NORTHERN EXPOSURE - "Manhattan Project"















NORTHERN EXPOSURE
"Manhattan Project"

by


Ted Rabinowitz

























                                        © Ted Rabinowitz
                                           (213) 663-5757

FADE IN


INT. CHRIS' DJ BOOTH - DAY

Chris looks out over the main street of Cicely as he reads the various announcements. Ed sits next to him in the booth.

CHRIS
...and starting Wednesday, yours truly is going on a little R and R. I've been thinking a lot, lately; about death, and life, and that great dark that's been waiting for all of us since we first turned away from the camp fire and looked out into the African night. I've decided to advance upon the unknown, instead of bowing to it. During my spiritual hiatus, Maurice will be airing his annual Rogers and Hammerstein retrospective, including the now justly famous analysis of the duo's lean years, 1941 to 42. Sounds catchy, Cicely. Now, as some of you may know, today is the birthday of our own Dr. Joel Fleischman. In honor of his big two-nine, Ed Chigliak has asked to dedicate today's weather report to Dr. Fleischman. Take it away, Ed.


INT. ADAM AND EVE'S CABIN - DAY

Ed's voice continues over. Joel has just finished examining the couple's baby. Adam is curled into a catatonic ball on the sofa. Eve is badgering Joel. 

ED (VO)
Well, Chris, it looks like Alaska in New York, where an unseasonable cold snap continues for its sixth straight day as an Arctic pressure system keeps that cold, dry Cicely air hovering over the Big Apple.

Joel keeps nodding to Eve, but he doesn't stop packing. He edges to the door and makes his escape.

ED (VO)
Before we go to our other weather, Chris, I'd like to play a song in tribute to Dr. ­Fleischman's big hometown, the glitzy, glamorous City That Never Sleeps. 


INT. MAGGIE'S AIRPLANE - DAY

Joel runs to the plane. He gestures urgently for Maggie to take off. As the plane spirals upward, Joel looks out the window, and his jaw drops. Reflected in his glasses, we can clearly see the NEW YORK SKYLINE.

SINATRA (RADIO)
...these little town blues,
Are melting away, ­I'll make a brand new start of it, New York, New York...


TITLES


INT. THE BRICK - DAY

Maggie and Joel enter, arguing fiercely.

JOEL
You deliberately ignored me! I see something amazing, incredible, something with, with cosmic implications, and you don't even turn to look around!

MAGGIE
That is the last time I do you a favor, Fleischman. I let you hitchhike, I save you two ­hours on your trip. I don't get any thanks, but I don't expect any. Not from Joel Fleischman. But I didn't expect delusions!

JOEL
What!?

MAGGIE
Delusions! Hallucinations! Something sick and twisted is going on in your ferrety little brain, ­Fleischman, and I want no part of it.

Maggie sits at the counter. Joel sits by the door. They stew. Holling comes over.

HOLLING
Well, what can I do for-

MAGGIE
It's not like it was even a very interesting hallucination. I mean, if you asked me the one thing Joel  Fleischman would hallucinate, that's what I would pick!

HOLLING
Can I get you-

JOEL
I see. My dementia doesn't meet your obviously high standards. I'm not as original as a reincarnated dog, or a  psychotic fear of the outside ­world; something clever like that.

MAGGIE
Low blow, Fleischman!

HOLLING
I can come back.

MAGGIE
I'm sorry, Holling. I'd like some coffee, please, and a carrot muffin.

HOLLING
Wise decision. Joel? We've got those bagels in.

JOEL
Thanks, Holling.

Holling leaves. Maggie and Joel stare sullenly into the distance. Holling returns with the food.

HOLLING
What are you two arguing about, if you don't mind my asking?

Joel and Maggie look at each other suspiciously. Joel indicates that Maggie should talk.

MAGGIE
Well, Joel thinks he saw something from my plane.

HOLLING
Now when you say "plane", you mean airplane, right?

MAGGIE
Of course. What did you think?

HOLLING
Maybe you were talking spiritually, I don't know.

MAGGIE
My plane. My airplane. My twin-engine Continental. 

JOEL
It looked like...like Manhattan.

HOLLING
The island?

JOEL
That skyline is unmistakable, Holling. I saw everything from Battery Park north to 34th Street. 

HOLLING
Oh, the Weehauken view.

JOEL
Right.

HOLLING
You know, I always felt that suffered by comparison to the Upper West Side as seen from the Palisades.

MAGGIE
Holling, I didn't know you'd been to New York!

HOLLING
Oh, in my youth, in my youth.

JOEL
We're getting sidetracked here. The point is, I saw New York from O'Connell's plane. No way was she high enough for me to see completely over the Laurentian Shield into the Tri-State Area.

HOLLING
Hmm. Maggie, were you flying north of Mt. Schwartz, by any chance?

MAGGIE
Yeah.

HOLLING
And just west of that chain of glacial lakes?

MAGGIE
Of course!

HOLLING
Well, there you go.

JOEL
Excuse me. There I go, how?

HOLLING
Joel, you and Maggie have­become the most recent victims of the Cicely Triangle.

JOEL
The Cicely Triangle?

Shelley walks by, carrying plates.

SHELLEY
You guys hit the Triangle? Awesome!

JOEL
What, like the Bermuda Triangle? Holling, I'm a little too old for that. 

HOLLING
Oh no, Joel, nothing that extreme. Although Little Joe Rivas did vanish in there in '57 with a full dog team...but that was probably because he was drunk. Little Joe never could hold his liquor. No, this is different. You see, the area's a cup for the prevailing winds. It fills up with warm air over the glaciers, and you get all sorts of strange weather patterns: inversions, sun-dogs, green flashes, that kind of thing.

JOEL
So you're saying this was some kind of mirage. Clouds shaped like skyscrapers, and so on.

HOLLING
Precisely.

Joel ponders for a moment.

JOEL
No. I saw New York. And I'm going to prove it.

He leaves.

MAGGIE
He is insane! Completely insane! Am I wrong, Holling?

HOLLING
I wouldn't know, Maggie. Say, are you going to eat that muffin?

MAGGIE
What? Oh, no.

Holling eats the muffin.

HOLLING
Thanks.


EXT. CHRIS'S TRAILER - DAY

Chris and Ed load a small truck with an eclectic assortment of religious gear.

CHRIS
...okay, did we get the drums?

ED
Yup.

CHRIS
And the sacred pollen?

ED
In the leather bag with your crystals.

CHRIS
And the fish spears?

ED
Yup. Are you sure you don't want to take a space heater, or a flashlight?

CHRIS
Absolutely. I'm pursuing the dream beast here, Ed, the spirit guide, the embodied unity of the animistic cosmos. You can't do that with the products of Western linear thought.

He takes Ed by the shoulder.

CHRIS
"Smash the radio; no outside voices here. Smash the watch; you cannot tear the day to shreds. Smash the camera; you cannot steal away the spirits."

ED
Nietzsche.

CHRIS
Peter Gabriel.

He hauls a huge boom box onto the truck.

ED
Oh. Are you still fasting?

Chris looks shifty.

CHRIS
Well, I'll tell you. I just didn't have enough time, you know? I had to work overtime for Maurice to agree to the vacation, and with that, and getting ready for the trip...Did you talk to your uncle Anku about helping me out on this?

ED
Yup.

CHRIS
What did he say?

ED
No.

CHRIS
Oh. That's it?

ED
He also said "thank you."

CHRIS
He's probably working on something else right now.

ED
No. Not really.

CHRIS
Oh.

ED
Well, see you.

CHRIS
Take care, Ed.

Ed waves and leaves. Chris continues loading the truck.


