura, I know you've always had a strong feeling against me, I wish I knew some way to change it. I wish I knew too, honestly, says Liz, but I'm sure you wouldn't want me to be a hypocrite and assume an attitude I didn't feel. Of course not, says Laura, you've always been straightforward, it would be silly for you to change now--won't you take off your coat and sit down? No thank you, says Liz. Can I fix you something? asks Laura. I'll only be a minute, says Liz. I have the feeling that you're about to say something unpleasant, says Laura, sitting by the fire. I wish I didn't have to, says Liz, I wish I could say something to make you happy--I think you deserve it. Then I assume you've come to re-affirm your position of the other night, says Laura, that David and I are making no progress. I'm going to go farther than that, says Liz--I'm convinced your coming back here was a terrible mistake--David's behavior is like something we've never seen before, and it's all centered on you. I'm certain it's going to work out, says Laura, this is just a temporary stage he's going through--he's affected by many little things, but my presence here can only show him his life can change. His life has changed, says Liz, for the worse--he has constant nightmares, and is retreating more and more from reality--and there's no doubt in my mind that it's because of your presence here--so I don't think you should see him anymore. Laura rises. That's a very strong statement to make, she says. I don't like making it, but I've given it a lot of through, says Liz. You think you have the right to say a thing like that? demands Laura. Yes, replies Liz. Well I don't, I'm his mother! says Laura. Regardless of the relationship, he doesn't want to be with you--isn't that enough? asks Liz. No! says Laura, I haven't had enough time with him, I need more time. He doesn't want to be with you, says Liz, and I think you should stay away from him. I'll never learn to know him that way, says Laura, I've got to talk to him. That wouldn't be advisable, says Liz, he's particularly upset tonight. Why? asks Laura. Because the painting was destroyed, says Liz--Roger finally lost his patience and threw it into the fireplace. Then it's more important than ever that I see him, insists Laura--that painting was the one obstacle standing in my path and now it's been removed. I'm afraid it won't work, says Liz, it's best you leave him alone, give him more time. Time is not an easy thing to give, says Laura. You'll have to wait, says Liz. I can't, says Laura. I insist, says Liz.Do you? asks Laura, an edge to her voice. Yes, says Liz. Then we'll see which of us will be the timekeeper, says Laura. (ooh, Liz, watch out!)

David, wearing pajamas, lies in bed, under the covers. You didn't have to stay here, he tells Vicki, who is sitting on his bed. I thought I'd just stay until you fell asleep, she says. I wish you wouldn't, he says. Why not? she asks. Because I don't feel like having somebody watch over me, he says. I thought you might want to talk, she says. I don't, David tells her, all I wish I could do is look at my painting. You've got to forget about that painting, she says. I can't, he says. You will, in time, she assures him. I'll always remember it, he says. For now, why don't you close your eyes, she says. He protests, but does so. Before you know it, you'll be fast asleep, she promises him. Do you remember the story my mother told me the other night? he asks. The one about the phoenix, she recalls. Yes, he says--if I close my eyes and try to go to sleep, would you tell it to me? I don't know all of it, she says. Just tell me whatever you know, he asks. All right, she agrees, and he huddles happily under the covers. Once upon a time, in a sunny land, says Vicki, there lived a magnificent bird called the phoenix--every day it would soar high over the countryside--but one day, it knew it was going to die--so it built a nest of spices in the finest tree it could find and spent one last night there--next morning, the sun's rays warmed the nest, and the phoenix fanned the heat with its wings into enormous flames...

We see the flames leaping in Laura's fireplace as she looks out the window.

Liz returns to Collinwood, takes off her coat and tosses it onto a chair. Did you see Laura? asks Roger, who is stretched out on the sofa, reading a book. Yes, says Liz. What was the outcome? asks Roger. The outcome will be determined, she replies. How? he asks. By which one of us is the stronger, she says. Sounds like you ladies squared off, says Roger. Possibly, says Liz. That would have been something to see, he says, flipping the pages of his book. I'm glad you're taking it so lightly, says Liz, your wife and son have a problem--and you're ducking the issue just like you duck everything else. (nasty, but true.) Very vindictive tonight, he notes. I told Laura she couldn't see David anymore, reveals Liz. That's pretty drastic, says Roger, standing. It's the best I can do for now, says Liz, if she doesn't stop seeing him, I'll have to go further. I see says Roger. Vicki enters. Roger asks her if she calmed David down. He's asleep, she says. Let's hope he sleeps through the night, says Liz. I think he's used up all his tears, says Vicki. My concern is he doesn't have to shed anymore, says Liz--David must be protected.

David, tears still on his face, cries in his sleep. Laura, in his room, calls to him. I'm here, I've come to you, she croons...David, you're crying. He sits up in bed. Who's there? he demands. It's Mother, she says, why are you crying? They took my painting away, he says. I don't like to see you so sad, she says. They shouldn't have done that! he says. Here, dry your eyes, she says, handing him a handkerchief. He wipes his face and tries to hand it back. You keep it, she says, in case you have to cry again. I won't cry, he says. I've missed you these last few days, she says. I've been very busy, he hedges. We'll make up for it, she says. Yes, I guess we will, he says. We'll spend more time together, she says. Sure, he says. I'll never leave you alone, I'll take you with me, she says (creepy words, somehow). Are you going away? he asks. Well, perhaps I might have to go, she says, but I'll never leave without you. That's good, he says, wiping his face again.He moves to hand her back the handkerchief, but she's disappeared. Mother? he asks, settling back in bed, puzzled. He lies back down, dropping the handkerchief on the floor.

NOTES: Laura was able to appear in David's room suddenly, and disappear just as suddenly. Is this one of her supernatural talents? Did her giving him the handkerchief mean something? Now that the painting, which may very well have been a form of supernatural protection from Josette, has been destroyed, will Laura be able to get to her son? Will Liz' decision to forbid Laura seeing her son be for naught?

I think Liz is in trouble. This woman is not human, and might possess powers that could really harm Liz.

I love the way Liz goes after Roger, telling him truths about himself he might not want to hear. He really does want to brush David off as if he's an annoying fly, get rid of him, in the guise of doing what's right for him. He still hasn't become a decent father, but I guess that will take time.


Episode #151 - After a night of mysterious events and unexplainable visitations, morning comes to Collinwood with the guise of innocence that will soon be shattered by disturbing news.

David lies sleeping. Liz enters and closes his window. David, she calls, it's time to wake up. Good morning, he says. My what a sleepyhead you are, she says--it's not very late, but it's time you were up and around--it's a beautiful day. To tell the truth, I didn't get to sleep for a long time, he says. What was the matter? his aunt asks--were you upset about not having your painting anymore? Yes, he says. Believe me, she says, it's for the best. But it was my painting, he says. We'll get you another one, she assures him. It doesn't make any difference, he says, I cried and I cried an awful lot. I'm sorry, darling, she says. Then when my mother came...he begins. Your mother? asks Liz. Yes, he says, she came and visited me. She couldn't have, says Liz, you must have dreamed it. It wasn't a dream, says David, she was real, here. Your mother couldn't have been here last night, insists Liz. She was, says David, it was real, not a dream, honest--I can prove it, too--he reaches for the fallen handkerchief and hands it to Liz. That's hers, he says. Yes it is, agrees Liz, surprised.

Where did you get this? Liz asks her nephew. My mother gave it to me, he says. Are you sure it was last night? she asks. Yes, he says, here, she was here, honest! All right, I believe you, she says--when, about what time? It was right after I found out about them taking away my picture, he says--I was alone, and boy, did I feel awful. How was your mother? asks Liz--as in your dream, did she frighten you?Not at all, he says. I'm glad of that, says Liz. She was very nice, says David--it was sort of like my dream, not like the ones I had after she came here, but the ones before, when I dreamed what it would be like when she didn't come here--I didn't see her come in--I woke up and there she was. Did it startle you? asks Liz. Yes, says David, thinking it was a dream and everything--but she was nice, she made me feel better--but she was really here. I'm glad she was nice, says Liz--and it's time for you to get out of bed--rise and shine. He smiles and climbs out of bed. Now I know how silly I was when I didn't like her, he says. Sometimes bad dreams make us do strange things, says Liz, things we don't want to do at all--what are you going to wear today? Whatever is there on the chair, he says--but there's nothing there. I guess Miss Winters didn't put it out, says David. Aren't you forgetting something? asks Liz--the operation of getting washed? Why? he asks. Habit, she says. OK, he agrees--you know, I don't understand grownups, one minute they're telling you to start a habit, and then the very same exact minute, you've got to break one. I'm glad to see you cheerful again, she says. You've got to thank my mother for that, says David, his robe on his arm. That's what I intend to do, says Liz. She made me feel good, says David, only... Only what? asks Liz--did something happen you didn't tell me about? Nothing happened, he says, it's something we said--we just talked about me going away with her, together, just the two of us. I see, says Liz. What did she mean? asks David. I don't know, says Liz. Is it true? he asks. Perhaps she meant she'd take you on a vacation someday, suggests Liz. Not someday, says David--sooner than that. He exits his room. Liz, standing in the doorway, asks him if he'd like to go away with his mother. I don't know, he says, I haven't thought about it--maybe. He walks off, and Liz looks unhappy.

Liz and Roger sit at the breakfast table. I won't have it, insists Liz, I simply won't have it! Really, says Roger, all this anguish at breakfast--it can't be good for the digestion. He works on his food. Can't you ever think of anyone but yourself? she asks. Darling, when you get right down to it, says Roger, what else is there? Your son, she says. I'm sure things will be a lot easier when he goes away with his mother, says Roger--I'll think of him often--I'll recall him fondly--from a distance. I'm sure you're only trying to be clever, she says. Roger pops two slices of bread into the toaster. I don't think you'll get that opportunity, says Liz. I don't think you have much to say about the matter, Roger tells her, after all, Laura and I are the boy's parents. I told Laura I didn't want her to see David, says Liz,. You think you can still run the world, he says--sadly, it's your problem, not ours, but you can't, you know. While you're living under this roof, you'll respect my wishes, says Liz. Things can always change, says Roger. Be careful, she says, please don't push me so I'm forced to ask you to leave this house. Remember, he says, taking what appears to be untoasted toast from the toaster and handing it to Liz, if you send me away, you lose David--he goes with me. If you let Laura have him, he goes anyway, says Liz. If David really wants to be with Laura, says Roger--if it makes him, happy, isn't that the best thing for him? If he genuinely wants to go with her, and she proves to me she's capable of taking care of him, then yes, says Liz. Then you wouldn't stand in his way? asks Roger. No, I suppose not, says Liz. That's all I wanted to know, says Roger. Carolyn enters. What's all you wanted to know? she asks. The latest recipe for a witch's brew, he teases--you know what a gourmet I am. (wait for Cassandra.) If it's an expensive habit, you have it, says Carolyn, kissing Liz' cheek. I'd better be off, says Roger, I have a million things to do. You only have one thing to do, says Liz, and you know what it is. Good morning, ladies, says Roger, and exits. What was that all about? asks Carolyn, pouring coffee for herself. Just Roger playing one of his games with me, says Liz. Have you seen David this morning? asks Carolyn. Yes, he's upstairs dressing, says Liz--he seemed happy as a lark. That's strange, says Carolyn, sitting at the table--after that picture burned up, I thought he'd be miserable--he had that ghoulish attachment to it. She sips her coffee. The picture may have been ghoulish, says Liz, but I don't think his attachment to it was--it was a picture of his mother. Some mother she is, says Carolyn. I won't have you talking that way about her, says Liz, she's still your aunt, and your elder. Not by that much, says Carolyn, we seem to enjoy the same playmates. What do you mean by that cryptic remark? asks Liz. Nothing, says Carolyn, rising from the table, skip it. No, tell me, says Liz. Very well, agrees Carolyn--my favorite playmate was Burke Devlin. Was, says Liz--glad to see you're being sensible. I'm not the one who's being sensible, says Carolyn--he is. I'm glad he's capable of it, says Liz. He's capable of many things, she says, like finding a new playmate--I'm referring, of course, to dear, sweet Aunt Laura. What? asks Liz. Once a playmate, always a playmate, says Carolyn bitterly. I insist that you tell me everything you know about Laura and Burke, says Liz.

I'm waiting, says Liz to her daughter--tell me what you know about Laura and Burke. It's no secret that he wanted to marry her before Uncle Roger did, says Carolyn. I wish he had, says Liz venomously. It's also no secret that he hates this family, says Carolyn. That didn't stop him from seeing you whenever he could, says Liz. Yes, I though I was the one great exception, says Carolyn. Weren't you? asks Liz. No, says Carolyn, he was just using me the way he uses everybody--you once told me that Burke as out to destroy this family--I didn't believe you, I thought you were exaggerating. And now I take it you don't think that,. says Liz. No, says Carolyn--he doesn't see me anymore because he's found somebody else who will be even more helpful to him in that purpose--Laura. I doubt whether she'll be very helpful to him, says Liz--Laura knows what she wants--custody of David--she can only get that if she's in our good graces--surely she knows that if she sees Burke, she'll alienate us. Carolyn grins. You talk as if Laura was a normal, well-balanced woman, says Carolyn, normal, well balanced women are not committed to insane asylums. Laura has a breakdown; that was some time ago, says Liz--she's all right now. A person who breaks down once can break down again, points out Carolyn. Laura's a little headstrong, says Liz, but I'm quite certain she isn't even slightly insane. All right, have it your way, says Carolyn, she's perfectly sane--her feeling for Burke is a normal, healthy passion--a woman who's experiencing that might do almost anything for the man involved--what would Burke most want her to do? You're forgetting about David, says Liz, she wants him, and mother love is a strong emotion. After all these years, where does it suddenly come from? asks Carolyn--why did she never make any attempts to communicate with David, even when she was getting well. Because she knew he wouldn't like it, says Liz. That would account for a kind of weak mother love, says Carolyn--when she suddenly appeared, without telling anyone she was coming back, why was Burke one of the first people to speak with her? I don't know, admits Liz. After everything we've put her through, how fond do you think she is of Uncle Roger--of any of us? wonders Carolyn--do you think she'd be above wanting to hurt us?--do you think it might not even be considered normal for her to want to? I suppose it could, admits Liz. What would be the best way for Laura and Burke to hurt us? asks Carolyn.Through David, says Liz, the last of the Collins--the one hope of our name being carried on--oh, Carolyn--David! Yes, Mother, says Carolyn--David. Liz gets up from the table. Laura must go, she must leave here immediately! Insists Liz.

