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EXCERPT FROM
THROUGH THE VEIL
__________________________
A Screenplay
By
Stephen Bittrich
Copyright © 1996, by Stephen Bittrich.
Registered with the Writer's Guild of America, East
PLEASE NOTE: Do not use without permission.
Revised Draft July, 1996.
Stephen Bittrich
459 Columbus Avenue, #240
New York, NY 10024
Cell: (646) 245-4507
E-mail: SBittrich@aol.com
FROM "THROUGH THE VEIL"
BY STEPHEN BITTRICH
FADE IN:
INT. A WHITE ROOM - DAY
All that can be seen is the face, the pale, haggard face of
DARREN NOLAND, thirty-two. His hair is extremely short, and his
lips are dry and cracked. His head is set against a glaring
white background. There is a notable, stark silence before
the VOICE OVER of Darren begins.
DARREN (V.O.)
(quietly)
I don't listen--can't listen--to what
they say.
(beat)
She is here...by my side. Right here.
(beat)
Quiet only. She's just quiet.
(beat)
No hands, no arms. My tongue is not my
own. Now I speak their words--the ones
they want to hear. But I keep her. I
keep her. Inside.
(beat)
What happened, the truth, is waiting...in
my brain. Someday...they'll give me back
my tongue. Then I'll write it down. But
for now...I must remember...I must keep
clear. I must remember everything.
The whiteness snaps to blackness as the BANG of an IRON DOOR
SLAMMING echoes in our ears.
EXT. TERESA KINDER'S HOUSE AND SURROUNDING LAND - NIGHT
The moon is full in the Texas hill country about thirty miles
northeast of San Antonio. It is a warm night on May twenty-
seventh--one year earlier than the opening. The locusts are
BUZZING. The NIGHT CREATURES scurry about the rough terrain.
We see the two-story house belonging to Teresa Kinder. A
blood-curdling SCREAM RESOUNDS as a raccoon looks up.
Soon, quiet again as the creatures continue about their
business.
EXT. ON A ROAD AROUND CANYON LAKE AREA (HIGHWAY #306) - DAY
It is the next morning just after dawn along a hilly road
flanked by huge rocks (about thirty feet high) on either
side.
A deserted car is haphazardly parked to the side of the road,
a sports car. The door is open, and the keys are in it.
We travel up the rock. The top of the rock has some area,
but actually overlooks, on the opposite side, another small
bluff. And on that opposite edge, an easel and canvas are
precariously set.
We move past the easel to expose the other steep drop-off at
the base of which lies a young woman, TERESA KINDER, her body
face down and motionless on the rocks. The rugged surface is
a canvas for her red, red blood, which has spilled generously
from a recent wound. Squashed tubes of bright paint have
followed her over the edge, and the pigment mixes with the
blood on the rock, on her delicate fingers, and on her
soiled, white dress.
We return to the all but finished painting of the landscape--
in the corner, a small, careful signature: "TERESA."
EXT. THE HIGHWAY - DAY
Back on the road, a highway patrol car pulls slowly by the
deserted vehicle.
EXT. ATOP THE SMALL CLIFF - DAY
Hours later, we see SHERIFF SCHULTZ, a large, gruff-looking
man in his mid-fifties, peering down at the body below. His
shirt is drenched with perspiration, and he wipes his
massive, sweaty brow with a white handkerchief.
There are two deputies, DANNY and RICKY, down by the corpse
taking measurements and making a general survey of the area.
Schultz shakes his head--what a waste. He spits a big wad of
tobacco juice on the ground.
EXT. TERESA KINDER'S HOUSE - DAY
The same house as before on a hot June day, weeks later.
We see a pond out in back of the house. There is a small,
rickety dock jutting from the bank out into the water.
INT. TERESA'S LIVING ROOM - DAY
The spacious living room of the deceased, TERESA KINDER, is
simply and tastefully decorated, and, in one corner, three
moving boxes are stacked inside one another.
On the mantle, we see a framed photograph of a young woman of
twenty-seven, TERESA, and another woman of fifty, MRS.
KINDER. Both of the women are quite attractive and seem,
from their stoic poses, to be a little distant.
The VOICE OF MRS. GIBBS can be heard from the kitchen.
MRS. GIBBS (O.S.)
All the cutlery will need ta be packed up
sepret cuz Mrs. Kinder said she's gonna
send it straight on to Teresa's sister in
Oregon. She's gettin' married next
month. One life begins, while
another...oh well, come on this way.
Darren and MRS. GIBBS, a portly, weathered woman of fifty-
eight, enter the living room. Mrs. Gibbs fans herself with a
folded piece of paper. Darren is different in appearance
than from the first scene. He looks healthly and has longer
locks. He seems a bit detached.
