Unwell Season 3/Episode 5 - Hark

by Jessica Best


Merry Christmas.

What day is it?

Merry Christmas

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Listen to the episode here

Content Advisories for this episode can be found here.

Support Unwell and HartLife NFP on Patreon at www.patreon.com/hartlifenfp

This episode features: Marsha Harman as Dot, Symphony Sanders as Young Lily, Kathleen Hoil as Abbie, Michael Turrentine as Wes, Bilal Dardai as Sheriff Joshi

Written by Jessica Best, sound design by Ryan Schile, directed by Jeffrey Nils Gardner, theme music composed by Stephen Poon, recording engineer Mel Ruder, associate producer TH Ponders, Theme performed by Stephen Poon, Lauren Kelly, Gunnar Jebsen, Travis Elfers, Mel Ruder, and Betsey Palmer, Unwell lead sound designer Eli Hamada McIlveen, Executive Producers Eleanor Hyde and Jeffrey Nils Gardner, by HartLife NFP.

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TAPE FAST FORWARDS AND REWINDS. SOMEONE IS SEARCHING FOR SOMETHING.
WE HEAR SOME OF DOT’S VOICE, SOME SINGING, AND THEN:


A FIREPLACE CRACKLES COZILY.

DOT: Ooh, open this one next, Lily!

YOUNG LILY: I was saving it for last.

DOT: Eleven is way too young to believe in delayed gratification.

C’mon, open it!

FX: PAPER IS GINGERLY

REMOVED.

DOT: Not like that! Tear into it! Rip it to shreds!

YOUNG LILY: (LAUGHING) Mom…what if you wanna save the paper?

DOT: To Hell with the paper! It’s Christmas morning in America,

let’s have some carnage!

FX: PAPER IS RIPPED OFF WITH

GUSTO AND TOSSED ASIDE

DOT: That’s the ticket! You’re a lion and it’s a delicious

wildebeest! Rend that sucker in twain! Taste those entrails!

YOUNG LILY: (ROARS)

DOT: That’s the goddamn spirit!

YOUNG LILY: Don’t swear , Mom.

DOT: Why the shit not?

YOUNG LILY: It’s--weird.

DOT: Lilybelle, it’s time you knew. Your mother is a certified

genuine Class A weirdo.

YOUNG LILY: You didn’t used to.

DOT: People didn’t used to give their kids anything but a sock full

of oranges for Christmas, who cares about used to? Now

let’s--

YOUNG LILY: You only started when you and Dad-- (REALIZING SHE’S

SAID MORE THAN SHE WANTED TO). I mean--

DOT: It’s okay, Lily, it’s okay.

YOUNG LILY: (DUBIOUS) Mom...

DOT: Fine, you’re right, but it’s gonna be eventually, if we just--

YOUNG LILY: When.

DOT: I don’t know.

But until then, I say we fake it ‘til we make it. Now. I believe

we had a wildebeest carcass to devour?

PAPER RIPS AND IS THROWN

ASIDE.

DOT: There we go. Ta-da!

YOUNG LILY: It’s...a vaccuum cleaner.

DOT: Not just any vaccum cleaner. That’s a Brock Halford Extra

Horsepower Turbo Cyclone Five. The machine that sucks.

YOUNG LILY: Mom.

DOT: Any kind of surface, Lills, dust is history. Carpet, bam.

Hardwood, bam. Tile, bam. Pizza, okay who I am to

judge--

YOUNG LILY: Mom.

DOT: Just, a very dusty old pizza--

YOUNG LILY: Mom!

DOT: Lillian. Open the box.

A CARDBOARD BOX IS OPENED.

FISTFULS OF OLD NEWSPAPERS

ARE THROWN ASIDE.

YOUNG LILY: Oh my gosh!

DOT: Did I get the right one?

YOUNG LILY: It’s perfect! Oh my gosh, I love it! Does it come with tapes?

DOT: Keep digging.

RUMMAGING, WADS OF

NEWSPAPER PUSHED ASIDE .

YOUNG LILY: Yes.

CELLOPHANE IS RIPPED OFF A

PACKAGE OF TAPES. A TAPE IS

REMOVED AND POPPED INTO A

BOOMBOX.

A BUTTON IS PRESSED.

YOUNG LILY: Live from Mount Absalom Ohio, it’s the Lily Harper show!