David plays on his bed with soldiers, moving them around on a chess board. when someone knocks, he hides the soldiers under the pillow and sits on his bed with a book. It's Roger. I just thought I'd stop by and have a little chat with you, son, he says. What about? asks David. It so happens you've done something to please me for a change, says Roger, sitting on the bed with him. I have? asks David. Yes, says Roger. I can't think of what that could be, says David. It seems that you had a visitor last night, says Roger. If my mother wants to see me, says David defensively, I can't help it, you wouldn't want me to be rude, would you? I don't mind you seeing your mother, says Roger. You don't? asks David. Of course not, says Roger, I'm very glad that you're beginning to enjoy your mother's company--I think it's very good for you--there are some things that only a mother can give a boy--aunts and governesses are no substitute--one could say that it's even better for a little boy to be with his mother than with his father. You could? asks David. No, I didn't say that *I* could, says Roger, I said one could--I really must speak to Vicki about your syntax. My WHAT? asks David. Never mind, says Roger, and also, it's very good for your mother to be with you--she needs you--her life hasn't been very easy. It hasn't? he asks. I wish you would stop asking me these two-word questions, complains Roger--you're doing it only to irritate me--I'm trying to have a man to man talk with you, boy, and all I'm trying to says is, I'd like you to get to know your mother a little closer--and I think you'd like that, too. I think so, says David. You might even take a trip with her, says Roger. She did mention something about a trip, recalls David. That would be jolly (!) says Roger--you'd have a wonderful time. I guess it would be all right, agrees David. Of course it would, says Roger--that's what you really want--you just keep thinking of that--and you might mention it to your aunt Liz.He gives David a friendly pat on the arm and adds, "You know, David, when you want to, you can be a very intelligent little fella." He leaves his son's room, smiling at him. David doesn't return the smile, but seems deep in thought.

David goes back to playing with his soldiers on the checker board. Another knock at his door makes him hide it all and pretend again to be reading a book. It's Carolyn, who says she hopes she's not disturbing him. No, he tells her, I'm having so many visitors today--I don't know how you can expect me to study with all these interruptions. (LOL!) She picks up a solider from the bed and holds it in front of him--yes I see how hard you've been studying, she teases. He takes it from her. Secret? He asks. Secret, she agrees. (finally, a nice scene between these two.) That's good, he says, and takes all the other soldiers out and sets them up on the board. Carolyn sits on his bed. I was sorry to hear about your picture, she says. That's all right, he says, it doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't?--I thought you were so fond of it, she says. That was before, not now, he says. Oh, that's certainly a fast turnabout, she says. With my real mother around, who needs a picture? He asks. Your real mother was around before you had the picture, points out Carolyn, and you didn't feel that way. That was different, he says. You were even frightened of her, says Carolyn. Not of her, of my dream, he says, but I don't have those dreams anymore--now I know how much I like her, and that I was so stupid before. I wouldn't get too attached to her if I were you, she advises. Who not? he asks. Because she might have to go away again, says Carolyn. If she went away, she'd take me, he says. How do you know? she asks. She said so, he says. Your father might not permit that, says Carolyn. He will, he said he will! cries David, upset. All right, soothes Carolyn, calm down. You don't like my mother, do you? he ask. Of course I do, says Carolyn, I'd just hate to see you leave us--I thought you were happy here--I thought you loved us. I do, he says. Then why do you want to go away from us? asks Carolyn. It wouldn't be forever, he says. If you go with your mother, it would be, insists Carolyn. I don't understand, says David, everyone's telling me to go and to stay. I'm sorry, says Carolyn, it's just that we want what's best for you--we want you to be happy--you do whatever you want to do most--if it's what you want, it's what we want--I'll see you later. She leaves. He continues playing with his soldiers. You're dead, he says, knocking over one solider with another--you're dead.

Carolyn finds her uncle in the drawing room and asks what he's doing. Finishing my puzzle, Kitten, he tells her. Which one? she asks. The crossword, he says. Oh, she says, THAT puzzle. What puzzle did you have in mind? he asks. One much closer to you, she hints. The crossword puzzle's on my lap, he says, what could be closer? The puzzle of Burke Devlin and your wife, she says. That's no puzzle at all, says Roger--Burke's been trying to use Laura, and I put a stop to it. Have you really? she asks, sitting next to him--Burke doesn't seem to be aware of that fact. The degree of Mr. Devlin's sense of awareness couldn't interest me less, says Roger, as long as Laura is my wife and wants David, she'll do what I say until after the divorce. What about after the divorce? Asks Carolyn--Laura will have David, Burke will have her--and what will you have? You don't know what you're talking about, he says. Don't I? she asks, she and Burke had a thing for each other before she married you--Burke still feels the same way--and Laura hasn't done anything to discourage that feeling. We'll see about that, promises Roger--I'll take care of that, put a stop to it--you just watch. I'll be watching, she assures him, smiling--you can bet on that--I'll be watching. Roger goes back to his puzzle...

NOTES: David's dreams about his mother have undergone a big change--now they're more like the happy ones he had of her before she showed up. Some might think that a change for the good, and Liz seems to be heading in that direction. Now that the painting is gone, the one obstacle between Laura and David has been removed. That painting caused David's nightmares, his fear toward his mother, which WE know is a good thing, a protection from supernatural creatures who care about David, but no one else does. While all the adults felt it best to destroy the painting, the audience knows otherwise. Only Liz had doubts, and they almost seemed erased in the light of David's seemingly normal, happy awakening. However, the fact that Laura appears to have renewed her relationship with Burke might prove to be the only saving grace; Liz will renew her campaign to keep Laura and David apart if she believes Laura to be consorting with the enemy.

However, I don't see much in the way of love in Burke's relationship with Laura--they each want something from the other, and it isn't shared passion. He wants a re-trial, she wants David. I haven't really seen much, beside the heated scene in the cottage, that indicates they've gone back to their former feelings. In Burke's case, I think it's supernaturally caused, anyway.

Cute scene between Carolyn and David. Did she really mean it when she told David to do what he wants? Is she pretending to like him, given her constant "little monster" comments in the past? It was nice to see them acting kindly toward each other, foreign, too.

What will Roger do to ensure Burke and Laura don't hook up? What will Liz do to prevent Laura from taking David away? Now that he seems willing to go with her, is he in more danger than ever? Scorecard: Liz is dead set against David being with his mother. Roger is all for it, as is Laura. Carolyn seemed to discourage it, then said he should make up his own mind. No wonder the poor kid is so mixed up.

Love, Robin

Episode #146 - A painting has caused great concern among those at Collinwood, particularly for one who is the subject of the painting--and for another, the man who painted it.

Laura stares into the fire, willing Sam, who is holding a lit cigarette, to fall asleep. She gazes into the camera, at us, fixing us with frightening orbs. Sam struggles to remain awake as we see Laura's eyes in extreme close-up. Finally, he drops the cigarette onto the newspapers lying on the floor. Laura's eyes are juxtaposed with Sam as he fights sleep and the room fills with flames and smoke.

Liz enters the drawing room and calls to Laura, who doesn't hear her. Sam twists in sleep, unaware of the danger he's in.

Sam struggles, covering his face in his sleep, moaning.
Liz goes over to Laura and calls her name, twice, and finally puts her hand on her shoulder. Laura bares her teeth, her eyes wide, expression feral, and her concentration is broken. FIRE! HELP! yells Sam, who rolls off the sofa and burns his hands attempting to tamp out the flames. Maggie runs in. Get away from it! she screams, dousing the flames with a blanket. I think it's out, she says. My hands! cries Sam, holding them close to his chest--she burned my hands! Maggie covers her mouth in horror, asking what he means. I'm telling you--she burned my hands! he insists.

Liz asks Laura what's the matter--is something wrong? Recovering, Laura rises from the fireplace seat. I was startled, she tells Liz. My fault, says the latter, for coming up in back of you so quietly--you must have been very deep in thought. My mind was somewhere else, admits Laura, that often happens to me when I'm staring into a fire, I shouldn't have become so deeply involved. That expression on your face, says Liz--I've never seen anything like it before. I apologize, says Laura, I don't think I knew what was happening, or where I was--was it very ugly? Yes, says Liz--not really, maybe it was just surprise--I don't know how to describe it to you. If it wasn't complimentary, don't bother to try, says Laura with a touch of humor. It was far from complimentary, says Liz, disturbed, as Laura walks back to the fire, it was frightening. The women look at each other.

Sam, wincing, holds up his burnt hands, which are covered with towels. Maggie is on the phone with the doctor, explaining that she wrapped her father's hands in cold, wet towels--thank you, goodbye--the doctor will be right over--how do they feel? Pretty bad, says Sam. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable? She asks--would you like a drink. Not now, says Sam, I couldn't hold a glass (good!). He chuckles--I'd like to see your mother now--she always said she'd like to see the day when I couldn't pick up a glass. Maggie hugs him, assuring him he'll be all right--it could have been worse. That's one way of looking at it, he agrees. She asks if he wants her to pour cold water over the towels. No, he says, the pain's easing up a bit--I think the left one us worse than the other one--I won't be able to hold a brush for a long time, I guess. She pats his shoulder, assuring him it won't be that long. She said she'd get me--and she kept her word, says Sam through gritted teeth. What do you mean? asks Maggie--who? Laura Collins, he says. Pop! she chastises. She did this to me, he says viciously--she burned me! You've got to stop talking like that, says Maggie--that's a terrible thing to say! I know what I'm talking about, insists Sam. The responsibility is yours whether you like it or not, says Maggie--I told you to watch that cigarette. That has nothing to do with it, says Sam. The cigarette lit the newspapers, didn't it? she asks him. I've never fallen asleep with a lighted cigarette in my life, says Sam. This was the first time, Maggie says. I'm telling you, he says, my feet hurt a little bit and I was lying down on the sofa, but I wasn't tired. You look pretty shot to me, she says. I was just lying there when all of a sudden something seemed to come over me, he says. I think they call it alcohol, says Maggie with sarcasm. You refuse to believe me don't you? he asks angrily. I can't take much more of this! wails Maggie, clenching her hands, things are getting worse--you get further and further away from reality, from truth--you're right, you're harder to believe now than you ever were--you blame everything on the unknown, the unseeable, the intangible--when I look for evidence, I have to see something, like...like this charred bit on the floor, I know what that came from! I swear to you, he says, Laura Collins did it! He holds up his hands, and she looks at them, then at him, not believing him. She walks to the window and gazes out Sam goes to his daughter. What can I say? he asks, that will convince you? I don't think there's anything, she says. There's a whole chain of events to prove what I'm saying, he insists. I don't want to talk about it, she says, the only thing that interests me as far as Laura Collins is concerned is what happened when she was here. That's what I'm going to tell you, he says, we got right down to cases--she wanted to know why I was painting these paintings, so I countered with the same question--she said it was hurting her relationship with her son. I'm sure it is, says Maggie, I can sympathize with her. Oh, don't be so free to sympathize with her, says Sam--she's not that sorrowful--you'd know it if you could have heard her threaten me. What threat did she make? asks Maggie. she said she'd see to it that I stopped painting, says Sam. If I were in her place, says Maggie, I'd probably have said the same thing. There was something in her voice and look that told me she'd meant she'd go all the way, says Sam. What did she do then? asks Maggie--sneak in here and put a match to those newspapers? It's hard to explain, says Sam--just some kind of influence, I don't know, when I dozed off, I just kept seeing her face.Yes, that's where you and I are in complete agreement, says Maggie--Laura Collins exists mostly in your imagination.