EXT. MAIN STREET - DAY

Joel walks slowly down the street, marking a map. People stare at him, wave, and walk on. Chris's TRUCK almost hits Joel. Chris leans out of the cab.

CHRIS
Hey, sorry about that, Joel.

JOEL
Don't worry about it.

He walks over to the truck.

JOEL
So, ready for your vacation?

CHRIS
A voyage of discovery, Joel, a journey to the inner self.

JOEL
The inner self, where is that? Right above the colon?

Chris looks blank.

JOEL
Doctor joke. Sorry.

He looks at the cargo in the back.

JOEL
You've got a lot of interesting stuff back here, Chris - candles, uh-huh, and that's a Navajo yeimask, am I right?

CHRIS
I'm impressed.

JOEL
You're pretty much loaded for bear, here. Spiritually speaking.

CHRIS
Yessirree Bob.

JOEL
Well, good luck, Chris. I don't want to hold you up.

Chris waves good-bye and drives away. Joel stares at the truck for a moment.

JOEL
Completely pathological.

He picks up his map, compass, and calipers, and starts measuring again.


INT. MAGGIE'S LIVING ROOM - DAY

Maggie lies on the couch, immersed in a paperback romance. There is a KNOCK. Shamefaced, she shoves the book under the sofa and answers the door. It is Joel.

JOEL
Hello, O'Connell.

MAGGIE
What is it, Fleischman? I'm in the middle of something here.

JOEL
Can I come in?

MAGGIE
Well...all right, but only for a second.

JOEL
Okay. (Sits) I just wanted to apologize.

MAGGIE
Excuse me?

JOEL
For the way I behaved. You were absolutely right not to turn the plane around. It wasn't on your flight plan.

MAGGIE
Well...well... that's very mature of you, Fleischman. I-

JOEL
I had no business interfering with your piloting.

MAGGIE
Right.

JOEL
You were right and I was wrong.

MAGGIE
Yeah.

JOEL
So-

MAGGIE
What's this all about, Fleischman?

JOEL
O'Connell, I'm shocked. Don't you believe me?

MAGGIE
You want me to take you up again, don't you?

JOEL
So what if I do? Is it against the, the by-laws of the Alaskan Independent Women's Association to fly doctors in airplanes?

MAGGIE
What is this thing you have about that mirage?
(Beat. Sudden realization) 
My God. You're jealous!

JOEL
WHAT!?

MAGGIE
I never even realized it! You see me and Mike together, and you want some attention, so you fabricated this whole thing!

JOEL
I've heard some weird stuff from you, O'Connell, but this is baroque!

MAGGIE
Oh, Fleischman, don't be embarrassed because I saw through your little scheme. I'm not mad. It's actually rather sweet, in a neurotic sort of way.

JOEL
(standing)
You know what? Never mind. I'll get Red to fly me. I can wait.

MAGGIE
Oh, don't be like that. I'll fly you.

Joel walks to the door. Maggie stops him.

MAGGIE
Don't get so huffy! It's okay. Really! I'm flattered!

JOEL
This is not some ploy to, to...snare your affections, O'Connell. Just so you know, I'd rather mate with a wolverine than have you as an intimate partner in any way.

MAGGIE
Oooh, you're so cute when you're mad.


EXT. CAMPSITE IN THE WOODS - DAY

A stone circle filled with relics of various faiths. The only modern thing is a BOOM BOX. Chris is dressed as a Cheyenne brave. 

Chris pushes a button on the boom box. Native American MUSIC fills the clearing. Chris starts to dance.

CHRIS
I am a warrior! Aiii-Yii-Yeee!
I am a warrior! Aiii-Yii-Yeee!
My name is Chris Stevens, and I am a warrior!
Come to me, Spirits of Earth and Air!
Come to me, Spirits of Fire and Water!

Two INDIAN FISHERMEN watch from the trees, wearing down vests and other LL Bean gear. They leave, dropping some change into Chris's open guitar case.

CHRIS
Come to me, Great Spirit!
Come to me, Great Spirit!
Come to me, Great Spirit!
Send your messenger!
Send your messenger!
SEND YOUR MESSENGER!


INT. A HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Chris' brother BERNARD lies in bed reading a book. There is a KNOCK on the door.

BERNARD
Come in?

Silhouetted against the light in the hallway is what seems to be a CONSTRUCTION FOREMAN, wearing a hard hat, smoking a CIGAR, and carrying a clipboard.

THE FOREMAN
(Checks his clipboard)
You Chris Stevens?

BERNARD
No. Chris is my brother. He's in Alaska.

FOREMAN
Goddamn work order.

The Foreman exits and slams the door. And Bernard wakes up from his dream, alone in his hotel bedroom.


INT. THE K-BHR DJ BOOTH - DAY

Maurice is at the mike.

MAURICE
...a well-known fact that the dream sequence from OKLAHOMA! was the first entrance of ballet into America's traditional musical theater. (Lowers his voice) And if you want one American's opinion, it's been going downhill ever since, culminating in such grandiose schemata as productions based on rock and roll, Pointillism, and (shudders) T.S. Elliot. Completely decadent. Now a little business. Folks, I've gotten quite a lot ­of listener input from you all ­in the past three days, and as you know, I'm always open to constructive criticism. 


INT. MAGGIE'S AIRPLANE - DAY

Maggie pilots while Joel scans the horizon, occasionally taking a photo.

MAURICE (VO)
However, if I find the switch-hitter, pardon my French, who sent me the Challenger t-shirt with the suggestion that--

Joel turns off the radio.

MAGGIE
(Hums)

JOEL
What was that?

MAGGIE
Oh, nothing. 
(sing-song)
Fleischman loves me, Fleischman loves me...

JOEL
I do NOT love you, O'Connell. N. O. T. Not.

MAGGIE
Fleischman's only ­saying that, Fleischman's only saying that...

JOEL
STOP IT!
(Maggie stops) 
Okay, ­turn right over that mountain. 

He snaps two more pictures.

MAGGIE
Fleischman, I'm actually worried about you. You're really stressing out about this - I mean, even more than you normally do. You're ruining your immune system. Mike says your whole T-cell count can drop to nothing if you obsess like that.

JOEL
Excuse me? Mike says?

MAGGIE
Yeah, Mike says. What's the problem?

JOEL
It's just funny, that's all.

MAGGIE
Funny how? 

JOEL
Do you come to me for legal advice?

MAGGIE
No...

JOEL
(Checking his camera) 
And yet you'll go for medical advice not to me, not to a licensed physician who's spent a third of his life studying medicine, but to Mr. Hypochondriac, a man so neurotic he needs a spacesuit to do his gardening.

MAGGIE
Fleischman's jealous, Fleischman's jealous...

JOEL
(Sharp) 
Turn right, here.

MAGGIE
Fleischman, what are we looking for? I mean, I don't see any city down there.

JOEL
Photographic evidence, O'Connell. Something to make even skeptics like you sit up and take notice. 
(Checks his camera) 
Something this big has ­to leave traces: crop circles, cattle mutilations, bleeding walls. I'm talking major paranormal phenomena here. 
(Low) 
And maybe, just maybe, a way to get home on weekends.


EXT. CHRIS' CAMP - DAY

Filthy and unshaven, Chris stares at his frying pan, which holds only two anchovy-sized fish. Chris grabs his spear and leaves the camp.


EXT. A STREAM - DAY

Chris casts with the spear. No luck. Downstream, Ed Chigliak and the Indian Fishermen use shiny new rods. They wave cheerfully. Chris slips back into the woods. 