A BUTTON IS PRESSED,

REWINDING SOUNDS

A BUTTON IS PRESSED.

YOUNG LILY (RECORDING): Live from Mount Absalom Ohio, it’s the Lily Harper show!

YOUNG LILY: Awesome.

DOT: Y’know, you’re getting to an age where, when you said you

wanted a boombox, I assumed you’d be blaring punk

music into the night until all the local old-timers started

shitting themselves.

YOUNG LILY: Mom.

DOT: I assumed, and I approved. Never trust anyone over thirty,

Lily.

YOUNG LILY: Shh!

A BUTTON IS PRESSED.

Starring me, Lily Harper! Also starring the Dorothy Harper

singers! Take it away!

(PAUSE)

Take it away!

DOT: (SOLEMNLY, TO THE TUNE OF ‘WE THREE KINGS’)

We three kings of Ohio art

Tried to make some art using farts

It was classy and so gassy--

YOUNG LILY: (ON THE VERGE OF LAUGHTER) Mom, sing it right !

DOT: Ah, ah, she’s about to laugh, audience--

YOUNG LILY: (VERGE OF LAUGHTER) No I’m not, audience, I--

DOT: Audience, I don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling, but

that’s definitely a smile!

YOUNG LILY: (VERGE OF LAUGHTER) I’m frowning, I’m frowning !

DOT: One hundred percent a smile. (A BEAT) Faaaarts!

YOUNG LILY: (CRACKS UP)

DOT: (TO THE TUNE OF ‘CAROL OF THE BELLS’)

Farts, how they smell!

Oh how they smell!

Run far away

Out of my way!

YOUNG LILY: (SINGING) Very, very, very, very stinky!

DOT AND YOUNG LILY: (SINGING) Very, very, very, very stinky!

THE AUDIO TAKES ON THE

QUALITY OF A CASSETTE TAPE.

RECORDING OF YOUNG LILY: (STILL GIGGLY) And on that note, we’ll be back after this

commercial break.

ABBIE: Dot.

RECORDING OF DOT: Hold on to your Santa hats, people, because we’re just

getting started!

THE RECORDING STOPS.

A BUTTON IS PRESSED AND THE

RECORDING REWINDS.

RECORDING OF YOUNG LILY: Live from Mount Absalom, Ohio--

ABBIE: (LOUDER) Hey, Dot.

A BUTTON IS PRESSED. THE

RECORDING STOPS.

DOT: Oh, it’s you. I was just, y’know. Doing something much less

pathetic than how this probably looks.

ABBIE: Six days.

DOT: What?

ABBIE: It’s the twenty-fifth--

DOT: Merry Christmas.

ABBIE: --yeah, and Lily comes back from her dad’s on the

thirty-first. (PAUSE) You’re sitting alone in the basement

surrounded by her childhood mementos, I deduced that

you miss her, so I was saying, six days.

DOT: How could I miss her, we’ve been living out of each other’s

pockets since May.

I miss the days I could get a laugh out of her whenever I

wanted, that’s what I miss.

ABBIE: Scatalogical humor. I never saw the appeal.

DOT: Abbie. Where’s Rudy?

ABBIE: Out.

DOT: Can you stop by the observatory and tell him--

ABBIE: He’s not there.

DOT: He’s not.

ABBIE: He left a note. Last-minute holiday plans.

DOT: Who has last-minute holiday plans ?

ABBIE: Rudy. (A BEAT) You meant rhetorically.

DOT: What kind of plans?

ABBIE: The note didn’t specify.

DOT: At all?

ABBIE: It was a short note.

DOT: Is that what you came down here to say? That you don’t

know where Rudy is?

ABBIE: I just wanted to let you know, Dot, that I downloaded one of

those Bing Crosby Christmas specials to the house

computer, if you feel like watching it.

DOT: Why.

ABBIE: In case you’d like to revisit the music of your youth.

DOT: Honest question, how old do you think I am?

ABBIE: Dot…

DOT: Bing Crosby, seriously? He’s so corny…

ABBIE: My parents like him.

DOT: Then your parents are weird.

ABBIE: No argument there. (A BEAT) Is there any more

age-appropriate Christmas music you’d prefer?

DOT: Because old songs are good for a brain that’s getting a

little moldy, you mean?