Laura sits by the fire. She and Liz are silent, but Liz closes the double doors, turns on a lamp and sits on the sofa. I think it's time to take a look at where we stand, says Liz. Don't we know that already? Asks Laura. We know what we want, agrees Liz, but there seems to be a question about where we are--how are you getting along with David? Considering the length of time I've been away, says Laura, I think very well. On the contrary, says Liz, I'm forced to disagree with you. Why? asks Laura. I don't want to upset you, says Liz, but I'm not pleased with the way you're progressing with David--in fact, I don't think you're making any progress at all How can you say such a thing? demands Laura. Judging by his attitude toward you, says Liz--his first reaction was strange, but I understood that. He got over it, says Laura. It seems so, says Liz, but now he's avoiding you. It's just a stage he's going through, says Laura--very shortly, we'll be close than we've ever been. I don't know, says Liz with doubt--his feelings toward you seem to be apprehensive, even fearful. He can't be afraid of me, insists Laura, there's no reason for it. There are strong indications of it, says Liz. He's only a child, his emotions change every 15 minutes, says Laura. He's had nightmares ever since you came back to Collinsport, says Liz, and they seem to grow worse. But you're placing too much importance on dreams, insists Laura. Recurring dreams are an indication of disturbance, says Liz. That can easily be explained, says Laura--I think it's that dreadful painting hanging in his room. that's possible, agrees Liz, but it's not the whole answer--you're a very different person than you used to be. Would you prefer me to be the old way? asks Laura. No, says Liz. I think perhaps I need more help than I thought, says Laura--David should be encouraged to spend more time with me. Would that do anything with his nightmares? Asks Liz. Possibly not, agrees Laura, but I think that painting should be removed from his room--from the house!--I think then maybe his dreams would stop. It would help, I'm sure, agrees Liz, rising--I don't know why he wants it I didn't want him to have it, says Laura, but he flattered me into it by saying he wanted a picture of me. I don't know what made Sam paint a picture like that, says Liz--I know his work, and it isn't his style. I went to his house tonight to try and find out, says Laura--he was vague, drunk, impossible--he started another painting almost exactly like the one in David's room. Why would he do a thing like that? asks Liz. I don't know, but he's got to stop, insists Laura--it's ruining everything for me--and I haven't much time. At this wistful statement, Liz eyes Laura strangely.

You haven't time? asks Liz. It's just that I haven't time to stay to do what I tried to do, says Laura, sitting by the fire. Do you think you could walk in and have everything go your way? asks Liz. No, but I didn't expect to find the kind of obstacles that I found, says Laura. Roger enters, greets them both and asks if they're warming themselves by the fire. Laura and I were talking abut David, says Liz, and I think you ought to hear what I have to say. I'd like to, says Roger. I think Laura's presence here is disturbing to David, says Liz. Now really, Liz, objects Roger. His behavior and nightmares...begins Liz. That child has always misbehaved, says Roger, and had the worst possible dreams imaginable, for David, it's running true to form. I insist there's something different about him this time, says Liz. I'm sure I know what's at the bottom of this, says Laura--that painting. What painting? asks roger. That horrible thing Sam Evans did of me, says Laura. You mean the one of the fire? asks Roger. Yes, David has it up in his room, says Laura. What's it doing here? asks Roger, annoyed. It was given to him, says Laura. And it's affecting him, says Liz. I called Evans every name in the book when I saw that painting, says Roger. And it's pointed up something, says Liz--something we must all consider carefully--the relationship between David and Laura isn't progressing--in fact, it's worsened. That is not altogether true, says Laura. It seems to be they're getting along very well, says Roger. That's because you haven't paid close enough attention, points out Liz. It's because of that painting, says Laura, it's frightened David, caused him to have nightmares--it's got to be taken away from him. I'll take care of it, Roger assures his wife. The curious thing is, David wants it, says Liz. Not curious at all, knowing David, says Roger. Another thing, says Laura--Sam has started another one, almost exactly like the one in David's room. Evans has gone absolutely mad, says Roger. I consider it a deliberate attack against me, says Laura--I want you to do something about it. I will, says Roger, rising--I won't have him doing these insulting paintings. Where are you going? Liz asks him. To Evans' house and out an end to it, says Roger. How are you going to stop him? asks Laura. That's my problem, says Roger. There's a knock at the door; Roger volunteers to get it. Maggie Evans, says Roger, opening the door--this is quite a surprise. Laura, started, looks at the visitor. Roger invites Maggie in. She apologizes for disturbing him at this house. quite all right, he assures her. Laura looks nervous. I was wondering if I might speak with Mrs. Collins, says Maggie. Of course, says Roger--Laura? Laura turns to face Maggie and greets her cordially. Maggie would like to speak to you, says Roger. If you have a minute, adds Maggie. Of course, come in, says Laura. Liz says hello to Maggie and invites her to sit down. I was just on my way to your house, to speak with you father, says Roger. You were? asks Maggie--I don't know that this would be a good time for a visit--it isn't what you think--he's had a little accident--he's burned himself (she looks at Laura as she says this). How awful, says Liz. I'm sorry to hear that, says Roger--how badly is he burned? Just his hands, says Maggie. Will he be all right? asks Liz. The doctor said he would be, replies Maggie--he'll regain full use of them. How did it happen? asks Roger. I think that a cigarette ignited some newspapers, says Maggie--he burned himself trying to put it out--that's why I'd like to speak to Mrs. Collins. What did she have to do with it? asks Roger. I visited Sam tonight, says Laura--to ask him to stop painting those pictures. I was hoping the two of you could work things out, says Maggie, but it's worse than ever. How do you mean? asks Roger. My father is convinced that Mrs. Collins started that fire.Liz looks suspiciously at Laura, Roger at Maggie, disbelieving.

That's absurd, pronounces Laura. I know it is, says Maggie, but it's stuck in his mind. How could he make such accusations? Asks Laura. There's no basis for it, agrees Maggie. I've never heard anything so insulting, I won't have him going around saying things like that, fumes Roger. I wish you could talk to him, and try to get it off his mind, says Maggie. I'll get it off his mind, Roger assures her, rising and striding for the door, have no fear. The doctor's been with him, says Maggie, and he's in a very nervous condition--the doctor says it's anxiety. I'll be as delicate as possible, says Roger, and leaves. I'm sorry to bring all my troubles to you, Maggie tells Liz, but I really didn't know which way to turn. That's quite all right, Liz assures her, I'll be glad to do anything I can. Thank you, says Maggie--I was hoping a meeting between you and my father would have a good effect on him, she adds to Laura, but just the opposite has happened--you seem to represent some sort of threat to him. Liz looks significantly at Laura, who tells Maggie, "I don't see how he can possibly think such a thing." He says you threatened to stop him from painting, says Maggie. Liz reacts with interest. All I did was, says Laura--your father started a second painting--Mrs. Stoddard will tell you the effect the first one had on David--naturally, I insisted he stop. What threat did you make? asks Liz. Only that I'd do something to make him stop, says Laura--what else could I say? What did you intend to do? asks Liz. Exactly what I did, says Laura--I told Roger, turned the whole matter over to him. I'm very bothered by the vagueness of my father's reasons for painting it, says Maggie--this whole thing seems very strange. Yes, agrees Liz, everything seems strange lately--so man unanswered things--but we'll find answers for them--sooner or later--and she looks at Laura.

Sam's hands are heavily bandaged. He attempts to pick up a brush, but can't. Roger comes to visit. Just the man I wanted to see, says Sam--pardon me for not opening the door--he holds up his hands--but my dexterity is at a minimum. Mental or manual? Asks Roger. (nasty!) Oh, that's the mood you're in, eh? asks Sam. What is this latest bit of inanity that I've been hearing? Demands Roger. I've got to talk to you, says Sam. This is your opportunity, says Roger, sitting on the sofa, and then I'll interrupt you and have a few things to say myself. That's where it happened, says Sam, pointing to the burned spot on the floor--if I hadn't awakened, I would have had more bandages than these, or maybe worse. I understand that your version of this happening does not include a cigarette and some newspapers. Sure, says Sam, the cigarettes and newspapers got together and made these second degree burns--what I want to know is, what made them get together? Well, says Roger, alcohol would be my guess. No, says Sam, something beyond comprehension--your wife burned my hands. I was waiting for you to say that, says Roger accusingly. It's true! says Sam. You mean she came in here and lit a match to you? asks Roger. No, says Sam, the same thing--she caused this to happen--she told me she was going to see to it that I never painted again--and this is what happened to my hands! Preposterous, says Roger. It may sound that way, says Sam, but she's got some kind of an influence--call it hypnotic--call it what you will--I just know she made me burn my hands! I'll call it the power of suggests, says Roger, on an alcohol filled mind of a fool--you deserved those burns, Evans, for painting that vile picture of Laura--I can't sympathize with you, I don't think you've gotten half of what you deserve! I just want some understanding, pleads Sam. Not until you stop accusing my wife of impossible things, insists Roger. I'm telling you, we're both in very big trouble! Says Sam. No, says Roger, just you--now, I understand that you've started painting another portrait of Laura--where is it? They both stand. Over there on the easel, says Sam. I'll finish that one for you right now, promises Roger, going to the easel. He lifts the cover. Well, it's already bee destroyed, says Roger, making a face. What do you mean? asks Sam, coming over. There's a huge hole in the painting. How can that be? asks Sam, stunned. What are you talking about? asks Roger.The fire, says Sam--it wasn't anywhere near the painting! Both men gaze at the destruction, shocked.

NOTES: We know Laura did this to Sam, but only Liz seems to be suspicious of Laura, and learning what happened to Sam only underscored her feelings that all is not quite right with Laura. It's obvious that Laura is quite vindictive, and now she's successfully destroyed the second painting, too. Sam has been successfully thwarted, but will Laura have to "burn" some sense into Liz, too? How will she go about assuaging Liz' mounting concern and fear? We know Liz will never turn David over to Laura feeling this way about the situation!

I actually thought Roger pretty gentle with Sam, considering how angry he was with him. How will this situation be resolved between these two men? Will Roger blame Sam's alcohol haze on this latest odd event of the painting burning feet away from the spot where the fire ignited?

Those scenes of Laura attempting to set Sam on fire were pretty cool, and scary, too. Sam could have completely gone up in flames, died, and I suspect that's what Laura was truly trying to accomplish. She probably considers dying by fire an honor for anyone, too! Now that his hands have been rendered unusable, will be turn to painting with his feet, or perhaps by taking his brush in his mouth?

How awful to be Sam--a drunk who falls asleep with a lit cigarette--who believes him? Not even his own daughter! Yet, always the good daughter, she is concerned enough to go to Collinwood to see Laura--but Laura is convincing, and only Liz continues to be suspicious.


Episode #147 - Mystery surrounds many of the residents of Collinwood. Many questions are left unanswered. No one can explain the existence of a terrifying and fascinating painting, but one man is bent on destroying it.

Roger enters David's room, calling to his son. David isn't there. Roger gazes at the portrait of Laura hanging on the wall, his face set, angry. He starts to take it down, but David comes in and demands to know what he's doing. Roger hastily drops his hands, but tells his son that he's going to take it down--I'm going to throw it into the rubbish where it belongs. You can't--it's not yours, protests David--Miss Winters gave it to me! Why Vicki would give you a thing like that, I can't imagine, says Roger sourly. She gave it to me because I like it, and want it, and you can't have it, insists David. Why would you want a painting of your mother burning alive? demands Roger--do you hate her that much? David looks down, ashamed. I don't hate my mother, he says. Then you should be as anxious as I am to destroy this gruesome thing! says Roger. I'm supposed to have it! says David. What does that mean? asks Roger. I don't know, says David, all I know is, I feel it's important for it to stay in this room--something tells me it is. Yes, one of your ghostly acquaintances, I suppose, says Roger sarcastically. I don't care whether you believe me or not, says David--you can't take my picture--he goes to the painting--it means something!--something important! Roger turns to David, who is staring plaintively at the painting.

What great significance does this hideous thing possibly have for you? asks Roger. I don't know, says David, all I know is, I have this feeling you shouldn't take it away--you can't! Oh, I can't, can't I? says Roger, striding purposely toward the painting again. David grabs his arm, asking what difference it makes--why do you care if I have it or not? Because it's a painting of your mother, and it's grotesque--and I don't want you to think of her that way, insists Roger. How do you want me to think of her? asks David. As someone very special, who loves you very much, says Roger. Why? asks David. Because she DOES love you, says roger, and that's the way you should think of her! You want her to take me away, don't you? asks David. (bingo!) Of course not, says Roger. Yes you do--you want to get rid of me because you hate me! accuses David--well I hate you, too, and I hope you die! He repeats it again and throws himself onto his bed, crying. Roger sits on David's bed. David, he says gently. Go away! says David. Roger reaches for David's shoulder--look at me, son, he says. David burrows his face into the bedspread. I don't want to look at you, he says. Roger takes his hand away. You have the wrong slant on a lot of things, he says, I don't hate you. David looks at him. You don't? he asks (such a pathetic face). Of course I don't! says Roger--you're my own son, how could I possibly hate you? You don't want to send me away? asks David. Of course I don't, says Roger--if you had to go away, I would be very sorry and miss you very much. You would? asks David, incredulous. Of course I would, says Roger--at the same time, I think it's only fair to give you a chance to get to know your mother--she loves you very much--you've often said you wanted her to come back here. I know, says David. Then why won't you give her a chance? asks Roger. There's something about her, just something that scares me, says David--I don't know, something. That monstrosity on the wall is frightening you, and that's why I'm going to take it down! says Roger, marching to the painting. No! says David, standing on the bed so he's close to his father's height. It's for your own good! says Roger. If you take my picture away, warns David, I won't speak to my mother! Please be reasonable! Begs Roger. I mean it, says David, I won't let her come near me, I won't, I won't! Vicki enters. What's going on in here? she asks in consternation. He's just throwing one of his tantrums, Roger tells her. He's trying to take my picture away, explains David--tell him he can't! It isn't up to Miss Winters, says Roger. If you take my picture away, I'll do what I said, says David--honestly, I won't talk to my mother, I mean it. All right, says Roger, if that's the way you're going to be, I'll have to give you your way--though I don't want to. David sighs with relief. Good, he says--I have to have that picture! Vicki informs him that his lunch is on the table. I'm not hungry, pouts David. You have to eat, says Vicki--go on. Do as Miss winters says, orders Roger. OK, says David, exiting his room. Roger sits on his son's bed. What do you make of that child, Vicki? he asks. I don't know what's the matter with him, says Vicki, but he's a very disturbed boy, there's no question of that. He's disturbed by that picture, says Roger--it certainly disturbs me--what sick, neurotic impulse do you suppose Sam Evans had to drive him to paint that thing? I don't know, I don't understand it, says Vicki. It's certainly ironic that he painted fire, considering what happened last night, says Roger--he burned himself--the drunken fool when to sleep with a burning cigarette in his hand--set fire to himself. Is he badly burned? Asks Vicki. Yes, his hands were, says Roger--it will be sometime before he'll be able to paint again. That's terrible! says Vicki, wheels churning in her head. I'd feel sorrier for him if he hadn't brought it on himself, says Roger--if he were sober enough to know what he was doing. What is it about fire? asks Vicki--David's dreamt about his mother in fire, Sam Evans painted her standing in fire, and then we heard about that fire in Phoenix, and now this--Mr. Evans bring burnt by fire--I know there's some connection, but what is it? What connection could there possibly be? asks Roger--just a series of coincidences, that's all. I suppose so, says Vicki, but there's something I can't help thinking--these things that have happened--they all started when Mrs. Collins came back here. Roger looks at her.