EXT. THE WOODS - DAY

Chris hesitates and then follows the path Ed and the others used to get to the stream.


EXT. THE INDIAN CAMP - DAY

This camp has all the modern conveniences - spacious tents, a Ford Bronco, battery-powered TV. Chris moves to the cooler, drawn by the smell of...food.

Chris opens the cooler, wolfs down some jerky, then grabs a double armful of snack food and flees.


EXT. CHRIS'S CAMP - NIGHT

Chris sprawls in his sacred circle in a post-binge coma. Snack wrappers drift around him. 


EXT. THE PRAIRIE - DAY

Dressed as a Cheyenne warrior, Chris arrives at a SIGNPOST. The markers read "Midbrain," "Id," and "Cerebral Cortex." Chris runs toward the cortex. 

Chris doesn’t notice a DANGER SIGN: "WARNING! R.E.M. SLEEP ACTIVITIES AHEAD!"


EXT. THE VALLEY OF MEMORIES – DAY

All the significant objects of Chris’ life are crowded together like junk in an attic. To his left is the CATAPULT; to the right, his old HARLEY. In the distance is the WEST VIRGINIA STATE CORRECTIONAL FACILITY. 

SAGES lecture like the Hall of the Presidents at Disneyland: ALBERT EINSTEIN stands before a blackboard, WALT WHITMAN sits on a porch in a rocking chair, SIGMUND FREUD gestures with his cigar. All of them talk at once, making a gabbling NOISE like a bunch of wind-up toys. It is a cacophony, chaotic.

Chris wanders happily through this. He arrives at a group of free-standing bookshelves. He picks a book off the shelf - a work by CARL JUNG.

CHRIS
“Man and His Symbols!” Charlie, I haven't seen you in years! All right!

Chris starts to read. The SOUND OF BULLDOZERS and HEAVY MACHINERY grows louder, and the bookshelves are smashed apart.

Chris pulls himself out of the debris to see a WRECKING BALL nearby. His valley is now a demolition site. 


INT. CHRIS’ TRAILER – NIGHT

Chris wakes up in a cold sweat.


INT. RUTH-ANNE'S GROCERY - DAY

Ruth-Anne is sorting through her merchandise. Joel enters. He is agitated but cheerful.

JOEL
Is it here yet?

RUTH-ANNE
No, Joel. Another few minutes.

JOEL
Uh-huh. Uh-huh. 

He wanders around the store for a bit, fiddling with the cans and bottles. He sees Ruth-Anne watching him and stops abruptly. 

JOEL
I'm sorry, Ruth-Anne. Am I bothering you?

RUTH-ANNE
Actually, it's a welcome change from your usual sullen melancholy.

JOEL
Really?

SHELLY
(Approaching from behind with groceries) 
You bet, Dr. Fleischman. Usually you're a real grouch bear; it's kinda cool to see you change, even if now you're off your rocker. Ring me up, please, Ruth-Anne.

Ruth-Anne gives Shelley her change. 

JOEL
Off my rocker?

SHELLY
Sure. You're waiting for pictures of your New York thing, right?

JOEL
How did you know?

SHELLY
Maggie told me. About how you were secretly in love with her, and you couldn't admit it, and it's making you crazy so you're seeing your old home town. 

JOEL
WHAT!?
SHELLY
Hey, don't sweat it, Dr. F. I know I'd go crazy if Holling ever left me! Maybe I'd see something else, though, like Slash, or Axl, or a Fender Strat. I think it's kinda romantic, really.

JOEL
Ah-HAH. Shelley, have you ever seen me display toward O'Connell anything warmer than indifference?

SHELLEY
Huh?

JOEL
No, never mind. Ruth-Anne, have you heard about this?

RUTH-ANNE
(Prim) 
Joel, in my generation it was considered impolite to pass judgment on the sanity of others.

JOEL
I see. I see! I notice though, that you weren't so quick not to pass judgment-to, to make snap decisions when Ed was walking around here with that invisible friend of his! A classic schizophrenic pattern, by the way.

RUTH-ANNE
That's different, Joel. Ed has always had a full and rich inner life. Now you, on the other hand-

JOEL
(Aggressive) 
Yes?

RUTH-ANNE
Well-

JOEL
Never mind. Just tell me, does everyone in town think I'm crazy now?

Shelly looks uncomfortable.

SHELLY
Well, I kinda told Chris and Dan, and-

JOEL
Wonderful.

The MAIL TRUCK pulls up outside.

JOEL
If you ladies will excuse me, I think my photos have arrived.

He exits with as much dignity as he can still muster.


INT. K-BHR - DAY

Chris is on the air. He looks a lot better than he did in the woods.

CHRIS
...and although I didn't achieve the spiritual regeneration I expected, needless to say I'm still Chris in the Morning, still pondering the big questions and still ready to take yours. 
(He waits a moment, then hits ­a phone button) 
Chris in the Morning, you're on the air.

VOICE
Hey, Chris in the Morning, this is Tom from Tetchawa.

CHRIS
Hi, Tom.

TOM
Is it true that ­they're starting to make those great old Enfield cycles again? 

CHRIS
Yeah, it's true. They're coming in from India, oddly enough, and there should be some in Fairbanks come spring.

VOICE
Excellent.

CHRIS
(Punches a button) 
Chris in the Morning, you're on the air.

VOICE
Hi, Chris in the Morning, this is Rosalie from Sleetemute.

CHRIS
Hi, Rosalie.

ROSALIE
Chris, I was reading some of Jaynes's work on perceptual sets, and I was wondering. Do you think it's valid to apply the Jungian concept of synchronicity to what is ultimately an organic function?

Silence. Something in Rosalie's question has spooked Chris badly. He looks puzzled.

CHRIS
Synchronicity? I...I'm sorry, Rosalie, what did you say it was?

ROSALIE
Jungian? You know, Carl Jung? You were talking about him last week, Chris.

CHRIS
(Slow) 
I'll have to ponder that, Rosalie, and get back to you. If you call back tomorrow, I promise... Jung?

ROSALIE
Chris? Are you okay?

CHRIS
Umm no, Rosalie. I don't think so. 
(Looks up, sniffs) 
Has ­anyone been smoking a cigar in here?


INT. THE BRICK - DAY

Joel sits at the bar, gloomily studying a pile of fuzzy, out-of-focus photos. Holling wanders over.

HOLLING
What have you got there, Joel?

JOEL
Pictures.

He studies them, holds one up to Holling.

JOEL
Does that look like a skyscraper to you?

HOLLING
No, Joel, I think that's an elk.

JOEL
(Abstracted) 
Uh-huh, uh-huh. 
(Holds up another) 
Taxi?

HOLLING
Glacier.

JOEL
Right.

Ed enters and takes a seat at the bar.


ED
Hey Holling, Dr. Fleischman. Whatcha got there?

JOEL
Pictures. Ed, let me ask you something. You're fairly knowledgeable about photography, light, exposure. What do you make of this?

Joel slides the picture over to Ed, who studies it carefully. Holling leaves and returns with a grape Nehi for Ed.

ED
Hey, great elk, Dr. Fleischman! Why did you shoot it?

JOEL
I was trying to take some photos of... well, of something pretty amazing. I mean, it's definitely what you would call...well, unexplainable. You know?

ED
Oh. New York City as seen from Weehauken

JOEL
(Disconcerted) 
Right. And I got fuzzy pictures.

ED
Oh, that happens all the time.

JOEL
It does?

ED
Sure. One time, me and Jimmy Negay went fishing over by Sleetemute, and Jimmy caught this really big salmon. We took a picture of it, but when we got back, the picture was all fuzzed. 