ABBIE: I would not have put it that way, but music is supposed to

help, so I figured--

DOT: Did you look up how to handle someone with dementia?

ABBIE: Should I have not done that?

DOT: Did my daughter put you up to this?

ABBIE: No.

DOT: I don’t need coddling.

ABBIE: Okay.

DOT: Why would you think I need--

ABBIE: Nothing.

DOT: It’s something. I can tell it’s something.

ABBIE: It’s five pm.

DOT: And?

ABBIE: That’s a bathrobe. And slippers.

DOT: I lost track of time. Anyone can lose track of time.

Goddamn Rudy. I was gonna make him some saltine

cracker cookies.

ABBIE: I know. I found the recipe downstairs while I was making a

shopping list.

DOT: I just got groceries. What are we out of?

ABBIE: Milk. Bread. Coffee. Bananas. Also, there’s an inch of

slush on the walk and it’s supposed to drop back down to

freezing in an hour--

DOT: I’ll tell Wes to--oh.

ABBIE: Right.

DOT: Okay, I’ll go pick up some bananas, et cetera, once I’m

done shoveling. (PAUSE) So. When do you leave?

ABBIE: The room?

DOT: Don’t you have a family?

ABBIE: (GRITTED TEETH) Yes.

DOT: I’m sure it’s beautiful in--New Hampshire--

ABBIE: Upstate New York. I already told you I was staying here

through the holidays.

DOT: No you didn’t.

ABBIE: Yes, I did.

DOT: I’d know if you had, I’d definitely know.

ABBIE: I told you a week ago.

DOT: I would’ve written it down on the calendar, so I could keep

on top of changing the sheets. Are you sure you told me?

ABBIE: Yes. Remember, it turned out my sister Gail was planning

to visit my parents and you said, “That’s nice,” and I told

you that Gail’s one condition was that I not show?

DOT: Your Mom and Dad really let her get away with that shit?

ABBIE: That’s what you said last time.

DOT: Don’t pull my leg, it’s not funny.

ABBIE: And I’m not joking.

(SIGH) Gail has a toddler-age son my parents very much

want to see, and the closest I have to offspring is two thirds

of a thesis and a mound of grad school debt, which is just

not much of a bargaining chip. It is what it is, and I don’t

want to talk about it.

DOT: Oh.

ABBIE: Yep.

DOT: ...Do you want me to make you some saltine cracker

cookies?

ABBIE: ...yes.

TRANSITION

YOUNG LILY (RECORDING) (SINGING TO THE TUNE OF “WHAT CHILD IS THIS?”)

What child is this,

What child is this,

Will someone please tell me whose child this is?

What child is this,

What child is this,

DOT (RECORDING) (SINGING) And won’t someone please change his diaper?

YOUNG LILY LAUGHS.

THE RECORDING STOPS. A

BUTTON IS PRESSED. THE

RECORDING BEGINS TO

REVERSE.

TRANSITION, WHICH FADES

INTO...

ABBIE: Dot. Dot!

WE’RE IN THE KITCHEN. THE

CLOCK TICKS. SOUND NOTE:

DOT IS STILL WEARING

SLIPPERS.

DOT: What.

ABBIE: Are you sure you’re okay?

DOT: Yes.

ABBIE: Did you take your meds?

DOT: What?

ABBIE: Your medication, Dot, did you take it?

DOT: Of course I took it.

ABBIE: You’re positive.

DOT: Yes .

ABBIE: Okay. What do we need for the cookies?

DOT: What cookies?

ABBIE: The saltine--things.

DOT: (VAGUELY) Right. That.

ABBIE: The internet says we’re expecting six inches within the

hour, and Maureen DeSouza just called to remind you that

Carrie Shih’s too pregnant to drive the snow plow this year.

Why didn’t you answer the phone?

DOT: I was busy.

ABBIE: Doing what?

DOT: I have a lot to do here. It’s a lot of work.

ABBIE: Are you sure you’re alright?

DOT: Of course I am.

ABBIE: Okay. I thought I’d run out and pick up a few things while

the roads are still safe. (PAUSE) And that I’d go ahead and

shovel the walk on my way out.

DOT: (VAGUELY) Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that.

ABBIE: Take it off my rent. So. We need coffee, bread, milk, eggs--

DOT: Get jam. Boysenberry.