Are you saying that Laura has some connection with the things that have been happening? asks Roger. I'm not sure of what I meant, says Vicki, but fire has figured into all of them--and someone died in that fire in Phoenix. It's nothing more or less than coincidence, says Roger--what else could it be--is there any other logical explanation? No, says Vicki. Roger gazes at the painting. I should be angry with you, he tells her, for giving this painting to David--you must have known it would upset him, with that imagination he's got. I knew it would disturb him, agrees Vicki, I don't know why I gave it to him. In future, begins Roger, I hope... Laura comes in, asking where David is. Downstairs, says Vicki, having his lunch. Take Laura down to David, Roger tells Vicki. Does he want to see me? Laura asks anxiously, looking from one to the other--well, do you think he does, I don't know. Of course he does, assures Roger, unconvincingly. The last few days, he's been acting very strangely, says Laura, I don't want to pressure or frighten him. You won't, says Roger, he's just taking him time to get used to you. I see he still has that horrible painting, comments Laura. I'm going to get rid of it, says Roger, don't worry about that--Vicki, take Laura downstairs. All right, Vicki agrees. I was hoping he'd come see me today, says Laura as the ladies exit, I waited all day, I don't know why he didn't come... Roger stares up at the painting a moment, reaches for it, then stops short of taking it down. Puzzled, he turns away, looks at it again, and leaves the room. (I am convinced now that other powers in the house, friendly to David, are seeing to it that the painting stays right where it is--to protect him and warn the family of impending trouble.)

Foyer - Laura asks Vicki if something happened with David--we were getting along so well, and then all of a sudden, everything went wrong--he's been acting so strangely--he seems to be afraid of me--why? David exits the kitchen. Laura greets him, and he formally says hello. I thought you were going to come see me today, I missed you, says Laura. You did? asks David. Mmm-hmm, says Laura. Have you finished your lunch already? Asks Vicki. Yes, says David, eyes darting back and forth. Then why don't we go down to my cottage for a while? Asks Laura. What for? David asks. I thought we'd have a talk--I'd tell you some stories, says Laura. David walks past her. I can't, he says--I've got to finish my schoolwork. I'm sure Miss Winters will excuse you from that, won't you? asks Laura. If David wants to go with you, agrees Vicki. Do you? asks Laura. I can't! says David. Laura touches his hair and says his name.This causes him to rush away from her, upstairs. David! cries Laura, where are you going? To my room, he replies, and disappears. What's wrong with him? Laura asks Vicki--did I do something wrong just now? No, says Vicki. then why is he behaving this way? asks Laura--I don't understand it--if only he knew how much I love him, I know he couldn't be frightened of me then. Perhaps not, says Vicki. Could you do me a favor? Asks Laura--could you arrange for us to meet the way you did before? Well, I... says Vicki. You seem hesitant, says Laura. David is a very disturbed boy, says Vicki--if I seem hesitant, it's because I don't want to do anything that might disturb him more. I see, says Laura, unhappy. Will you excuse me? asks Vicki. Of course, says Laura, thinking hard. Vicki stops on the steps to gaze down at her, then disappears upstairs.

Burke, in his hotel room, stares wistfully at a photo of Laura. When someone knocks, he puts the photo down on the coffee table. Learning his visitor is Vicki, he invites her in, glad to see her. I hope I'm not disturbing you, she says--were you busy? Never too busy for you, he says, taking off her coat--what do you have in mind? I had to talk to somebody, she says, sitting on the sofa--I suppose it's very foolish...she spots the photo of Laura on the coffee table--isn't this Mrs. Collins? she asks. It was taken a long time ago, he says. She's very beautiful, says Vicki. Yes, agrees Burke. You knew her quite well, didn't you? she asks. (biblically?) I was in love with her, admits Burke. What happened? asks Vicki. She married Roger, says Burke. I'm sorry, says Vicki. Never mind that, says Burke, sitting in a chair, you didn't come here to discuss my past history. Actually, I did, says Vicki--I have to talk to somebody about Mrs. Collins! What about her? asks Burke. You're probably going to think I'm out of my mind, says Vicki--but I don't trust her!Burke leans forward--what makes you say that? he asks. She lied to me once, says Vicki, and I don't understand why. What did she lie about? asks Burke. A locket, says Vicki--she showed me an old locket once, an heirloom that Roger had given her--and several days later, one just like it turned up in her apartment in Phoenix, after the fire--she denied she ever had the first one, but I know she did, because I saw it with my own eyes. Why would she lie about it? asks Burke. I don't know, says Vicki, rising--why do I have these doubts about Mrs. Collins--I want to like her for David's sake--I want to think she's everything she seems to be. So do I, says Burke, standing--tell me something--what's with Roger, how does he behave around her?--is he afraid or on edge? Not at all, says Vicki--he wants his wife and David to become close again, but aside from that, he and Mrs. Collins get along very well. That's interesting, remarks Burke, and excuses himself to answer the phone. It's Laura, says the subject of his and Vicki's discussion. I know, says Burke. I have to see you, says Laura, are you alone? No, says Burke, glancing at Vicki. Can we meet somewhere? asks Laura--remember the place we used to meet, on the pier? I remember, he says. Go there in an hour, she says, I'll be waiting for you. All right, he agrees, and hangs up. I don't know why I have these feelings about Mrs. Collins, says Vicki--I guess it doesn't make too much sense. Burke sits on the sofa--I have a few unanswered questions myself, he says, looking at the photo--ones I intend to get the answers to.

Down at the foggy pier, we hear boat horns in the distance, the sound of bells, can almost smell the sea. Burke lights a cigarette and props up his foot on a barrel. Laura joins him. You're late, he says. You're early, she counters. I was always an impatient man, he reminds her. I remember, she says. What do you want? he asks. I need your help with David, she says. What can I do to help David? he asks. For some reason, he seems frightened of me, she says, I can't get him to believe in my love and respond to it, I need him desperately. How do I enter in? he asks. I know how much he admires you, says Laura, he talks about you constantly--in fact, you seem to mean more to him than his own father. Maybe there's a reason for that, says Burke. She looks away. There could be, she says. Would you care to spell that out? he asks. I would rather leave certain things unsaid right now, she tells him. All right, he says--what do you want me to do, talk to the boy? Yes, she says, I know you have enormous influence over him, he'll listen to you. Well, says Burke, what if I do everything you want me to do--what do I get out of it? You'll get what you want--and so do I, she says. You get David--what do I get? He asks. Satisfaction, she says. Why don't you come out and say what you mean? asks Burke--are you promising to testify for me at a re-trial? Yes of course I am, she says. If there is a re-trial, you could be implicated, he warns. I don't care, she says. Why not? asks Burke. Because I've lived with my guilt for too many years, says Laura, and Roger deserves to be punished. In other words, you hate Roger, says Burke. Don't I have enough reason? she asks. I heard you're not behaving as if you hate him, says Burke--I heard you've been very friendly with him. Who told you that? asks Laura. Someone who has had a chance to observe you and Roger at close range, says Burke--Vicki Winters. Why were you and Vicki discussing me? asks Laura. Never mind about that, says Burke, what's between you and Roger? We're civil to each other, says Laura--I have to be civil to him, because it's the only way I'll ever persuade him to let me have David. Can I trust you? asks Burke. That's a question you're going to have to answer for yourself, she says. I have memories, he tells her, bitter memories. So do I, she says, but they're not all bitter--surely the same must be true for you? Yes, he confesses. This place brings back memories, she says--I remember other nights when I met you here--I remember standing right here, looking out into the fog, seeing only the flickering lights of ships passing in the darkness and it was as if we existed together in a universe that no one else could inhabit. He curls his hands around her shoulders as she glances at him to see how her words are affecting him. You're very beautiful, he says. You're very flattering, she says. It's odd about you, he murmurs--I should hate you, I should be bitter, I should mistrust every word you say. She looks him full in the face. Do you? she asks in a sultry voice. No, he says softly. I'm glad you don't, she says. When we're together, says Burke, the oddest things happen to me--everything seems to melt away--all my anger, my needs, my drives--it's as if they didn't exist anymore, except in some far off place--and there's only one thing with reality--you. He presses his lips to her cheek, and she looks satisfied--GOT HIM!

NOTES: Quite the sexy film noir scene between Burke and Laura here, but it was apparent to me that she was seducing him by old memories and new promises to help ensure that she gets David, the only thing she really seems to want. I sense that she won't really help Burke win a re-trial, that she's only making that promise to secure her own evil ends.

What did Burke and Laura do in that spot on the docks, anyway, have sex over the barrels? I was just wondering.

Vicki is starting to suspect Laura in much the same way Liz does--notice how she's strung together all the fire references and incidents? Vicki may not be too bright sometimes, but she's all detective here. It's unfortunate that she's gone to Burke for help, because he is still smitten with Laura, still wants her, and that will hinder his wanting to help her. He's thinking with Little Burke now, which means all common sense goes bye bye.

Roger actually tells David he loves him, and sounds sincere--but is he? Is he, too, pretending, as Laura is with Burke, so that his son will willingly go to his mother and go away with her so he, Roger, can be rid of the child who tried to murder him? So many emotions, so much subterfuge--who is real and who is false? Vicki's concern is only for David, that's clear, but she has a job to lose, so perhaps her motives are murkier than she realizes, too.

As I said earlier, I believe that supernatural forces are at work here, keeping David safe, keeping that painting on his wall as a warning to all who love him. He wants to keep it there, too, because deep down in his heart, he knows his mother poses a threat and wants that painting up there so everyone else will know, too.

No DS Friday or Monday due to Labor Day marathons on Sci Fi. Enjoy the weekend!

Love, Robin

Episode #142 - A strange power has taken old of a man's hand and mind, and caused him to use his talents in a way which he finds it impossible to explain.

Cottage - Sam looks at the painting, tortured. What made me paint this? he agonizes--I only wish I knew. Pop, says Maggie, you've painted things before and haven't known where the idea came from, she says. Sure, he says, but painting like this, with this kind of intensity, had to come from some place specifically! I'm sure there must be an explanation, comforts Vicki. You've been thinking about Laura Collins ever since she came back, says Maggie--it's obvious to me where you got the idea from. OK, he says, I'm willing to buy that, but that doesn't explain the mood, the feeling, of this painting--the control it's got, the feeling AI got when I worked on it--all the fire in it!--why is it such a violent painting? It's because I explained the legend of the Phoenix bird, says Maggie--I remembered it affected you--it's a logical explanation for everything. I've disliked my canvases before, says Sam viciously, but I've never hated one before--I hate this one, I can't stand to look at it! Take it easy, urges Maggie I feel that thing owns me, says Sam, dictates to me--commands me--I don't ever want to put a brush to it again--I don't want to look at it anymore! He takes the canvas down from the easel. What are you doing? asks Maggie. Once and for all, he says, I'm going to get rid of it--I'm going to throw it into the sea! He heads for the door, but Vicki calls, "Wait!--I want that painting." Sam stares at her in astonishment.