JOEL
This is a little more significant than a monster Coho, Ed.

Ed stares at Joel for a moment, then looks at Holling.

HOLLING
It was a pretty big salmon, Joel.

JOEL
Sorry.

ED
You see, it takes a lot of things to get a picture just right. So if you only get one chance to shoot it, like a salmon, it's usually going to go wrong. That's a well-known fact of photography.

JOEL
So what would you do?

ED
I'd try again.

JOEL
How?

ED
Maybe I'd use a dry fly, instead of live bait. Or a plastic worm. 
(Finishes his Nehi
G'bye, Dr. Fleischman, Holling.

He leaves. Joel ponders the pictures.

HOLLING
You know who really has a good touch with a dry fly, Joel? Adam. Now I know, you'll say it's improbable, but the man has delicate hands-

JOEL
(Sharply) 
Holling! Am I trying to catch a fish?

HOLLING
Well-

JOEL
No, I am not. 
(Beat) 
Holling, do you think I'm crazy? 

HOLLING
No! Not at all. I wouldn't say that.

JOEL
(Beat. Sharp) 
How would you say it?

HOLLING
(Judicious) 
Well, a little highly strung, perhaps. A good night's sleep and you'll be fine. Forget your birthday. Go fishing. Tie some flies.

He hands Joel some dry-fly material.

JOEL
Thanks. 


EXT. CHRIS'S VALLEY OF MEMORIES - DAY

A rubble of books, shelves, and mud. On top is “Man and His Symbols,” now mutilated and illegible. Chris sits upright in the middle of this pile. He's still dressed like a Cheyenne.

CHRIS
What a dream.

He looks up, and once again we can hear the sounds of HEAVY CONSTRUCTION all around. A huge, ugly BUILDING PROJECT is tearing up the land.

CHRIS
Oh, man.

Chris walks through the site.

CHRIS
HEY! WHO'S IN CHARGE HERE?

The CONSTRUCTION FOREMAN we saw in Bernard's dream steps out of the crowd. He still smokes the CIGAR and carries the clipboard.

FOREMAN
I am.

The Foreman looks familiar. In fact, he looks like-

CHRIS
Maurice?

FOREMAN
(Contemptuous) 
Do I look like a (in a camp voice) Maurice?

Yes, he does. The only difference is that the Foreman wears a pencil-thin moustache like a '40s gigolo.

CHRIS
Well, actually-

FOREMAN
Since you don't know my name, let's just say I am that I am, and leave it at that. What's your beef, boy?

CHRIS
Well, I'd like to know what you're doing inside my head, for one thing.

FOREMAN
Can't be your head. I got a work order here for the head of a 
(squints at a piece of paper on a clip-board) 
Chris Stevens...adult male, thirty-one, White. No offense, Tonto, but that couldn't be you, now could it?

Chris looks at himself, dressed in Indian clothing.

CHRIS
(Lame) 
I don't usually dress like this.

FOREMAN
Whatever, it don't signify even if you are Chris Stevens. This job's already been signed for.

He hands Chris a form from his clipboard. As Chris reads, they walk through the construction site.

CHRIS
"Purchase Order 5685-J"? What is this?

FOREMAN
That "J" stands for "Judeo-Christian". Some dumb cracker down in Supply that it should be "NA", you know, Native American, but I made him see the light. 

Another wrecking ball topples the CATAPULT.

CHRIS
(Frantic) 
This is a mistake! I never signed this! I never put in this requisition!

FOREMAN
Why sure you did. Didn't you ask the Great Spirit to send his messenger? You got your wish. You asked for it, son. 

The Foreman grins. It is not pleasant. 


INT. CHRIS’ TRAILER – NIGHT.

Chris wakes up, sweating. He picks up a copy of Hegel from his night stand. He studies it.

CHRIS
I don't remember you. 
(Looks at another book) 
Or you. Oh, man.


INT. THE BRICK - EVENING

Joel and Chris sit side by side, staring at the bar and sipping their beers, each lost in his own thoughts.

CHRIS
...five nights in a row, and now I'm forgetting things! But the worst is the possibility that this Foreman character has some kind of objective reality. I mean, he dovetails pretty tightly with things in the outside world. What if I really did summon him? That's kept me awake a couple of nights in itself. 
(Drinks) 
But there comes a time when you have to say to yourself, "Whoa! Slow down, Stevens, this is just your imagination." It has to be. Right? Strange coincidences, the Unconscious playing games with recent experience, maybe an MSG-induced glitch in the brainflow. I mean, he's just a dream!

JOEL
So what if I follow my dream? Am I insane because of that? How do you define sanity? I mean, what if there's someone who thinks or...or experiences something out of the ordinary, beyond the limited perceptions of the lumpen proletariat, right? And he has to take those first, faltering steps into the void of new life, crossing the frontier, trusting that there will be something on the other side. I mean, that's not insanity! That's bravery! That's defying the herd instinct that has ruled human history since the Paleolithic! 

CHRIS
I don't know if he's that early, but he's definitely primitive, he's from some place deep in my hindbrain, some kind of weird archetypal artifact, you know?

JOEL
Artifacts! Evidence! It should be all over the place, it's a city, for God's sake, it should leave something behind, a mugger, an Indian restaurant, something. But no, just complete emptiness, like staring into an abyss-

CHRIS
-abyss long enough, the abyss stares back. Nietzsche was right-

JOEL
-and so am I, no matter what O'Connell says about me-

CHRIS
-says about me, that I dream a thing like this-

JOEL
-this is a vision, pure and simple-

CHRIS
-simply brain chemistry-

JOEL
-there or not-

CHRIS
-it's not real-

JOEL
I'm okay!

CHRIS
It's up here!

Shelly approaches the two.

SHELLY
What do you want?

CHRIS & JOEL
More beer!

Startled, the two look at each other. 

JOEL
I'm sorry, Chris, were you saying something?

CHRIS
No, no. You?

JOEL
No.

Shelley brings them new mugs. They stare into the mirror above the bar, bringing their mugs to their lips and draining them in perfect synchronization.


INT. UNCLE ANKU'S BASEMENT - EVENING

A wood-paneled rec room filled with trophies, mementos, etc. UNCLE ANKU sits in a recliner, watching TV and eating popcorn. Ed leads Chris into the room. 

ED
(Calling out) 
Uncle Anku! Uncle Anku! It's me, Ed!

ANKU gets out of the recliner. He is a burly man in his sixties. He moves stiffly.

ED
Uncle, this is my friend, Chris Stevens.

CHRIS
(Whispering) 
Ed, thank him for seeing me.

ANKU
You're welcome. What's the trouble?

CHRIS
Oh. Umm. Nothing, really. It's probably just my imagination. Ed wanted me to-

ED
Ancestor trouble.

ANKU
Huh. Is he the one you-

ED
(Hastily) 
Yes, uncle.

ANKU
Yeah, well...

He studies Chris, staring, walking around him.

ANKU
Okay, have a seat. 
(He points to the floor)
Let's get this show on the road.

CHRIS
What, here? Aren't we going to go outside to a clearing or something, or to the sweat lodge?

ANKU
(Shrugs) 
You want to? Makes me no never mind. But let's get a move on, I got to pick up the wife from bingo at ten.

CHRIS
I'm sorry.

ANKU
Okay, have a seat, relax. Ed, get me my drum and my bag, they're in the hall closet. And open a window for the smoke.

Ed nods and leaves. Anku empties the popcorn bowl on the couch and then stoops painfully to put it on the floor. He fills it with crumpled newspaper, pours on some whiskey, and lights a fire with a Zippo. Then he sits opposite Chris, staring at him.