MRS. GIBBS
(continuing)
And this wuz the livin' room. She didn't
have no air condishunin', but that fan
works good.
She points to the ceiling fan.
MRS. GIBBS
(continuing)
It ain't as hot out here in the evenin's.
You get a real nice breeze coming
through. You might oughtta thank 'bout
workin' after five er so.
DARREN
Yes, ma'am.
MRS. GIBBS
There's quite a colleckshun of glass from
It'ly or Venice that'll need special care
when yer packin' it up. I spoke ta Billy
Vanderhoof, who owns the Pottery
Warehouse offa North 410 and Bandera in
San Antonia--he's got a lot a mail order
customers. Anyway, he said you kin go
over there any time and git some a that
packin' stuff. Jist tell him who ya'are,
from Teresa's house, and he'll fix ya up
with as much as ya need.
DARREN
Okay.
MRS. GIBBS
He sure adored Teresa, I kin tell you
that. Kin you thanka any problems so
far?
DARREN
No, ma'am, can't think of any.
MRS. GIBBS
(whispering)
Ya don' have ta worry 'bout runnin' inta
any, uh, feminine 'coutrements, cuz I
takin' care a them already an' sent 'um
up ta Mrs. Kinder ahead.
DARREN
Oh...good. Thanks.
MRS. GIBBS
Yes sir, this house has been hummin' with
activity ever since she died, what with
the funeral an' all. They buried 'er
down in these parts. Mrs. Kinder weren't
none too happy with it, but her sister
said it was right.
(whispering)
I guess I got my two cents worth in too.
(normal voice)
It was right to lay her ta rest in Texas.
Just look at them paintings she done and
youda known'd it was right.
Mrs. Gibbs picks up a small glass animal from the coffee
table.
MRS. GIBBS
(continuing)
Yep. It's a real shame. I met her mama
first when she cum down here an' hired me
ta run the houses she owns. She rents
'em out, see.
(whispering)
I tell you, that woman don't have a
carin' bone in her body. You know how
you kin tell that about someone right
off?
DARREN
(affirmative)
Uh huh.
MRS. GIBBS
Well, Teresa moved down here pritty soon
after I started. You could tell her mama
weren't too happy with Teresa livin' in
Texas. She wanted her ta stay in
Loosiana an' be in the family business.
Newpapers and publishin'.
DARREN
Yeah.
MRS. GIBBS
She got herself stuck on this--
(whispering)
--Mescun--
(regular voice)
--an' she come down here to be with him.
Sposed ta be her fiance, but I don' thank
she ever woulda married 'im. Anyway, her
mama give her one a the rent houses jes'
the same. Couldn't have her lil' girl
livin' inna trailer now, could she?
Kinders don't do that.
DARREN
It's a nice place.
MRS. GIBBS
No siree, tain't good for the family
image. But I tell you--that girl didn't
give a damn--and you'll scuse ma
langwage. She had a minda her own.
Nobody tol' her what ta do. That Mescun
boy tried to, an' she tol' him where ta
go!
(cackling playfully)
She tol' me everthang. I used ta come
over here, an' she'd tell me the whole
story.
(beat; sadly)
She was free, and wadn't nobody gonna
hol' her down...ceptin' the good Lord.
Darren is entranced by the picture of Teresa and her mother
on the mantle.
MRS. GIBBS
(continuing)
That's her. That's Teresa. And that's
her mama.
DARREN
I know her mother. I never met Teresa.
MRS. GIBBS
Pretty like an angel. They jes' didn't
do her justice over't the Stadtmueller
Mortuary. Her face got all smashed up
when she...when she...
DARREN
I read about it.
MRS. GIBBS
(after a beat)
You's some kinda writer, ain't that
right?
DARREN
Yes, ma'am. Some kinda writer.
MRS. GIBBS
Write for the Express paper?
DARREN
Whenever I can.
MRS. GIBBS
Now, how you know Mrs. Kinder?
DARREN
I used to work for her paper in Baton
Rouge.
MRS. GIBBS
Oh.
(beat)
And she knew you were here in Texas and
hired you to move Teresa's stuff?
DARREN
(perturbed)
Yeah.
MRS. GIBBS
Well, if ya need any hep, such as with
the heavier stuff...well, it's yer money
an' yer back, but ma boy Jimmy'd be more
than willin' ta hire out for a couple a
hours.
DARREN
Okay. Thanks.
MRS. GIBBS
Shouldn't take you all that long ta pack
all this up. Couple a weeks prob'ly.