What do you mean? asks Sam. I want it, says Vicki. How can you want this painting? asks Sam. I don't know, admits Vicki, there's something about it. That's why I'm throwing it away, says Sam--there's something about it. Rather than throw it away, says Vicki, let me buy it from you. I can't sell you a painting like this, protests Sam. You can't be serious, says Maggie, I am, says Vicki. I'd like to have it. And I'd like you to tell me exactly what's here that appeals to you, demands Sam. I don't know, she says, but something does. Look at it, he demands, tell me why you want it! It's just something I feel, says Vicki. It's an evil, horrible painting, says Sam, setting it down on a chair--I've never painted subject matter like that in my life, nor will I ever. I'd just as soon he did get rid of it, Maggie tells Vicki--he won't be the same until it's out of here. If you're going to get rid of it anyway... says Vicki. You want it that badly? he asks her. Yes, she insists. Fine, he says, handing it to you--it's yours, a gift from me to you--but not with sincere compliments. Thank you, she says. Don't thank me for that kind of thing, he says. There's an area here you've left unpainted, points out Vicki. I know, says Sam. What were you going to put there? I don't know, says Sam, cleaning brushes. You must have had something in mind to leave a space like that open, insists Maggie. I tell you, says Sam angrily, I don't know why, I've been staring at it and I don't know what goes in there. I was just curious, says Vicki. If you look at it as long as I have, warns Sam, you'll cease to be curious--I want to tell you something--when you've looked at this long enough, don't bring it back here. I won't, promises Vicki. I want you to destroy it, he says. I'd never do that, Vicki says. Throw it in the sea, says Sam, cut it up or burn it--yeah, that's what you should do--that's what has to be done to it--it should be burned!--if you destroy it, which I'm sure you will, I want you to come back and tell me after you've done it--AFTER you've done it, and don't worry, you won't hurt my feelings. Take it easy, Maggie urges her father, the painting won't be here anymore--you can get on with some other work. I feel better already, says Sam--I think I'll go down to the Blue Whale and get a little brain-washing. (interesting term for getting drunk.)--get some inspiration for a new canvas. If it makes you feel better, says Maggie in a small voice. It rejuvenates me, says Sam--goodbye, Vicki, and good luck with your acquisition. Thank you again, she says. Don't thank me, he advises, putting on his hat, I wish I could suggest a frame for it, but I can't think of any frame that would be right for it. He leaves. Maggie, really upset, watches him from the window. I'd like to apologize for the things my father said, Maggie tells Vicki. You don't have to, Vicki assures her. He's been acting that way ever since he saw Laura Collins, says Maggie. He hates this painting, says Vicki, I don't understand. What I don't understand, says Maggie, is why you wanted it in the first place. I can't explain the way I feel, says Vicki. Do you really like it? asks Maggie. It's not a question of liking it, says Vicki, I just think this is a very important painting. Come on, says Maggie, my father is a very good painter, but he doesn't turn out masterpieces. What I mean is that there is some kind of meaning behind it, explains Vicki, some kind of fascination about it--that intrigues me--it's almost as though--no, that's absurd--it's almost as though this painting was the real reason I came here today. You'd never seen it before, or heard of it, says Maggie. I know, says Vicki--there are so many things I don't understand. I have an idea you could explain it better than I could, says Maggie--I am going to wrap this for you--it's not the kind of thing you should be seen carrying in the streets. She takes the painting from Vicki and, holding it up, says I just thought of something--I wonder what Laura Collins will say when she sees it.

Laura enters the drawing room, where David sits at the table by the fireplace, still looking at the photo album. You're going to strain your eyes, warns his mother, sitting beside him--firelight is not for reading or for looking closely at things. I was just going through this, he explains. What were you trying to see? she asks. Nothing much, he tells her. You looked as if you were looking right through the snapshots, she observes. That's impossible, says David. Yes it is, she says, so don't look so hard. You know something, he says, you're pretty beautiful, for a mother. Thank you, she says, you say that as if mothers weren't supposed to be pretty. Seeing that I don't know too many mothers, since I don't have too many friends, says David, you seem much more like a movie star or something. You're a flatterer, she says. I mean it, says David, you are beautiful--that's probably why my father married you. I suppose so, she says, an odd look on her face. I hope I find a girl just as beautiful as you are to marry, he says. We'll see what the future holds in store, she says. Did you have a lot of boyfriends? He asks. Some, she says. How many? He asks. She smiles. So many you couldn't count them, she teases. Was Burke Devlin ever one of them? asks David. Well, says Laura, he was in our crowd. Didn't you ever date him specially? Asks David. Yes, she says. I like him, says David--he listens to me when I have something to talk about. Do you talk to him often? She asks. Whenever I can, says David, what did he used to be like? Very charming, fun to be with, she says. Why didn't you marry him? asks David. She stands and walks away, tells David things just didn't work out that way--lots of things happened. He joins her. I wonder what it would be like to have him for a father, says David. I don't know, she says. I'll bet it would be nice, he says. She sits down and puts her hands on his arms. How do you feel about your own father? she asks. He looks around, making sure they're alone. You won't tell anyone, will you? he asks. Of course not, she promises. I don't feel so good about him, says David--I don't like him so much--he doesn't like me. Of course he does, she says. No he doesn't, says David resentfully, crossing his arms over his chest--he doesn't care a thing about me, or what happens to me. What makes you say that? she asks. I can tell, he says, can't you tell whether someone loves you or not? Sometimes, she says. Well I know he doesn't love me, says David, that's why I wanted you so much. Now that I'm here, she says, do you believe I really love you? Yes, I do, he says. You're right, she says passionately, because I love you more than life--David, if you had to make a choice between your father and me, which one of us would you want to live with? He's saved from having to answer when Vicki comes through the front door. It's Miss Winters, says David--and she has a package! She's about to go upstairs, but David runs to her, and Laura joins him in the foyer. What have you got there? asks David. Something, says Vicki--for my room. Laura tells her son he mustn't do that--if Miss Winters wanted to show it to you, she would. It looks like a painting, notes David--is that what it is?--please show it to me? I don't know, says Vicki. Is it a painting? asks Laura. Yes, says Vicki. I'd love to see it, says Laura. All right, agrees Vicki. She leans it on the foyer table, removes the wrapping and turns it toward Laura and David. Here it is, she says. David looks at it and gulps. Laura presses her hand to her throat and shakes her head in horror.
My dream! Cries David--it's my dream! Where did you get this? asks Laura, disgusted. From Sam Evans, says Vicki. Laura walks away. It's horrible, she proclaims. David takes the canvas in his hands and gazes at it. How did Mr. Evans know about my dream? He wonders. He didn't, says Vicki--it's just something he painted. When did he do it? asks Laura. He said he started it the day you came back to Collinsport, says Vicki. How did he know about it? asks David, did he have the same dream? He doesn't know why he painted it, says Vicki. I don't understand, says David, how a man could make a painting out of what I dreamed. You had a dream like that? asks Laura. Yes, it was the night you came here, says David. Holding onto herself as if cold, Laura wonders what made him put her face into that picture. He doesn't know, says Vicki--he's practically incoherent when he talks about it. That's understandable, says Laura. Look at all the colors, says David admiringly. I wish you wouldn't look at it! says Laura. It's OK, it doesn't scare me, says David. Why do you have this? asks Laura, agitated. He gave it to me, says Vicki. Why? asks Laura. Because he was going to throw it away, says Vicki. Why didn't you let him? demands Laura. I don't know, says Vicki, it seemed a waste. A shocking painting! says Laura--what do you intend to do with it? I don't know, says Vicki. Could I have it? asks David. David! chastises Laura. I don't have a real painting in my room, he says. This is not the kind of painting you want to have in your room! she says. How about it? David asks Vicki--can I have it? I don't think your mother wants you to have it, says Vicki. Mother, please? begs David. It isn't good, she says. I like it! he says. I'll get you a better one, she says. Why can't I have this one? he says, I want this one!--it's a picture of you! But it's not a good one, she insists. It's a special picture, says David, of my dream, and of you!--it means something to me--I don't have a painting of you! I'll get you another one! she says. But I want this one, he says. I want you to have what you want, she says, but this is not a good thing to have. Why not? he asks. Because of what it represents, says Laura. You're mother is right, says Vicki--it's not worth hanging anyway--it's not even finished. What's supposed to go there? asks David. Mr. Evans didn't know, says Vicki. (Looks like David's profile to me.) What do you suppose goes in that spot? Asks David. Laura says she doesn't know. Please can't I have it?--I want it more than anything else! he pleads--Miss Winters?--please? It's not up to me, it's up to your mother, says Vicki. Mother, wheedles David. All right, agrees Laura, reluctantly. Oh, Mother!--Miss Winters!--thanks a million! He says, thrilled--I'll go hang it up in my room. It doesn't have a frame, says Vicki. It doesn't need a frame, says David, I can put a string across the back, then I'll hang it up--would you come up and help me? All right, says Vicki. Hurry! says David, and runs upstairs with his treasure. I'm very upset about this painting, Laura tells Vicki. I can see that, says Vicki. You never should have brought it into the house, insists Laura. I suppose you're right, I should have known it would have a bad effect on David, says Vicki--I don't know why I brought it here--I seem to have been compelled, as though I had no choice in the matter--as though it were prearranged. That's a very strange thing, says Laura--I want you to promise me something--if the opportunity presents itself, I want you to get the painting away from David! Vicki stares at her.

Vicki comes up to David's room, where he is on his bed, putting a string on the back of the painting. You're just in time, he says, I finished. Vicki sits on his bed with him and suggests that before he hang it, he think about it. No, sir, he says, my mother said OK, and I'm going to hang it up. She said OK because she knew how much you wanted it, says Vicki, but it's not making her happy. I don't see why she doesn't like it, complains David, it's a beautiful painting, and looks just like her. She doesn't want you to think of her looking like this! protests Vicki. Why not? he asks, it's a good painting. It's time you started thinking of how to make your mother happy, says Vicki. Oh, he says, how about over here (above his dresser)--he stand on a hassock. You're not listening to me! accuses Vicki. This will look good, he says, hanging it on a nail already in the wall. I suppose it's as good as any, says Vicki, upset--I never should have brought that picture here. There, says David, stepping away to admire it--that's a good spot--I can see it from all around the room. Vicki turns and looks. David straightens it, and asks how it looks. Strange, says Vicki. that's the reason I like it so much, he says, it's different. Somehow, says Vicki, I think it looks like it belongs in this room. You can see it from over here very well, says David--I can sit and watch it, all day long. Laura comes in. I've hung it up, he says, taking her by the hand--doesn't it look cool? Oh, David, she says, I've given it some thought and decided what must be done--mothers aren't always the wonderful creatures children would like them to be--and I'm going to do something you're not going to like. She reaches for the painting. Don't take my painting! cries David, grabbing her arm. David! she says. Don't take it, he begs. But it's very bad for you! she says. "If you take it," he warns, "then I won't talk to you--ever!" You don't understand! she says. I mean it, he says. Very well, if that's the way you feel, she says--there are some things you're just going to have to learn for yourself. She leaves his room. I'm sorry, Mother! he calls after her--I'm sorry, but I've just got...! Laura is gone. She's mad at me, David tells Vicki. I'd be mad at you, too, says Vicki--she only wants the right things for you. I don't see why she doesn't like the paining, laments David. Because she knows it's a strange painting, says Vicki--and that you shouldn't have it.David looks at the painting. I know it's supposed to be here, he insists, I just know it! He stares at the painting.

Evans cottage - Maggie checks her watch and turns out lights. She looks out the window for her father. Sam, drunk, comes in. "Let the lower lights be gleaming!" he sings. "Send the beam across the bay--or is it let the lower lights be beaming, send the gleam across the bay." Maggie chuckles, noting that whichever it is, he seems to be doing both. He laughs and hugs her, saying he feels good--can't blame a man for that, can you? There's such a thing as feeling too good, she says, but he says he can't tell her how great it feels, getting rid of that canvas. You get some rest, she orders--you're going to feel terrible in the morning. My mind's too busy to rest, says Sam, slipping off his coat--I've bee thinking all night about a seascape--there's an old, battered hulk on the beach, half in the water, half out. Sounds fine! Says Maggie. I've been thinking about the composition, says Sam, settling a canvas on the easel--get a few lines on here before the night's out. I wish you wouldn't, she says. You go to bed, he encourages, I'll be all right. OK, she says, and goes into her room. Sam whistles as he draws, getting into his work. Suddenly, he stops, his face sickened. He backs away from the canvas.Sitting on the easel is the beginnings of a repeat of Laura's painting.

David tosses restlessly in his bed. The painting on his wall glows, and his mother's face seems to comes out of the painting and moves toward him. He sits up and sees the floating head growing larger and larger.NO! he wails, no, stop it, stop it, stay away--stay away! But Laura's face fills his room, terrifying him.

NOTES: It's clear that this mother dearest intends harm to her son, but what, exactly, she intends is not yet clear. Fire is a part of it, and we think perhaps, given the clues, that she is a human version of a Phoenix. Now Sam, thinking he's going to be painting something else, is repeating the same portrait of Laura as before. He is understandably horrified.

It was wrong of Laura to take back the painting after she promised it to David. Considering that her face came out of it at the end of this ep, I wonder if she isn't using it to communicate with him, but why would she be dead set against him having it if she plans to utilize it that way? Did she fear that it would give away her plans to both Vicki and David, and thus thwart them?

Sam is going to have a serious problem if he becomes a one-painting artist, but I can't help but feel that otherworldly forces on David's side are trying to help him and prevent a tragedy.

David questions about having Burke for his father make you wonder if he might be, although, having seen the whole series, I'm pretty sure he's Roger's. She almost seems like a real mother, sometimes, but we know now for sure that she isn't.


Episode #143 - It is night at Collinwood, after a day of strange and unexplained events--but the strangest event of all has just happened to a small boy, and it defies explanation.

Terrified, David calls for his aunt--somebody!--to come to him. Liz races into his room, turns on his light, and asks what's wrong. He can barely speak at first, but when she takes him into her arms, he admits he's scared. Why? she asks. It's that painting, he says, pointing to Laura's on the wall. Where did that come from? she asks. Vicki comes running in and sits on his bed, too. I heard you calling, she says, are you all right? I got scared, he says. Something in that picture frightened him, says Liz. What frightened you? asks Vicki. I saw a face in it! he says--it came right out of the painting--it was my mother's face! The women look at each other, then at the painting.