Ed returns with the drum and the bag. He gives the bag to Anku and bangs the drum softly, circling the fire.

Anku stares at Chris, saying nothing. Eventually, he stands, opens his arms wide, and says something UNINTELLIGIBLE. Then he sits down again. Ed stops and sits by the wall. Silence.

CHRIS
Is that it? I mean-

There is a scraping sound from outside, and the sound of a door slamming. Footsteps. Then the Foreman appears at the head of the stairs and comes down.

CHRIS
Maurice, what are you...

It’s the Foreman. 

ANKU
Manny. Good to see you.

FOREMAN
Good to see you too, Anku. When are you coming over to our place?

ANKU
Soon, I think. Prostate cancer. Not good at my age, the cold winters...

FOREMAN
Yeah, the winters are better by us.

ANKU
I'm sure I'll enjoy it.

FOREMAN
All in good time. Now, what seems to be the trouble?

ANKU
Well, this young fellow here, um-

Anku SPEAKS in Inuit. The Foreman EXPLAINS something at length. Anku asks questions, and seems satisfied with the answers. Occasionally the two seem to be sharing a joke at Chris's expense; once or twice Anku expresses surprise, and stares in wonder at Chris.

Chris stares around the room; Ed is beyond the firelight, perhaps asleep. The Foreman offers Anku a cigar; Anku takes it and smokes. 

Finally, the Foreman nods, stares at Chris for a moment, and then leaves the room. Anku douses the fire and turns on the lights.

CHRIS
Well? Did you-

ANKU
I'm sorry, I can't help you.

CHRIS
What do you mean!?
ANKU
I mean you were right. There's nothing wrong with you. You've just got a very vivid imagination, that's all.

Then, staring directly at Chris, he lights up the Foreman's cigar.


EXT. ANKU'S HOUSE - TEN MINUTES LATER

Chris and Ed are walking to the truck.

CHRIS
...can't believe it. He actually told me I was imagining things, when he was standing there all the time with that guy's cigar in his mouth!

ED
What cigar, Chris?

CHRIS
Huh?

ED
Uncle hasn't smoked since he found out he was sick. Chris, you want some water? You okay?


INT. JOEL'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY

Joel enters. Marilyn is already at her desk.

JOEL
I don't want to see anyone today. Cancel all my appointments. If they can walk in to see me, they aren't sick enough. Understand?

MARILYN
No.

JOEL
What don't you understand? Cancel? Appointment? Not sick enough?

MARILYN
I won't cancel just because you're crazy.

JOEL
(Sarcastic) 
Thank you very much.

He stalks into his office and slams the door.


INT. JOEL'S INNER OFFICE - FIVE MINUTES LATER

Joel moodily ties a dry fly. A bunch of KIDS stare and point at him through the office window. He snarls and they scatter. He turns back to the fly. 

He stares hard at it, as though trying to recapture some memory.

JOEL
Adam...Adam ties flies...all right! 


INT. THE K-BHR DJ BOOTH - DAY

Chris looks bad. His eyes are red, he's unshaven, and he clearly has trouble concentrating. He swallows a couple of pills, chases them down with coffee, and takes the record off the turntable.

CHRIS
And that was side four of Pink Floyd's “The Wall.” Before I continue with... lessee...uh, the complete soundtrack to “Tommy,” I'd like to remind all of you that I will not be taking direct calls. To you well-wishers out there, thanks for the coffee, and this is my fourth day without sleep, my latest attempt to avoid- achieve a higher state of consciousness...although at this point, any consciousness at all is kind of problematic...Ah, sleep, that knitteth up the ravell'dsleeve of care...tired Nature's sweet restorer, gentle sleep...to sleep, no more; and by a sleep to say we end- we end- we...well, Cicely, that's gone, too. Sorry...

Chris looks around vaguely, and his gaze falls on a bunch of Post-It notes stuck to the wall of the booth. He touches one, stares at it, and an IDEA comes to life in his brain.


EXT. THE ROAD OUTSIDE ADAM AND EVE'S CABIN - DAY

Fleischman's truck rattles down the road at eighty mph. It screeches to a halt at the cabin. Joel leaps out and pounds on the door.

JOEL
Adam! Get out here! Adam!

The door opens and ADAM looms out, wearing a vest that holds a baby bottle at chest height. He grabs Joel by his jacket and slams him against a tree, one hand covering his mouth.

ADAM
(Whispering) 
Are you insane, Fleischman? Are you completely demented? Do you know how close you are to waking up little Aubrey? 

Joel ­tries to answer through Adam's ­hand.

ADAM
Shut up. I don't want to know. You'll wake the baby, and for that crime no hole is deep enough to hide you.

He hustles Joel toward the truck, releases him, and then holds up his hand.

ADAM
(Whispering) 
Wait. 
(Listens)
Okay, he's still asleep. Now get lost.

JOEL
(Quiet) 
I've got just one word for you.

ADAM
(Beat) 
Well?

JOEL
Phenylketonuria.

ADAM
What?

JOEL
Phenylketonuria. It's fatal if it's not detected early. But don't worry, I'm sure Aubrey doesn't have it. If he did, Eve would have noticed the symptoms. Right? 'Bye.

Joel moves as if to get into the truck. Adam grabs him.

ADAM
Is this some kind of shakedown, Fleischman? Is that why you're inflicting your ghastly rodent presence on my family unit? 

Joel detaches himself.

JOEL
How about polysomy? Lots of types you can't detect without a gene scan. Know how much­ those run in Fairbanks these days? Then there's early testing for dyslexia, autism, proper neural response. It's very expensive to make sure - perfectly sure - that a child is healthy.

ADAM
(Nervous) 
Get to the point.

JOEL
If Eve asks me if your child is healthy, I can't honestly answer that there's nothing wrong with him. How can I tell, with my witch doctor mumbo jumbo? To be really certain, she should take him to a hospital, one with complete lab facilities. Expensive, of course, but worth it. Don't you agree?

ADAM
Money, Fleischman? A little money doesn't scare me. Eve-

JOEL
Your pre-nuptial says you split ­the cost of child care evenly. Don't you think Eve will hold you to that?

ADAM
(Very pale) 
Ruthlessly. 
(Long pause) 
This is completely unethical.

The silence of victory.

JOEL
I was leaving your cabin when I saw-

ADAM
Yes, yes, Manhattan, I know.

JOEL
You've seen the city! You know it exists!

ADAM
Of course.

JOEL
What is it?

ADAM
How should I know?

JOEL
You mean you've had this...this... miracle sitting outside ­your door and you never even walked over to check it out?

ADAM
How dare you criticize me, you incompetent little exile! For months, you've only left your cabin to pick up your Golfer's Digest and New England Journal of Medicine, and you have the nerve to tell me to be your eyes and ears? 

JOEL
Wait a second, how do you know what magazines I get?

ADAM
I've never liked that congested dung heap anyway. Now ­Soochow is a city. They make a Golden Crispy Duck with Five Flavors Sauce there that is...passable. 
(Turns) 
I just creamed some up for the baby-

JOEL
Yeah? Can I taste- 
(Stops, gathers his wits. Grabs Adam) 
New York. Tell me about New York.

ADAM
(Studying Joel) 
I'd forgotten you're a native. You're actually almost intimidating, ­in a ratlike little way. Okay. ­It started appearing two weeks ago, every morning about ten o'clock if the weather's clear. It lasts a couple of hours and then it's gone. It shows up behind those mountains. 
(He points) 
That's it. 

JOEL
How do I get there?

ADAM
You don't. There's no trail past those mountains, no place to land a plane, either.