You makin' the drive ta Baton Rouge
straight through?
DARREN
That's what they tell me.
MRS. GIBBS
Yep.
(beat)
Well, jes' give us a holler. We ain't
that far away.
EXT. TERESA'S HOUSE AND LAND - NIGHT
That night, we see a scene reminiscent of the first "Teresa's
house" exterior: half moon (now), rugged hill country,
LOCUST SOUNDS, NIGHT CREATURES scurrying about.
INT. TERESA'S KITCHEN - NIGHT
Darren pours himself some tea and begins to survey the job at
hand.
INT. THE SAME - NIGHT
About an hour later. Darren packs dishes carefully into
boxes.
INT. TERESA'S PAINTING STUDIO - NIGHT
Darren switches on the light to Teresa's painting studio. He
finds a batch of canvases stacked against the wall and thumbs
through them.
INT. THE HALLWAY TO THE ATTIC - NIGHT
In the hallway, Darren discovers the entrance hatch to the
attic. He pulls on the string dangling from the hatch, and
the ladder comes crashing down. The spring on the hinges
seems to be completely shot judging from the way it has
fallen down. Darren tests the ladder warily and climbs up
into the attic.
INT. TERESA'S ATTIC - NIGHT
Darren looks around the homey, inviting attic. He sees an
easel and a stool, an old, dusty trunk, a wooden rocking
chair, and some canvases--some oil, some watercolor of the
Texas hill country. Then he turns around and sees an oil
painting of a reclining woman, half nude: Teresa. The eyes
invite. Darren is breathless. He moves slowly to the
rocking chair--fixated by the portrait as he moves. He
begins to rock.
We see again the portrait of Teresa.
INT. AND EXT. DREAM SEQUENCE - NIGHT
Darren dreams of TERESA though we don't know it's a dream
immediately. He sees a series of sequences. Teresa standing
by the mantle in the LIVING ROOM screaming at someone.
Teresa falling to the floor with a thud. Teresa's body lying
ON THE ROCKS. Teresa again screaming AT THE MANTLE. Teresa
being struck in the head. Teresa's body lying ON THE ROCKS.
Then Teresa IN THE ATTIC, leaning toward us in the rocking
chair. She reaches out her hand as if to wake us and says--
TERESA
Darren.
INT. TERESA'S ATTIC - DAY
Darren wakes with a start. He finds himself on the floor of
the attic. It is the next morning. He looks warily around
the room. Nobody around.
INT. TERESA'S KITCHEN - DAY
Darren makes himself some coffee. He's got a few cricks in
his neck.
EXT. THE BACK PATIO - DAY
Darren steps out onto the back patio with his coffee. He
looks down the hill at the pond.
EXT. THE POND - DAY
Darren is out on the rickety dock with a stick, testing for
depth. The morning sun is already potently hot. He skips a
rock off the surface.
He looks up at the house. A curtain moves in the attic. He
starts walking briskly up to the house.
INT. BACK PATIO DOOR - DAY
Darren enters with purpose--heading toward the attic.
INT. TERESA'S HALLWAY - DAY
Darren pulls down the ladder.
INT. TERESA'S ATTIC - DAY
Darren comes up the ladder. He looks around. No one there.
INT. TERESA'S BEDROOM - DAY
Hours later, Darren is sitting at Teresa's writing desk,
packing up some of her books. He looks through some of the
titles--a lot of art books, philosophy. He notices two
pieces of a torn photograph in the wastepaper basket. He
picks out the pieces which were once a whole. One half of
the picture is of Teresa and the other half of an hispanic
man in his thirties. He puts the pieces aside on her desk.
The next book in the pile is a yearbook from a high school in
Louisiana. Darren looks through, shaking his head cynically.
INT. TERESA'S LIVING ROOM - DAY
Darren is going through Teresa's cd collection. The fan is
on high speed above. He appears pleased with her taste:
Beatles, old Motown, Willy Nelson, jazz, classical. He pulls
out a record to put on.
INT. TERESA'S HALLWAY - DAY
A poplular country-western tune from the likes of Willy
Nelson or Candy Land and the Goolacks is playing in the
background as Trey passes by the attic entrance. He is on
his way to the front of the house with a heavy box, but he
puts it down and decides to go up for a bit.
INT. TERESA'S ATTIC - DAY
Darren enters the muggy attic and migrates instantly to the
painting of Teresa. He gets a sudden urge to go through the
old trunk. Upon prying it open, he finds several bound and
dated books--Teresa's diaries.
DARREN
(muttering)
Oh yeah.