Liz holds a sobbing David in her arms, assuring him there's no need to cry.I can't help it, he says, voice trembling. You have nothing to be frightened of, she says, you just had another bad dream, that's all. It wasn't a dream, he insists, it was real, I was wide awake when it happened! Are you sure? asks Vicki. Yes, he says, I saw my mother's face coming right out of that painting. Don't you see? asks Liz, you had a bad dream and what you saw was part of that dream. It wasn't a dream, it was too real! Says David. Sometimes dreams seem very real, explains Liz, especially if they're nightmares, that's all it was. I don't know, he says, I was sure I was wide awake, and it did seem real. It's that painting that's bothering you, says Liz, and it's no wonder--where did it come from? Sam Evans painted it, says Vicki. This surprises Liz. Sam painted that? she asks. Yes, says Vicki. It looks like Mrs. Collins, says Liz. I know, says Vicki. Why would Sam paint Mrs. Collins, especially like that? asks Liz. I don't know, says Vicki, all I know is that he wanted to get rid of it, and he gave it to me--David saw it and wanted to hang it in here. I'm not sure it ought to be here, says Liz, you don't want it anymore, do you, David? I guess not, he says. Then I'll take it away, she says, and goes to do so. Suddenly, David climbs out of bed and blocks her way. Don't take my picture away! he pleads. Why? she asks. I have a funny feeling about it, he says, that I should keep it. That doesn't make any sense, says Liz. Just the same, I want it, he says. But it's troubling you, darling, she points out. No it isn't, he says, I want it--please, Aunt Elizabeth! All right, we'll talk about it in the morning, she says, leading him back to bed--do you feel better now? Yes, he says. Vicki asks if she can get anything, tucking him into bed. No, I'm OK, he assures her, good night, he tells Vicki and Liz, and hugs the latter. Call me if you need me, says Liz. I will, he says, but after they've gone, he gets out of bed and goes over to stare at the painting of his mother, and the unfinished figure in the foreground.

These recurring nightmares David is having are starting to worry me, Liz tells Vicki down in the drawing room. Liz sits at the desk. I can't imagine what causes them, says Liz. I can't, either, agrees Vicki. Having that frightening picture in his room doesn't help--why did you give it to him, you must have known it would upset him, says Liz. I'm not sure why I gave it to him, says Vicki, some kind of an impulse--he was so insistent about having it--he seemed to want it so much. Has Mrs. Collins seen it? asks Liz. Yes, says Vicki. What did she say? asks Liz. She was mystified by it, says Vicki, when I showed it to her, she seemed very frightened--she was very insistent that it shouldn't hang in David's room. I must say I agree with her, says Liz. I understand that Mrs. Collins came here to take David away with her, says Vicki--if David goes, you won't need me here anymore. I'm not sure he'll be leaving, says Liz--I told Laura she could have David if he wanted to go with her--and if she could prove she could do more for him than I can--I'm not so sure she's good for David. But she needs him so badly, protests Vicki.But does he need her? asks Liz--he keeps having these nightmares--I'm not at all sure it's a good idea for him to go with her because her presence here seems to deeply disturb him--I don't like it at all.

David has his crystal ball on his window ledge. He looks into it, then at Laura's painting, puzzled. He goes over to the painting, drags over a chair, stands on it and gazes at his mother's face with tremendous concentration.

Collinsport - We see cars driving up and down the road. At the Evans cottage, Sam cleans brushes. He works on a painting, whistling, stop, stares at it, and goes to answer the knock at his door. It's Vicki, and David is with her. I didn't expect to see you again so soon, says Sam. I brought you a visitor, says Vicki. Hello, Davy, says Sam. I hope we're not disturbing you, says Vicki. Not at all, says Sam, come on in, take your coats off. Sam tells Vicki this is Maggie's long day at the coffee shop; she'll be sorry she missed her. I promised David we wouldn't stay too long, says Vicki, he just wanted to thank you for the painting you gave me yesterday--David saw it and admired it, so I let him hang it in his room. I see, says Sam, I'm glad you like it, Davy. He sits beside David on the sofa. I like it a lot, says David, it looks just like my mother. That's the highest of praise, says Sam. My Aunt Elizabeth wants to take it away, says David, but I'm not going to let her--I want to keep it with me always. I'm flattered that you want it that much, says Sam. I do--it's so scary! Says David. I'm afraid there are other people who will agree with you on that. I don't mean that I don't like it, says David, because I love scary things! Then it has fallen into the right hands, says Sam, patting David's hand. Why did you paint my mother? asks the boy. Because she's a very beautiful lady, says Sam. I know, says David, but why did you paint her that way, standing in all of the fire? I'll tell you something, says Sam--never ask an artist why he paints a certain subject. Oh...why not? asks David. Because he never knows why, says Sam--a painting is something that just happens. But you must have had a reason for painting her that way! says David. No particular reason, says Sam. But you must have, what is it? insists David. You're asking too many questions, Vicki tells him. But I've got to know why he painted my dream, says David. Your dream? Asks Sam. He's been having nightmares and your picture reminds him of them, says Vicki. It's a strange painting, says Sam, like something out of a nightmare. My mother's the same in your picture as she is in my dream, says David--wearing the same expression on her face. Tell me about your dream, says Sam. I keep dreaming that my mother is standing somewhere, says David, with fire all around her. What happens then? asks Sam. She calls out, but I can't hear what she's saying, says David--all I know is, it keeps getting hotter and hotter, and the fire starts going every place, and I can hardly see out of the smoke--it keeps getting hotter and hotter--then I always wake up. I see, says Sam, rising. I always feel like something's going to happen, says David, but I don't know what it is. That's very curious, says Sam. Why did you paint my dream? Asks David. Maybe we both travel in the same psychic wavelength, suggests Sam--they say thoughts can travel from person to person, maybe the same thing's happening to us. You mean you can read what's going on in my mind? asks David, excited. Something like that, says Sam, in fact I think I know what's going on in your mind right now. You do? asks David. I get a vibration, says Sam, rubbing his beard, saying that you like cider and cookies--am I right? Well, yes, says David. It just so happens, by a stroke of food luck, that there are cookies and cider out there in the refrigerator, so why don't you go help yourself to them. You're kidding me! Says David. I wouldn't kid about that, Sam assures him, it's just that you look hungry. But you haven't answered my question, says David, why did you paint my dream? I can't answer that, says Sam, just say probably it's just coincidence. You really think that? asks David. I really do, says Sam, and those cookies and cider are waiting for you out in the kitchen so why don't you just run and get them. OK, smiles David. And don't worry too much about your dream and my painting, says Sam, I don't think there's any real connection. I was just thinking, there's something spooky, remarks David, and goes to the kitchen. Sam walks past Vicki. I agree with him, he tells her--I didn't want to say so in front of the boy, but the description of his nightmare corresponds exactly with the vision I've been having--a woman standing in fire, the heat, the smoke, everything is the same. Then you do think there's a connection, says Vicki. I don't know, he says, I just know I started another painting this morning and it frightens me. A painting of what? she asks. Sam goes over to the easel. It started to be a seascape, he explains, but it turned into this. Vicki comes over to look. it's another woman in fire! exclaims Vicki. I don't know why I painted her, says Sam, it's the last thing I'd ever want to paint in the world--but I don't seem able to help myself!We see it looks like a replica of the first, with a white silhouette being held in the arms of a winged woman surrounded by flames.

I can't get the vision of this woman out of my head, says Sam--this really doesn't make any sense at all. It really doesn't, agrees Vicki--is it going to be Laura Collins again? I don't know, says Sam--it wasn't supposed to be her when I started the one before--but the face came in later. Vicki points to the white silhouette and asks what he's going to put there. I don't know, he says, agitated, I know something is supposed to be here, I just don't know what. I wonder what it's supposed to be? asks Vicki--it looks like she's holding something. I don't know, he says, I don't know--I don't want to think about it or look at it. He takes a stiff drink. Sorry, he says, but I needed this. It's all right, Vicki assures him. It's just that I need to forget, to drive this vision out of my mind, he says, wiping his face with his hand--if I could obliterate it, I would drink myself to death. He drinks. Something strange happened to me yesterday, says Vicki--it's very hard to explain, but something came over me and made me take that painting back to Collinwood. You don'' want the painting? he asks. No, she says, frankly, it scares me. I can't blame you for that, says Sam. But something made me take it, says Vicki, and later, something made me show it to David, even though I knew it would upset him--something beyond my power--something forced me! that's the same feeling I've had, says Sam. There must be some explanation, insists Vicki. I just want to forget it, and I think it would be wise for you to do the same, advises Sam. What about that painting--can you forget that? asks Vicki. Yes! says Sam, I've got to forget it or I'll lose my mind--I don't want to go back to it--ever! What are you going to do with it? asks Vicki. Slash it, burn it, destroy it, says Sam desperately, I just know I can't work on it, I can't! David calls Vicki and asks her if she wants some cookies. No, I think you've had enough for both of us, she says--go get your coat, it's time to go home. So soon? asks David, disappointed. Yes, says Vicki, your Aunt Elizabeth's going to wonder what happened to us. They put their coats on. David thanks Sam again for the painting. You're very welcome, says Sam. Goodbye, says Vicki. Goodbye, says Sam--remember what I told you--things sometimes are best forgotten. I'll try, says Vicki, and they leave. Sam closes the door after them, pours more booze, and takes a big swallow. He gazes at the painting, drinks more, and sets down the glass.He goes over to the painting as if drawn by a magnet and begins to work on it again, looking like he's in a trance.

Vicki and David return to Collinwood. Liz calls them. Mrs. Johnson has been looking for David, says Liz--your lunch is ready, she tells her nephew. I'm not hungry, says David. You never are, at mealtime, teases Liz. Do I have to eat lunch today? He ask . Of course, says Liz, and David reluctantly goes to the kitchen. I'm afraid I let him spoil his appetite, says Vicki. He doesn't need any prompting for that, says Liz. We went to Sam Evans' house, explains Vicki, and I let him have some cookies. Why did you go to Sam Evans' house? asks Liz. He wanted to thank him for the painting, says Vicki. I think it was a mistake to take him here, says Liz, but before she can explain why, there's a knock at the door, and Liz goes to answer. A man holds up an ID badge and says he's Lt. Riley, detective for the State Police--I understand a Mrs. Laura Collins is living here. Yes, says Liz. May I see her? the man asks. I suppose so, says Liz, won't you come in. The man thanks her and does so. May I ask what it's about? asks Liz. I'd like to asks her a few questions about a recent death by fire in Phoenix, the man says, holding his hat in his hands. I heard about that, says Liz, have they identified the dead woman? Not yet, says the man, that's why I have to ask Mrs. Collins a few questions. I see, says Liz--Mrs. Collins lives in our cottage, I'll take you there, I'm Mrs., Stoddard, Mrs. Collins' sister in law Then you might be able to identify some of her personal effects, he suggests--some of her belongings were salvaged from the ruins of her apartment--the Phoenix police shipped them on to us--maybe you'd like to take a look at them, see if you can identify anything connected with Mrs. Collins? I'd be glad to, says Liz, if you think I can help. I think you just might, he says. They go into the drawing room, where Vicki waits. Liz introduces them. This will only take a moment, the cop says--there isn't very much, just some small jewelry, that's all the firemen were able to salvage--everything else was destroyed in the fire. He empties the jewelry out of an envelope onto the desk. I might not be able to help you, warns Liz. Take a look anyway, he suggests. She sits at the desk and discards three piece, but says she can identify the fourth--it's a family heirloom, she says, I'd recognize it anywhere, my brother gave it to Mrs. Collins when they were married. Vicki asks to see it, and Liz hands it over. Vicki examines it. That's very strange, she says, Mrs. Collins was wearing one exactly like this the other day, there must be two. That's impossible, says Liz, that locket's been in our family for generations, to my knowledge, there's never been one like it. But there must be, insists Vicki--I remember this distinctly, because she told me a story about it--she told me she had a lock of David's baby hair in it--she always kept it with her. Yes, says Liz, she clipped a lock of David's hair after he was born and put it in that locket--but I'm sure it can't be the one you saw. But it must be, says Vicki--she told me about the hair in it. Let me see if I can open this one up, suggests the cop--he has trouble, but manages to get it open--and inside is a lock of hair and photos of David as a little boy. Vicki and Liz exchange disturbed looks.

NOTES: So what's going on here? If there aren't two lockets, how could Laura have showed one to Vicki at the cottage--yet here's the same locket, taken out of the fire? Whatever supernatural creature she is, can Laura clone jewelry?

Sam and David are sharing the same creepy dream/vision of Laura, and now that he's gotten rid of the first painting, Sam is being compelled to paint it all over again? Who belongs in the empty white spot? Must be David; it looks just right for him. That would also fit in with David's nightmare of being stuck with his mother in fire.

Notice how much David has changed. He's becoming lovable, eccentric in his love of the supernatural, yes, but a character we want to sympathize with. And as always, Henesy's doing a superb job.

David is perturbed about the painting, too, and I wonder what he saw in his crystal ball when he was looking at it. Like Sam, he is drawn to the painting, frightening as it is, but probably doesn't know why.

Liz is already having doubts about letting David go with his mother, and considering how desperate Laura is to have him with her, that's going to come to a head and explode very soon--and in ways not healthy for Liz.

Clues are building up--who or WHAT is Laura Collins?

Love, Robin

Episode #138 - The quiet of the night at Collinwood has been shattered by some news--news so startling and strange, that it is beyond belief.

I'm sorry to shock you, Patterson tells Roger in Collinwood's foyer. You'll have to explain what you were saying, says Roger. I'm afraid I can't explain it, says Patterson--I can only tell you what the Phoenix police report told me, that a body identified as that of Laura Collins was found a few days ago, burned to death in Phoenix. That's ridiculous, says Roger. Ordinarily, I wouldn't break news like this to you the way I did, says Patterson, but I heard Mrs. Collins was back in town. That's true, says Roger, so the whole thing is preposterous. That's what it seemed to me, says Patterson--I went to the Inn, but they said she had checked out--that she was living here--is that true? Yes, says Roger, that's right. The register at the Inn said she checked in there 3 days ago, which was the same day as the fire in Phoenix, says Patterson. It's obvious to the least intelligent person that this report is erroneous, insists Roger, walking into the drawing room with Patterson behind him. That's what I thought, says the sheriff, so I phoned Phoenix--I told them Laura Collins is here in town and asked them to verify their identification--they said that the identification was positive--they said the body they'd found was definitely Laura Collins.