JOEL
I'll get Holling to help me.

ADAM
Whatever. Now, if you don't mind- 

He nods to the cabin. 

JOEL
(Abstracted) 
Sure, sure. Thanks.

Joel gets in his truck and drives away. As he leaves, we can hear faint, but clear, the sound of a baby starting to cry.

ADAM
(Near tears) 
Oh no. DADDY'S ­COMING, LITTLE ONE! HOLD ON! SHUT YOUR MOUTH ALREADY, WILL YOU??!!

He gallops clumsily toward the cabin.


EXT. CHRIS'S TRAILER - DAY

Chris wears a headset and talks into a tape recorder as he bustles feverishly around his trailer, tagging all his belongings with signs describing their function and significance. 

CHRIS
(Into the mike)
...I've been thinking really hard about the implications of what I'm doing, and it seems viable. After all, isn't our whole life spent in the making of signs? (Scribbles on a pasteboard) "Joyce, James, Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, archetypal Modernist novel, use of subliminal imagery in the narrative voice, explores Stephen Dedalus' relation to father and impulse to write." Just because I'm reducing my life here to signs, doesn't mean I'm necessarily losing anything. You could even make a case that I'm gaining! After all, isn't it so much easier to move around the sign for a table than it is to move the actual table? (Grabs and scribbles on another piece of cardboard) "Taaable..." And what's more important, the table itself, the Ding an... (he pauses) the Ding an... Ding an...the thing itself, or the meaning we attach to it? You know what Plato would say to that, folks! The world of concepts is the one that is truly real, immutable and--

Ed pulls up in a truck and steps out with a bag of supplies. He looks around at the various bits of art and junk surrounding the trailer, most now carrying signs. Chris takes the bag.

CHRIS
Hey...Ed, how are you? Did you get my drafter's ink?

ED
Yup. What's happening?

CHRIS
Well, you know my little memory problem? These are kind of reminders, little memory joggers, as it were.

ED
Like a string around my finger.

CHRIS
Just right! (Checks in the bags) Everything's here, thanks a lot. C'mon.

He drapes a cardboard sign around Ed's neck, reading "ED CHIGLIAK", and then scuttles back to the trailer. Ed follows.

CHRIS
(As he unpacks the supplies) 
What I've been wondering, you see, is, it's useful, but is it art? I mean, does the fact that it's necessary to me - all the signs, I mean - does that take away from its artistic validity? 

He stops and holds up a book with a big conspicuous sign saying "BOOK!" He stares at it with satisfaction.

CHRIS
Well, it may not be art, but it's sure conceptual! Ceci n'est pas une pipe!


INT. MAURICE'S OFFICE AT K-BHR - DAY

Maurice is working. There is a knock, promptly followed by Joel.

JOEL
Maurice, I'm offering you the opportunity of a lifetime.

MAURICE
Let me ask you this, Fleischman. Is this New York brouhaha some gimmick of yours? Do you think faking a psychotic break is going to shorten the time on your contract? If you do, you're sadly mistaken. I'm just letting you know FYI. Just some friendly advice.

JOEL
So you're not interested in lending me money for the expedition?

MAURICE
WHAT!?

JOEL
Come on, Maurice, don't tell me an entrepreneur like yourself hasn't spotted the possibilities here? We've finally found the Northwest Passage! Why the historic value alone is incalculable. But imagine something else-

He puts his arm around Maurice's shoulder, his other hand stretching out over broad vistas.

JOEL
Imagine the trade possibilities, Maurice. Imagine the tourism. Imagine the boost to Cicely's economy when this virgin wilderness is just half an hour away from the Upper West Side. All those tired, city-crazed lawyers and bankers, looking for the simple life, for elbow room, for trees and vistas...

MAURICE
(Entranced) 
Yeah..

Without taking his arm from Maurice's shoulder, he snags a cigar and lights up.

JOEL
(Hushed, intense) 
Imagine the summer people, Maurice. Cicely could be the next East Hampton! 

MAURICE
Yes! 
(He smells the smoke, snaps back to reality) 
You're good, Fleischman. I never realized just how good. What were your forefathers? Peddlers? You have family in the rag trade?

JOEL
Maurice, I offer you the chance of a lifetime and you give me anti-Semitic slurs?

MAURICE
I apologize, Joel. It's clear to me that you are a little overstrained. Why don't you take a few days off. Go to Fairbanks. Hell, Cicely will even foot the bill, I think that's a fair price to pay for your continued effectiveness.

JOEL
I want money for dog-sleds.

MAURICE
No.

JOEL
I want food and supplies.

MAURICE
No.

JOEL
How about a helicopter?

MAURICE
One week in Fairbanks, all expenses paid. Take it or leave it.

JOEL
I'll see you in Central Park, Maurice. 
(Looks at his cigar) 
These are really foul, you know?

He tosses the stogie to Maurice and exits. 

MAURICE
(Shouting out the door) 
These are Havanas!


EXT. MAIN STREET - CONTINUOUS

Joel exits the K-BHR building and encounters Ed.

ED
How did it go, Dr. Fleischman?

JOEL
Not too well, Ed. Maurice... Well, Maurice is just not a man of vision.

ED
(Nodding) 
Right. Like Anthony Quinn in La Strada.

JOEL
Precisely. 
(A calculating look crosses his face) 
Now, a true man of vision would have snapped up the movie rights to this expedition.

ED
What?

Joel drapes an arm over Ed's shoulders and walks off with him down the street.

JOEL
The movie rights, Ed. You've got an epic documentary here...


INT. THE K-BHR DJ BOOTH - EVENING

Maurice slips a tape cassette into the console, and Chris's voice booms out over the airwaves.

CHRIS'S VOICE
Good evening Cicely. Well, as of six p.m., April 9th, when this tape was made, yours truly was still awake, and still pursuing that...ummm... whatever. I'm out at the trailer right now, taking care of some personal business, but I'm sure you trust me enough...


INT. CHRIS'S TRAILER - EVENING

Chris is filling out more placards by firelight.

CHRIS'S VOICE (VO)
...to know that I wouldn't do anything to weasel out of our agreement, and I'm doing my best to stay awake. I was thinking really hard about the implications of what I'm doing...

Chris's voice on tape begins to repeat what we heard him taping earlier. Chris looks up from the sign he is working on and stares into the fire. He continues to stare, hypnotized. We PULL INTO the fire...


EXT. CHRIS'S VALLEY OF MEMORIES - DAY

A WORKMAN tosses a BLACKBOARD onto a bonfire. The blackboard is covered with equations, including "E=MC2". Chris, as a Sioux, watches with Einstein.

The flames envelope the board. Einstein sobs.

CHRIS
Albert, I'm so sorry.

EINSTEIN
Vhat do you care!? You neffer understood my equations anyway!

CHRIS
You're right. But... 
(uncertain)
…but I knew what you meant...

EINSTEIN
Did you understand how I derived them? NO! Did you understand why C is constant for all frames of reference? NO! 
(Savage) 
"E=MC2"! "E=MC2"! A parrot could "know" that much! Come, Neils.

Einstein leaves, accompanied by NEILS BOHR. 

CHRIS
Heavy.

He looks around. Major destruction. The ground is mud. Steel beams and cement are everywhere. A Worker drags a mannequin with his MONK'S HABIT toward the bonfire.

CHRIS
HEY!!

He runs to the fire, but the Foreman is there before him and leads him gently away.

CHRIS
Why are you doing this? WHY?

FOREMAN
You notice we left your Harley.

CHRIS
What?