He opens one which has on the front the most recent date,
i.e. "January, 1996 through ____________." The later date
has not yet been filled in. It is the most recent
installment. He carefully opens the book, and--
--the phone RINGS downstairs.
INT. TERESA'S HALLWAY - DAY
He stumbles down the ladder almost killing himself as it
wobbles terribly from side to side. This ladder needs
fixing.
INT. TERESA'S KITCHEN - DAY
Darren makes a dash for the phone--
DARREN
Yeah? Uh, Kinder--Kinder residence.
(beat)
Hey.
(beat)
Okay. See you tomorrow.
(beat)
No, I can't.
(beat)
I'm working.
(beat)
I said I'm busy. I'll see you tomorrow
night, okay?
(beat)
Okay. Bye.
INT. TERESA'S ATTIC - NIGHT
That evening, Darren is sitting back in the big rocker with
his feet propped up on the trunk. He's found a small
oscillating fan which is set up in the corner. He is reading
one of the diaries with great interest and looks up from the
book over to the portrait of Teresa. It seems to breathe.
INT. THE SAME - NIGHT
Several hours later, Darren is writing on a MacIntosh lap top
computer. He's writing with the steady clip of one who is on
a roll. The SOUND OF AN AUTOMOBILE can be heard coming up
the drive.
EXT. THE FRONT PORCH AND THE GRAVEL DRIVEWAY - NIGHT
The front porch light snaps on, and the vehicle comes to an
abrupt stop, whirls around, and speeds away. Darren steps
out the front door. He can't make anything out exactly.
INT. TERESA'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Late into that night Darren sleeps on the living room couch.
He is covered up by a light cotton quilt--sweating--tossing--
turning. The ceiling fan is cut off. Darren wakes with a
start. The steady TICKING OF A CLOCK can be heard.
Darren looks toward the adjoining room, the dining room.
There is a WOMAN DRESSED IN WHITE (Teresa) sitting at the
table. A sudden, strong wind blows through the curtains
behind Darren. He turns to look at the billowy curtains, and
when he turns back to the woman, she is gone. He gets up to
investigate.
EXT. THE POND - DAY
The morning sun glares down on a plodding ARMADILLO. The
animal is startled by the sound of Darren diving off the dock
into the pond.
Darren splashes and frolics with the uninhibitedness of one
who is completely alone...only...he is not alone. The strong
VOICE OF GEORGE RIVERA echoes across the pond--
RIVERA (O.S.)
We have found snakes in there.
Darren flails the water in surprise.
DARREN
Jesus!
The sun hits his eyes as he squints toward the silhouette on
the dock.
DARREN
(continuing)
Who is that?
RIVERA
I wouldn't recommend this pond for
swimming. There are a few others on this
property, further out back, which are a
little cleaner.
DARREN
Yeah?
RIVERA
George Rivera.
GEORGE RIVERA is a well-spoken, young Mexican man in his
early thirties--respectable looking, but a little on edge.
DARREN
The boyfriend.
RIVERA
Fiance.
DARREN
Sorry.
RIVERA
I think this pond was used as a septic
tank from time to time when the real one
over-flowed. It's not very sanitary.
(beat)
Besides...people have been known to run
into water moccasins--sometimes rattlers-
-in this area.
DARREN
Yeah?
Darren indicates the towel on the dock.
DARREN
(continuing)
Would you mind, uh--?
RIVERA
Of course.
Rivera hands the towel down to Darren--towering over him.
Darren grabs it and climbs the wooden ladder up onto the
dock.
RIVERA
(continuing)
I would especially discourage skinny
dipping. Wouldn't want to tempt fate. I
knew a man who was rendered impotent when
he was bitten in the cahones. It was
very painful I understand.
DARREN
I'll bet.
RIVERA
So you're the packing guy?
DARREN
Yeah.
RIVERA
They paying you well?
DARREN
Well enough, I guess.
RIVERA
Don't you have a real job?
DARREN
From what I'm told, not until this is
finished.
RIVERA
Oh, I thought you worked for the Express
paper--a writer or something.
DARREN
Yeah, writer and general errand boy.
RIVERA
(after a beat)
Is that your convertible out front?
DARREN
Yeah.
RIVERA
Nice car.
(beat)
You just started today?
DARREN
No, a couple of days ago. I stayed out
here last night--it's a good hour and a
half from my apartment--other side of San
Antonio--
RIVERA
I see. You're staying out here.
DARREN
Yep.
(after an uncomfortable pause)
Did you want to come inside?
RIVERA
No.
DARREN
Was there something you wanted?
END OF EXCERPT FOR THROUGH THE VEIL. E-mail any questions or comments to: SBittrich@aol.com