How can they be so positive it's the body of my wife? asks Roger. The building she was living in burned, explains Patterson, not entirely to the ground, but the body was found in what was left of her apartment. Who identified the body? asks Roger. No one specifically, says Patterson--the body was burned beyond recognition. Then how did they identify her? asks Roger. The Medical Examiner established her age and other characteristics, says Patterson. He was wrong, says Roger. The identification was also a matter of logic, says Patterson as they both sit down in chairs. That's a piece of logic I'd like to hear, says Roger. Everyone else was survived and accounted for, says Patterson, except Laura Collins--there was only one fatality and the body was found in her apartment. Would I seem naive if I suggested that somebody has made a mistake? asks Roger. No, you wouldn't, says Patterson, there certainly has been a mistake--but there is also an unanswered question. Yes, agrees Roger, that's exactly right--a charred body in Phoenix. Yes, and there has got to be an answer to that question, says Patterson. We'll let the police in Phoenix worry about that, says Roger. Except they asked me to ask Laura a few questions, says Patterson, to see if we can clear up just who it is they have found--it's possible she was letting someone else use her apartment--I would like to speak to her for a few minute, if you don't mind. All right, says Roger, she's staying in Matthew's cottage, but there's something I want you to understand--she's been under a terrible strain. I'm aware of that, Patterson assures him. I would suggest you not pressure her with your third degree type of questioning, says Roger. I had no intention of doing that, Patterson says, there is no accusation being made. All right, come along, says Roger. They leave the house together. We see the fire dancing in the fireplace.

Which segues into a fire in the cottage fireplace, into which Laura is gazing with rapt concentration. Roger and Patterson knock at her door. She asks them to wait a minute, then opens the door and invites them in. Sorry to brother you like this, says Roger, but the sheriff wanted to get a good look at you with his two eyes. It's nice to see you again after all this time, Patterson tells Laura--I have a few questions I'd like to ask you if you have a few moments. Of course, she says, and invites him to sit down. He sits on the arm of a chair, she in front of the fireplace. He explains to her that the Phoenix police have been in touch with him, they asked me to ask you a few routine questions--have you been residing at 443 Mason Street? Yes, replies Laura. He writes in his book. Do you still maintain a residence at that address? He asks. Yes, the keys are in my purse, she replies. And when were you last at the apartment? asks Patterson. About a week ago, eight or nine days, I think, she says. And you arrived here 3 days ago, says Patterson---there's a gap there of at least five days--how did you travel? By train to St. Louis, she says, and I spent half a day between trains, then I went on to Boston, and from there by bus to Collinsport--of course I stayed overnight in Boston. That accounts for the time, then, says Patterson. Why don't you just tell her what happened, says Roger. Please, Mr. Collins, cautions the sheriff--did you leave any of your personal effects in the apartment? Yes, clothing and other things, she says. Did anyone else have a key to the apartment? Not that I know of, she says, has there been a robbery? No, a fire, he says. Fire! she repeats, rising--in my apartment? The whole building was burned 3 days ago, he says. Was anyone hurt? she asks. Yes, he says, several people were burned or had smoke inhalation, but there was only one fatality. Oh, who was it? she asks. The body was identified as the body of Laura Collins, he informs her.

I wish you wouldn't be quite so melodramatic, comments Roger. What do you think? Laura asks the sheriff. I don't know what to think, he says, you are here, that's obvious, a fact--the Phoenix police did want me to find out if you had any idea who might have been staying in your apartment. No, none whatsoever, she says. Sure there weren't any friends? he asks. I knew very few people, she says.It beats me, he says, I guess I'll have to let Phoenix figure it out--the body's in their territory anyway, not mine, luckily. What made them think it was my body? asks Laura. The body was found in your apartment, he says. What condition was it in? she asks. Unrecognizable, he says. I see, she says. This is a very distasteful conversation, says Roger. That's all right, says Laura--I want to be as helpful as I can. I'm sure this is unpleasant for you, says Patterson--I'll phone you as soon as I get to the station. I'm sorry I can't give you more information, she says. You've been very helpful, he says--I'm sure they'll make a positive identification very soon. Will they? she asks. Yes, they've gotten very good at that, he says--this isn't much of a welcome, but it was nice to see you again. She thanks him. Roger tells Patterson he'll be right along--would he mind waiting for him? Certainly, says Patterson, and bids Laura goodbye. Left alone with Laura, Roger insists it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard of--what does she make of it? She warms her hands by the fire. I don't know what to say, she replies. What has gone through my mind hearing this, he says--I've wondered what effect this might have on your plans--you have no place to go back to, to take David to. I hadn't planned on taking David to that apartment, she says, I made a commitment to another place. Oh, well, that's fine then, says Roger--I have to go, but I want to come back and talk to you--about Devlin. All right, she says, resigned. They bid each other good night.

Burke carries Laura's suitcase to the front door of Collinwood. Thank you for the use of your muscle, Carolyn tells him. (No comment!) It's very light, he says, hardly anything in it--I assume you're not going to ask me in? Are you kidding? she asks--the place is booby-trapped for you--you set so much as one foot inside there, sirens start wailing, bells ring, lights flash. He pulls her close to him. You have quite a cute little imagination, he says. It's not my imagination, she says. And a cute little nose, he adds. That's your imagination, she says. I've always imagined kissing you, he says. She smiles. Do you? she asks. They kiss, a nice one. There, that's got to be imagination, he says--nothing that good could be real. I don't know whether I feel younger when I'm with you or more mature, she says. Burke laughs. Well, he says, I like to think that I leave my ladies a lot younger than that I would leave them a little older--and he kisses her again, holding her face in his hands. She laughs and asks him to come inside for a few minutes, it's so cold out here. What happened to the booby traps? he asks. Ignore them, she says, and opens the door. He carries in the suitcase. So far, no burglar alarm, he teases. Don't worry, they'll get you yet, she says. I'll only stay a minute, says Burke, helping her off with her coat. You can stay twice that long, she assures him--come inside and warm yourself next to the fire. He takes her hand. It's warmer next to you, he tells her. She smiles at him, completely smitten. He goes into the drawing room, remarking that he feels like he's in forbidden territory. You are, she says, closing the doors. He holds his hands out to the fire. Isn't that better than standing outside? she asks. It would be, he says, if I were closer to you. (What an operator!) She sits beside him on the fireplace seat. All the comforts of the front porch, she says, and they kiss, lengthily. She clings to him. You know, I hate to see you go out into the cold night again, he says. Why would I go out? she asks. To take the suitcase down to your Aunt Laura, he says. You almost made me forget, she says. I'd be happy to save you the trip, says Burke--I'll take it down to the cottage on my way out. Carolyn looks at him, suspicious of this good deed.

Roger and Patterson return to Collinwood. I assume you've gotten enough information, says Roger. Yes, says Patterson, enough to send the Phoenix police off in another direction--we've still got to settle the matter of that identification. Yes, of course, agrees Roger. If Mrs. Collins should think of anything that you think might be helpful, I'd appreciate your calling me, says Patterson. Roger assures him he will. They shake hands and say goodnight. Roger enters the house and sees both Laura's suitcase and Burke's coat.

In the drawing room, Carolyn asks Burke, who is caressing her hand, if he would really carry Aunt Laura's suitcase all the way down to the cottage for her. I wouldn't want to see you get calluses on your delicate little hands, he says, kissing her hand. She grins with delight and giggles--you're so thoughtful, she says--or is it just that you'd like the opportunity to visit my Aunt? He laughs. Oh, you're a suspicious little devil, he says. No, just a jealous one, she admits. I assure you my going to see your aunt Laura has nothing to do with affection--it's business, business, business. You can't fool me, she says. Yes I can, he says--I'll take it there. I don't know why I let you get away with so much, she says. I'm irresistible, he says, kissing her again. The door opens.Roger greets Carolyn, but not Burke. Burke rises. Hello, Roger, he says. This man is not welcome in this house! Roger sternly tells his niece--surely you realize what he represents. I'm never certain, says Carolyn, grinning, that's what's so fascinating about him. Then pay close attention, says Roger--he represents the destroyer of this family and you along with it--he's about as fascinating as the Grim Reaper. You should know about the Grim Reaper, accuses Burke--you've played him often enough, but I'll tell you what I represent--honesty and truth--(Superman, move over!)--and I'm willing to speak the truth, anywhere, anyplace--can you say as much for yourself? Absolutely! says, Roger, without any hesitation--Carolyn, would you kindly show Mr. Devlin out. Carolyn tries to placate her uncle, but Burke says never mind--I was just leaving. In the foyer, Carolyn closes the doors and goes to Burke, who remarks that he hopes he spoiled Roger's evening. You haven't spoiled mine, says Carolyn. One of these days, we're going to have an evening to remember, he promises her, kissing her (take her all the way?)--I'll call you tomorrow. He picks up the suitcase. You're very determined to deliver that, aren't you? asks Carolyn. Very determined, he agrees, and leaves the house.

Laura sits by the fire, perspiring. We see her glazed-over eyes in close-up. She doesn't seem to hear the knock at the door. Mrs. Collins! calls Burke, breaking her trance. Bellboy! he announces. Just a minute, she says. She opens the door and greets him. Where should I put your suitcase, Madame? he asks. Right where you're standing is just fine, she says. You're letting a lot of cold air in, he reminds her--and she closes the door. I certainly appreciate your bringing my bag very much--how in the world...? Carolyn had it, says Burke, I saved her the trip. That's just like you, she says, doing two favors at once. Three, he corrects, seeing you is doing a favor for myself. You certainly do capitalize on the moment, don't you? she asks, sitting by the fire. I belong to the make-the-most-of-the-opportunity philosophy, says Burke--that's the secret of my success--I've become a very wealthy man, did you know that? That sort of news gets around, says Laura. I could buy and sell Collinwood and everything it represents, states Burke. It takes a lot of money, she says. I have it, he says. That's something you've always wanted, she says. I've fulfilled most of my ambitions, he says. Why are you giving me your qualification? she asks. To let you know I'm not someone to be taken lightly, he says, or to be made a fool of.I doubt very much that could happen to you, she says. I doubt it, too, he says, and that's why I'm here--to make certain it won't happen.

Carolyn exits the kitchen. Roger joins her in the foyer. Company gone? he asks. Of course, she says, picking up her coat, you pooped the party. What a pity--it had the makings of a remarkable one, he says--did you take the suitcase down to your Aunt Laura? It's on its way, she assures him--Burke volunteered to take it down to the cottage. Devlin is taking it down to her? asks Roger, an edge in his voice. Yes, she says. Roger's forehead furrows. I wish you hadn't done that, he says. I'm sorry, she says, I didn't realize... Good night, Carolyn, he says, angry. She says good night sadly.Roger goes into the drawing room while she heads upstairs. Clearly worried, he stands in front of his rifle collection before taking one down from the wall.

Cottage - I'm asking you for a definite commitment, Burke tells Laura. I don't know what kind to give you, she says. I want to know what you are going to do for me, he says. She sighs. I told you that whatever it is that has to be done cannot be done until I have custody of David, she says--I want David just as much as you want my testimony. But you haven't told me that you would give me that testimony, he reminds her. First of all, she says, it was very foolish of you to come here--if Roger had the slightest notion that I was going to do something in your favor, I would never get David. Why are you here? he asks. To be nearer David, she says. I wish I could be sure of you, he says--something about you I can't figure out--I don't know what it is--I waited for years to see you, wondering what I would say when I saw you again--how I would rant, rave and carry on--call you every name in the book--send you to jail along with that so-called husband of yours. But you don't feel this way now? she asks. For some inexplicable reason, he says, staring at her profile, that kind of revenge has faded--I have no doubt what I'll do to Roger--but you're another story--Roger's rotten as he always was--he'll get what he deserves--but I don't know about you--you owe me. Owe you what? she asks. Some years of life I never had--some love I never had, either, he says softly. I don't have the power to give those things, she says. He moves in closer and kisses her cheek. Don't, Burke, this isn't the time, she says. Yes it is, he insists, nuzzling her chin--you know it and I know it. Please, Burke, she begs.The front door opens as Burke is about to plant a kiss. Roger stands there, intensely angry, rifle aimed directly at Burke.

NOTES: Will Roger do away with Burke then and there? Finding his arch rival and his wife about to smooch can't do anything but fan the fires of discontent. Perhaps Roger will simply shoot both Burke and Laura--then we can have a really interesting trial!

Carolyn is jealous, but I don't think Burke wants anything more than getting a re-trial on that manslaughter charge--and clearing his name. Laura has but one reason to be there--to get David. Problems of the past don't concern her. Burke romances two women in this episode, smoothly. He really does know how to please the ladies--and how he aroused the big green monster in Carolyn.

So Laura died in a fire in Phoenix, huh? Interesting. What happens when they do get a positive ID? Who is this strange woman with a fascination for fire? Why does David keep dreaming about going into a fire to his mother? Why is Sam painting a canvas with Laura in the midst of fire?


Episode #139 - They re-do the scene in which Laura tries to fight off Burke's advances (she seems far less interested this time) and Roger enters the cottage, rifle in hand. Roger! cries Laura. What do you think you're doing? asks Burke. Get away from my wife! orders roger. Is this your idea of a joke? asks Burke. Far from it, says Roger, I demand to know what you're doing here. Renewing an old acquaintance, says Burke. You have no business with my wife--from now on, stay away from her, commands Roger. Is that an order? Asks Burke. Roger you don't understand, says Laura. I'm talking to Devlin, says Roger. I'm listening, says Burke. You'd better listen, warns Roger--stay away from my wife. And if I refuse? asks Burke. I'll kill you, says Roger--nothing would give me greater pleasure!