FOREMAN
And the West Virginia State Correctional Facility, where you spent your unfortunate incarceration, that's not going anywhere. You see a method to our madness, Stevens?

CHRIS
No.

FOREMAN
(Sighs) 
Of course not.

He strolls on, surveying the work, jotting notes on his clipboard. Chris hurries after him.

CHRIS
You haven't answered my question.

FOREMAN
You asked for enlightenment, didn't you? "Understanding"?

He makes "quotation marks" with his fingers.

CHRIS
So?

FOREMAN
Well, I figure if we can knock this place to pieces, that should enlighten the hell out of you.

CHRIS
How?

FOREMAN
Get rid of all this garbage cluttering up the place. Your brain needs a good airing out. Hell, you got lucky, Stevens. You just stood out there and opened yourself up to whatever was passing by. You could have ended up with a lot worse than me, believe me. A lot worse.

CHRIS
But I'm losing everything...

FOREMAN
(Turns on him, angry) 
You know, I just can't figure you New Age panty-waist psalm-singers! You talk and you talk about "revelation" and "spiritual growth," but when you've got to put something on the line, where are you? You think enlightenment is free? You think they stock it at Von's? I've got a flash for you, Stevens. You buy it with pain. That's why they call it "sacrifice". You think those medieval saints sat on pillars in the desert forty years for their health? Same thing goes for any kind of understanding. You don't just pick up a book and "know" quantum mechanics. All you get is a bunch of half-digested paradigms.

CHRIS
You win! You win! Just let me be the way I was before!
FOREMAN
Well, but then there's your other debt.

CHRIS
What?

FOREMAN
You believe in spirits, Stevens? Indian gods? Because if you did, don't you think they might be a little angry, being invoked by a White Man? Now, personally, I like Schrödinger - so it follows I could be either a spirit with objective reality, or a psychological manifestation of your Unconscious guilt at the historical treatment of the Amerind by the European. You pays your money and you takes your chances.

CHRIS
I...understand.

FOREMAN
Do you? Then how come you were dressed like Crazy Horse...Mr. Wayne?

Chris looks down at himself to see that he is now dressed like John Wayne - ten-gallon hat, pearl-handled pistols, etc.


EXT. MAIN STREET - DAY

Maurice passes a flyer advertising "Join THE GREAT NORTHWEST PASSAGE EXPEDITION!! For more information, contact DR. JOEL FLEISCHMAN!!!" Maurice grunts.

He passes K-BHR, and sees another poster stuck up on the door. He snarls and tears it down.

As Maurice passes the building he sees Ed Chigliak. Ed is holding up a roll of tickets.

ED
Getcher tickets here! Send Dr. Fleischman to New York, or...GO YOURSELF!!

MAURICE
You, too, Ed?

ED
Hi, Maurice!

MAURICE
Ed. Ed. Has that weaselly little pencil-neck corrupted you, too?

ED
(Brightly) 
He's given me the movie rights! It's going to be the next Fitzcarraldo!

MAURICE
This has gone far enough!

He stomps into the radio station.


INT. RUTH-ANNE'S STORE - TEN MINUTES LATER

Ruth-Anne is making change for Maggie. The radio is tuned to K-BHR. 

CHRIS'S VOICE
...and have we really thought about the nature of Memory? After all, dolphins get along just fine, and there's no evidence that they're a time-binding-

Chris's voice is cut off with a vicious SQUEAL of snapping magnetic tape, and Maurice comes on.

MAURICE (VO)
Attention, Cicely, Maurice Minnefield here.


INT. THE K-BHR DJ BOOTH - CONTINUOUS

Maurice is at the mike. He tosses Chris's tape onto the floor. 

MAURICE
With my best DJ currently off the air with the galloping whim-whams, and half of this town apparently listening to the ravings of a near-sighted manic-depressive bonesetter intent on following Prester John into oblivion, a lesser man than myself might simply have assumed that the Final Revelation was at hand, pulled up his tent stakes, and retired to Pebble Beach. But not this American hero.


INT. THE BRICK - CONTINUOUS

Shelley, Holling, and the Patrons listen open-mouthed.

MAURICE (VO)
Apparently, some of my fellow citizens don't believe in value for money. Having paid for this high-priced New York quack with their hard-earned tax dollars, they are now willing to let him go traipsing off on a jaunt that will at best make the entire town look foolish, and at worst force us to get another medico over here A.S.A.P. to take care of the one we broke!


INT. K-BHR DJ BOOTH - CONTINUOUS

MAURICE
Thank God there is one citizen of this town who is not afraid to take action! Just to bring the rest of you back to your senses, I am announcing the Minnefield Trade Embargo - any one of you I find helping Joel Fleischman in his "New York Expedition" in any way, from this point on, is not welcome in my house. On my property. In my employ. Those of you who are tenants, customers, or just plain admirers of yours truly had better give some serious thought to this. And remember, I'm doing it for your own good. (Beat) We now return you to...(he scrabbles around among the records, picks Die Walkurie) a bunch of mezzos screeching in German.

The music begins to play and Maurice exits.


INT. JOEL'S OFFICE - DAY

Joel is buried in army survey maps, survival manuals, and camera equipment. There's a knock; Maggie is standing in the doorway.

MAGGIE
I don't know if you heard, Fleischman, but Maurice just went completely gonzo about you over the air.

JOEL
That doesn't surprise me. He thinks I challenged him. An Adlerian would have a field day with Maurice.

MAGGIE
He said anybody helping you was essentially not welcome in Cicely.

JOEL
Wow, that must be some problem for you, O'Connell. I mean, now you have to decide who you dislike more, me or him.

MAGGIE
Oh, come on outside, Fleischman.

Maggie walks out. Joel follows her.


EXT. MAIN STREET, OUTSIDE OF JOEL'S OFFICE - DAY

Joel and Maggie step out to face a large crowd of people - maybe most of Cicely.

MARILYN
We've got things to give you. For your trip.

JOEL
(Touched) 
Thank you, Marilyn.

Marilyn hands him a knitted blanket. Holling walks up.

MARILYN
We still think you're crazy.

JOEL
Right.

HOLLING
For the cold.

He hands Joel a bottle of whiskey.

JOEL
Thanks, Holling.

Holling steps back. A big group of the other CICELIANS stare at what they have in their hands - booze, of course - turn, and walk away. 

Ruth-Anne walks up with a camera.

RUTH-ANNE
Ed told me you had some trouble with yours. Give it back when you're through.

JOEL
Thank you.

In the distance, we can hear somebody yelling.

DISTANT VOICE 
OUT OF MY WAY!! COMING THROUGH!! CAN'T YOU MOVE YOUR FEET, YOU CLODS?

Adam emerges and thrusts a thermos into Joel's hands.

ADAM
That's vichyssoise. Eat it as soon as you open it, before it has a chance to cool.

JOEL
But...but vichyssoise is cold potato soup, Adam, I-

ADAM
Oh, so now we're throwing back other people's gifts in their faces, are we? Some of us NON-barbarians know THAT VICHYSSOISE CANNOT BE EATEN IF ITS TEMPERATURE DROPS BELOW THIRTY-NINE DEGREES! INGRATE!!!

Adam stalks off. Maggie emerges from the back of the crowd, leading a despicably handsome MAN behind her.

JOEL
Who's this?

MAGGIE
This, Fleischman, is the pièce de resistance. John is a helicopter pilot, and he owes me a favor.

Joel and John shake hands.

JOEL
O'Connell, I'm touched. I mean it, I'm really touched.

MAGGIE
Well, I thought about all things I'd been saying about you to everybody? And I realized it was kind of cruel of me to make fun of someone's desire to go home. Even if that person was plainly irrational.

JOEL
Right. (Beat) So, John...how many skeptics can your chopper hold?

Ed comes running down Main Street.

ED
Maurice is coming! Maurice is coming!

The crowd murmurs. As Maurice approaches, they shuffle behind Joel.

We see the drama from Ed's POV. Maurice and Joel face off in the middle of the street. Their faces go cold; their hands drop to their sides; their eyes go squinty and mean as a tumbleweed blows through the street. 

MAURICE
You still going?

JOEL
Yup.

MAURICE
Uh-hum. 
(To the crowd) 
None of you are off the hook, you know.

Long pause. The tension grows.

JOEL
Maurice.

MAURICE
Yeah?

JOEL
(Holding up the thermos) 
Vichyssoise?

Maurice surveys the crowd. They gaze sullenly back. Perhaps he realizes he may have pushed them too far.

MAURICE
I...I don't mind if I do.

The crowd CHEERS and surges around the two of them. As they head down the street-

MAURICE
You got any parsley for this?


EXT. CHRIS'S TRAILER - DAY

Chris has almost finished his memory project. Every single thing on his lot is tagged: all of his sculptures, the trailer itself, some of the trees, the furniture, everything. It is A GIANT FOREST OF SIGNS.

Chris looks terrible. He is so tired things are surreal: His breathing is loud in his ears, things move slowly around him, etc. 

He is just putting the last big placard on a sculpture when he sees Maurice approaching through the junk in slow motion. But it isn't Maurice. It's the Foreman.

CHRIS
But I'm awake...


INT. CHRIS'S TRAILER - NIGHT

And Chris snaps upright in bed in his dark trailer.

CHRIS
Man, that was a bad one.

There's a KNOCK on the door.

CHRIS
Come in.

The door opens, flooding the trailer with light. It's the Foreman. Chris looks down at himself - he's a Cheyenne again. He sags in despair, but the Foreman actually looks friendly.

FOREMAN
Want to see the finished project?

CHRIS
Okay.


EXT. CHRIS'S VALLEY OF MEMORIES - DAY

The Foreman leads Chris outside. It's the same valley, but pristine. No construction, no mud, no bookcases, no Animatronic geniuses, no icons of Chris's life. Just trees, grass, a stream. Somewhere, a bird CHIRPS.

CHRIS
Where's the mud? Where's the girders and the bulldozers?

FOREMAN
We don't need them anymore. This is the final product.

CHRIS
It's...beautiful.

The Foreman looks around with satisfaction.

FOREMAN
I do good work. Here.

He hands Chris his clipboard.

CHRIS
What's this for?

FOREMAN
You've got to sign off on this.

CHRIS
What if I don't?

FOREMAN
(Shrugs) 
I'll have to cancel the order. Yeah, that's right. If you want, you can have all your old stuff back again. Every last thing. It'll be just like the way it was before. Or...

CHRIS
Or?

FOREMAN
(Offering his hand to Chris) 
You can have faith.

Slowly, Chris puts his hand in the Foreman's. A hawk SCREAMS. Chris has found his spirit beast.

JOEL VO
CHRIS! CHRIS!


EXT. A MOUNTAIN PASS - DAY

Chris looks away from the bird to find that he is in a mountain pass. The hawk is gone. Joel approaches on foot. Behind Joel is a small crowd of CICELIANS.

JOEL
Chris, how did you get here? We were looking all over for you at the town! Are you okay?

CHRIS
Where am I?

JOEL
You're in Rivas Pass. Didn't you know? Are you all right?

CHRIS
Yeah...I think I am.

JOEL
Come on with us. We're going to see New York.

They walk down the slope to join the others.


EXT. A GLACIER MOUNTAIN LAKE - TEN MINUTES LATER

The Cicelians come over the pass and down into the lake valley. Then they stand silent, in awe.

Across the lake, a river pours in a waterfall down a glacier. In the clouds above the waterfall, clear as day, (well, as clear as a cloudy day) we can see MANHATTAN (as a MATTE SHOT).

PAN slowly across the awe-struck faces of Maggie, Ruth-Anne, Holling, and the others, to Joel, looking at the skyline with longing.

Chris stands to one side, smiling in uncomplicated wonder. Someone comes up behind him. It is the Foreman.

CHRIS
I thought you were gone.

FOREMAN
On my way, on my way.

CHRIS
Did you do that?

FOREMAN
Naw. Too flashy for us. That's just Nature and Coincidence.

CHRIS
But it's a miracle.

FOREMAN
So are you. One-in-a-million chance. Sperm, egg, Circumstance, all that. Everything's a miracle. Say what you want about Fleischman, but he understands that. 
(Smiles) 
Good-bye.

CHRIS
Good-bye...and thanks.

The Foreman waves and walks toward the Cicelians.

CUT TO Joel, who is gazing at the skyline with bittersweet joy. He actually has his arm around Maggie, who is leaning on his shoulder.

The Foreman walks quietly behind Joel and holds out a SOFT PRETZEL in front of him. Joel grabs and bites into it. Perfect.

JOEL
This is incredible. Where's the mustard-

He turns around, but there's no one there. We hear the SCREAM OF A HAWK, and Joel and the others look up to see the HAWK circling above them, and then flying away.


EXT. JOEL'S PORCH - LATE AFTERNOON

Joel is sitting on the porch, staring out into the twilight. Maggie comes up the road and joins him on the porch.

MAGGIE
Hey, Fleischman.

JOEL
Hey.

MAGGIE
I thought you'd be up at the glacier.

JOEL
No. That cold front they were having in New York broke up this morning, and the view from the glacier faded out. I guess whatever weather conditions there were reflecting the view...

MAGGIE
Went away.

JOEL
Right.

Silence.

MAGGIE
I'm sorry.

JOEL
(Shrugs) 
It was fun while it lasted.

MAGGIE
You know, I've only been to New York once, and that was to change planes. I always wanted to spend some time there. What's it like?

JOEL
(Slowly at first, then warming to his task) 
Well, you've got to start with the West Side, no question. Save the tourist stuff for later on. First three days, you start out on Broadway, Columbus. Central Park is key. And the Metropolitan...


INT. THE K-BHR DJ BOOTH - DAY

Chris is at the mike. He looks a thousand times better, completely refreshed.

CHRIS
...and I'd like to thank you all for the letters and postcards you've sent in the past week or so. To Jane in Moose Jaw, thanks, but I don't need the name of your analyst, although I'm sure the Freudian approach still holds merit. To Tom in Tetchawa, sorry to hear about your accident with the Enfield, but my attorney informs me I am protected by the First Amendment. To Sister Margaret of the Sacred Heart in Fairbanks, I'm sure Kant's Categorical Imperative would apply even to perfectly spiritual beings, otherwise it wouldn't be categorical.


INT. ED'S TRAILER - CONTINUOUS

As Chris continues to speak, we CUT to Ed running his expedition footage through his editing screen, so we see again Joel and Maggie, Maurice, the townspeople, Chris...

CHRIS (VO)
...and for all the rest of you concerned about my ramble in aphasia, it's been remarkable. The air smells sweeter. Food tastes better. And when I read the books I love, I'm reading them again for the first time. I've been given this gift, experiencing the world directly for the first time in a long while, losing, just for a moment, that cage of words we build for ourselves to shelter from the world. As Ursula LeGuin wrote, "Only in silence the word, only in darkness the light, only in dying, life..."

And we see the final image on Ed's movieola, the circling HAWK-

CHRIS (VO)
"...bright the hawk's flight on the empty sky..."

And we






FADE OUT



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