Roger holds the gun steady. He and Burke stare at each other. Laura is very perturbed. You won't shoot, says Burke. Don't test me, says Roger, you'll be sorry. Will I? asks Burke, I could kill you and no court in the land would hold me responsible, says Roger--you're trespassing on my property and bothering my wife! Was I bothering you? Burke asks Laura. You don't understand, she says, please let me explain! I understand all I need to, he says, I could shoot Devlin with complete immunity from the law. Then shoot me, says Burke, stepping forward. Roger's breathing increases. I'm warning you, he says, stay where you are. Getting nervous? asks Burke, stepping forward again, and again. Take another step and I'll shoot, says Roger. Go ahead--shoot, says Burke.Roger is just about to, but Burke grabs the muzzle of the rifle and the two men get into it. The gun fires. Laura gasps. Burke takes the gun away from Roger and tosses it to the floor. I'll kill you for this, I swear I'll kill you! shouts Roger. Can't you two leave each other alone? asks Laura--do you have to start this thing all over again?--you're behaving the way you did 10 years ago! Roger turns away. Get him out of here, he tells Laura. She goes to Burke and asks him to please go--for her sake. All right, I'll go, says Burke, because of you. He picks up the gun. I meant what I said, Roger tells him, I'll kill you if it's the last thing I do. I heard you, says Burke, brandishing the rife, and he leaves after saying goodbye to Laura. What did he want? demands Roger. Calm down, she urges. Answer me! he says. Hr brought me my bag! She says. What were you talking about? asks Roger. David, mostly, she says, how it feels to be back in Collinsport--nothing that wouldn't come under the heading of general conversation. From what I heard, says Roger, it was far more intimate than that--legally you're still my wife, I refuse to have you playing around with Devlin. I was not playing around with anyone, she says, I don't have the slightest interest in Burke. Why did you tell him your reason for coming back here? demands Roger--you told him you came here not to see me, but to take David back with you!--why? Why not? she asks, when I leave here it will be public knowledge anyway. You deliberately encouraging him, letting him play with you, play into your hands, accuses Roger. It's not true, she says--I am pleasant to Burke because it is the best way to handle him--I have said nothing that was in any way damaging to you. Allow me to remind you that if there is a re-trial, says Roger, it will be damaging to you, too. You have said that before, she says. I want it to sink in! he insists, furious--you committed a perjury--if I go down, you go with me! I am fully aware of that, she says. Don't ever forget it if Devlin comes around here, he says. I haven't told Burke anything, I don't intend to--the accident was in the past--we're not living in the past--all I want is David--I'm not concerned with anything else! Your best chance of getting David is cooperating with me, he says. I'm trying to cooperate with you, she says. Then try a little hander and stay away from Devlin! he shouts. I'll handle Burke, she says, please don't worry about it. If Burke thought you were a loyal wife to me, says Roger, he wouldn't try to get information out of you--why don't you try acting like a loyal wife, even if it would be a travesty. I am not disloyal! She says. Burke and everyone in this town has got to think you're loyal to me, says Roger--whether it's true or not. All right, Roger! she says, fed up. It's going to be all right! he says--the happiest day of my life will be the day you take my son and go--if David is my son! She looks at him, stunned, as he exits the cottage. Laura looks out the window.

David sleeps restlessly, seemingly unable to find a comfortable sleeping position. David! she calls, three times, and he hears her voice, making him even more restless.

Collinwood - Vicki enters David's room and awakens him. She sits on his bed, shaking him. I'm awake, he says sleepily--what time is it? It's 10:30, she says--you're a real sleepy-head this morning. He sits up. I kept waking up in the night, he says, I had that dream about. About your mother? asks Vicki. Yes, says David, she kept calling my name again, over and over again--she kept telling me she wanted to take me away--and there was that fire all around--it was scary. I'm sorry you keep having that dream, says Vicki. Why do you suppose I keep having them? asks David. Because you're mother's on your mind, she says, and I think in the back of your mind, you really want to see her. Maybe, he says, I'm not sure. Roger comes in and bids Vicki and David good morning. He tells David to get dressed; he's taking him down to Matthew's cottage. This alarms David. That's right, to see your mother, says Roger--she spent the night there last night, she's going to be staying there for some time. I'm not so sure I want to see her, says David uneasily. Don't start that nonsense, warns Roger. It's not nonsense, insists David--there's something scary about my mother. that's ridiculous, says Roger--get dressed, we're going to see your mother. No! says David firmly. Do as I say right now! says Roger. I said no, I don't want to! retorts David. Are you going to behave, or am I going to have to give you a sound thrashing? Demands roger. David pushes back the covers and flies out of bed, into Vicki's arms. Don't you come near me! he warns his father, don't let him hurt me. Vicki holds him in her arms, assuring him no one is going to hurt him--go get washed up. OK, he says, then tells his father, "I'm not going near my mother--and you can't make me!" He exits the room, slamming the door. What am I going to do with that child? He helplessly asks Vicki. Would you mind a suggestion? She asks. I would welcome anything, he says. you're not going to get David to obey, she says, by spanking him. He deserves a good spanking, says Roger--he's just being obstinate for the sake of it. I don't think so, says Vicki--he was genuinely frightened--he had that dream about his mother again. Why would he be frightened of seeing Laura--what could be going on in that little mind of his? I have a theory about David, says Vicki, making the bed--I think he really wants to see his mother, but when he does, she'll reject him--there were a lot of children like that in the foundling home--they wanted love--but they didn't know how to handle it. Laura wouldn't reject David! says Roger, quite the contrary, she needs him as much as he needs her. I know that, says Vicki, but David doesn't--he's got to learn that for himself. How if he keeps refusing to see her? asks Roger. I don't know, she says, but I'm going to have to think of some way to get the two of them together. I wish you would, he says, not only for my sake, but for hers--his behavior was a slap in the face for her. I feel very sorry for her, says Vicki, and I will do what I can. Thank you, he says, I do appreciate your attitude. Was the sheriff here last night? Vicki asks--I woke up last night and saw his car parked...was there some trouble? No, our local defender of the peace gave another demonstration of his incompetence--there was a fire in Phoenix, Arizona, and there was a body found, and they thought it was Laura.--it's ridiculous, isn't it?--apparently the Phoenix police are as incompetent as our own.Does Mrs. Collins have anything to say about it? asks Vicki. Not much, says Roger, anyway, it's not important--the main issue is David--please try to think of some way to get them together--it will be of vital importance to all of us. Vicki fixes David's bed, smoothing it down nicely.

Laura received yet another visitor, Vicki, bearing a breakfast tray (and we spot the camera in the shot). I thought we might have breakfast together, suggest Vicki. that was very thoughtful of you, remarks Laura as Vicki sets the tray down on the table. Has Mrs. Johnson been in yet? asks Vicki. Yes, a little while ago, says Laura--she'll be back later--she certain does wonders with a dust cloth. I'm surprised you managed as well as you did, says Vicki, setting the table. I managed very well, says Laura. I see you've made a fire, notes Vicki. Yes, I love a nice fire, says Laura--there's something so soothing about it. Vicki takes off her coat and sits down near Laura, who asks if David is up yet. Yes, he got up a little while ago, says Vicki. Does he want to see me? asks Laura eagerly. He's still awfully excited from last night, says Vicki. That's all right, you don't have to make excuses for him, says Laura. I'm sure that he will want to see you, Vicki assures her--after he gets over this stage fright. I hope you're right, says Laura, I've waited so long to see him, sometimes it seems like an eternity. I know, says Vicki, you see he's missed you as much as you've missed him. Before I came back to Collinsport, did he ever talk about me? asks Laura. All the time, says Vicki--he told me how much he loved you, and wanted you to come back. Did he? asks Laura. Yes, says Vicki, that's why I'm sure that this thing is just a phase. Tell me about him, says Laura, anything that comes to mind--his favorite color, what he likes for breakfast, I want to know everything there is to know. His favorite color is blue, says Vicki. That's my favorite color, says Laura, delighted, And as for breakfast, says Vicki, sitting at the table, I think he'd be perfectly happy to have hot dogs and hamburgers every morning if he could. that sounds typical, says Laura, joining her at the table. David is very typical (?) says Vicki, in lots of ways--but he's more sensitive than most children--and I think he's much more intelligent. That's very good to hear, says Laura--I wonder if you could do me a favor--could you get me a lock of his hair?--I know it's an odd request, but I have a piece of his baby hair, I keep it with me all the time in this locket--she holds it out for Vicki to see. That's a beautiful locket, says Vicki. Thank you, says Laura--it's a family heirloom--Roger gave it to me on our wedding night. Oh, says Vicki. I've kept it with me all the time I was in the sanitarium, says Laura--I suppose you know I was there for a very long time. Yes, says Vicki, I had heard it mentioned. You don't have to be embarrassed about it, Laura assures her, it's perfectly all right for me to talk about it--in fact, very good therapy. I'm not embarrassed, says Vicki. When I was there, says Laura, sometimes it was my only contact with reality--it meant I had a son somewhere outside those walls--he was growing up and waiting for me to come back to him--if only I could win David's love and acceptance--that's all I want. Perhaps if you came back to the house with me now, you could talk to him, suggests Vicki. No, says Laura, he doesn't want to see me, I don't want to force myself on him, I'll just upset or frighten him. If only there was some way the two of you could meet, muses Vicki, somewhere natural, as if it was an accident--yes, wait a minute, I do have a plan--every afternoon, after David's studies, I take him for a walk, between 4:30 and 5:00--you could plan to meet us on that walk! If you think it wouldn't upset him... says Laura. No, says Vicki, because it wouldn't seem planned at all, it would just be an accident--I'm sure he wouldn't be upset. Where could we meet? asks Laura. The greenhouse, suggests Vicki. How about on top of Widows' Hill, says Laura.Why Widows' Hill? Asks Vicki. I used to take David up there when he was a little boy, says Laura, he liked to watch the ships--I just thought possibly he might be more willing to accept me in a familiar surrounding. All right, agrees Vicki, then we'll meet a little after 4:30 on Widows' Hill. Thank you very much, says Laura--I really do appreciate your help! I want David to understand and accept you, says Vicki--he needs someone--he needs a mother. And I need him, she says, you have no idea how much--in fact, no one knows. She sits before the fire.

Vicki and David walk together, very quickly. He asks her where they're going. To Widows' Hill, she tells him. When they arrive there, David asks her why she brought him up here. To look at the ocean, she says, I like to look at it, don't you? Sometimes, says David--I wonder how many people have died here? That's a morbid thought, she says. Lots of people have, according to the legends, he says. I know all about the legends, she says, but I don't want to talk about anything that depressing. Why--because you're afraid of the legends? He asks her. Because I don't, she says. David gazes down and admires the huge waves. Come back from there, you're making me nervous, she says. I won't fall, he says, annoyed. Come back here, commands Vicki. OK, he says, sometimes you are the biggest scaredy cat. Scaredy cats don't have accidents, she says. Neither do I, says David. There's always a first time, she says. David looks up at the gulls--did anyone ever catch a seagull and keep it for a pet? he asks. I wouldn't know, says Vicki. That's what I was thinking I might do, he says. That's very interesting, says Vicki. It's boring hanging around up here, let's go home, he says. Wait a minute, she says, stopping him--isn't that a ship out there? He looks where she's pointing, on the horizon. Oh, yeah, I think it's a ship, he says, but I can't make it out. I wonder what kind of ship it is? asks Vicki. Probably an ocean liner, says David, going around the world--to all the far off places. Maybe it is, she agrees. You know what I'm going to do when I grow up? he asks--I'm going to get on an ocean liner and go all around the world to all the far off places. "Are you going to go to Madagascar?" asks Laura, stepping out of the bushes. He gazes at her stunned. You remember we used to talk about far away places, she says, when you were a little boy, you used to ask me about Madagascar--you liked the sound of the word--do you remember that? He nods. I still know lots of things about faraway places, she says--I could tell you all about them if you want me to--David, come here. NO! he cries, moving close to the cliff's edge. Be careful! warns Vicki. Come to me, please, begs Laura, holding out her hand. No, I won't, I won't! wails David, backing up further. Look out! calls Vicki. Come back, David, says Laura urgently, come to me, please! No, he says. Come to me! she pleads again.David falls. Vicki shouts his name. He clings to a rock, yelling for help, as the hungry waves lap at the shore below.

NOTES: Will David be the next victim of Widows' Hill, or will Vicki and/or Laura be able to haul him back to safety? I think we can safely conclude the answer to that, but will this bring him together with his mother or push them further apart? She sounded just the way she did in his dream; too bad Vicki didn't alert her.

I always get the impression that the only way Roger and Burke will end their quarrels is with pistols at 10 paces, a real old-fashioned gun fight. The way Roger brought his rifle to the cottage was almost humorous. I wondered if he would have murdered both Burke and Laura if he found them in a romantic clinch. I don't think Roger needs to worry about Laura--she won't be on his side, because that means losing David--and she's far too passionate about her need for him to lose him.

Why does Laura want a lock of David's hair? Sounds potentially witchy to me! On the one hand, Laura seems like a mother anxious to be reunited with her son; on the other hand, she seems to be an otherworldly creature with strange designs on David, witnessed by Sam's creepy painting and David's nightmares. Which is she?

Scary last scene there!

Love, Robin