ABBIE: There are three and a half jars of jam in the fridge. The

contents of the fridge are, by volume, mosty jam.

DOT: You asked what I wanted, I’m telling you what I want! Why

are you making this so--so goddamn--

ABBIE: Fine. Fine! I’ll get jam.

DOT: Now I’m not even sure if I believe you.

ABBIE: Look, I’m typing it on my phone, right now. JAM.

PHONE TYPING.

(A BEAT) What else do we need?

DOT: I don’t wanna talk to you now.

ABBIE: Dot. Do we need saltines?

DOT: I don’t know.

ABBIE: For the cookies, do we need saltines?

DOT: Why do you care?

ABBIE: You said you’d make--it doesn’t matter.

I’ll say yes, and worst case scenario, we’ll have stale

crackers to go with our copious extra jam.

PHONE TYPING.

ABBIE: Anything else?

SILENCE

ABBIE: Alright, going to assume that’s everything.

A PAIR OF KEYS RETRIEVED

FROM A HOOK.

ABBIE: Call me if you think of something.

A COAT IS PUT ON AND ZIPPED

UP.

THE SOUND OF SEVERAL

CABINET DOORS SUDDENLY

BEING SLAMMED OPEN.

ABBIE: Dot?

DOT: (SCORNFULLY) Anything else? Anything else ?

ABBIE: That’s what I...said.

DOT: Look. Look ! You’re not looking.

ABBIE: You’re pointing to a shelf.

DOT: I need it.

ABBIE: ...the shelf?

DOT: No! There, right there!

ABBIE: It’s empty.

DOT: (AS IF EXPLAINING TO A SMALL CHILD) Yes, I know it’s

empty, because I need what used to be there.

ABBIE: Okay, so what used to be--

DOT: It’s gone.

ABBIE: I can see that, but. Before it was gone, what was it?

DOT: What?

ABBIE: In order to buy more, I need to know what it is you need.

DOT: I’m telling you, you’re not listening !

ABBIE: All you’ve said is that it isn’t here.

DOT: I need more--I’m completely out--

ABBIE: Okay. What was--

DOT: It’s empty! I don’t have any!

ABBIE: Don’t have any what?

DOT: What was in the cabinet!

ABBIE: What was in the cabinet?

DOT: You tell me!

ABBIE: Dot, I don’t know what was in there.

DOT: Some help you are!

ABBIE: Is there anything else I can—

DOT: I told you, I told you so many times what I want!

ABBIE: You haven’t even told me one time!

DOT: Don’t laugh at me!

ABBIE: I assure you, I am not laughing.

DOT: I’m not stupid! You’re treating me like I’m stupid and I’m

not .

ABBIE: (TRYING TO STAY CALM) I’m not treating you like you’re

stupid. I’m just a little confused, Dot.

DOT: I’m out of one thing, I just need one thing, why won’t you

help me?

ABBIE: What do you want me to do?

DOT: You’re supposed to help. You’re supposed to help .

ABBIE: (LOST) Do you. Want some tea?

DOT: What?

ABBIE: A nice cup of herbal tea?

DOT: No, I don’t want that! What would I want that for? I want

what was there, it was right there—

ABBIE: If you think of it, let me know—

DOT: Shut up! You’re always talking, talking, talking, and you

won’t even do one thing to help!

ABBIE: I’m in the middle of doing a favor for you right now!

DOT: Where’s my daughter? Call my daughter, she’ll know.

ABBIE: I’m not calling Lily to quiz her about what used to be in the

cabinets—

DOT: Lily will know, Lily will know—

ABBIE: Lily hasn’t memorized all the contents of your kitchen—

DOT: You have no idea what to do, you don’t even want to help,

but Lily, Lily—

ABBIE: Fine, you know what? I’ll call Lily.

ABBIE SCROLLS THROUGH

THEIR PHONE TO LILY’S

CONTACT INFO AND PRESSES

DIAL

ABBIE: (PAUSE) Lily, it’s Abbie Douglas. (PAUSE) She’s—uh.

Look, is there an outside chance you remember what was

in the lower cabinet to the immediate left of the sink?

(PAUSE) Moderately important. (PAUSE) No, the cleaning

supplies are under the sink. The oatmeal is—it’s not

oatmeal, we have oatmeal. If you remember, can you call

me? Thanks.

ABBIE ENDS THE CALL.

DOT: Let me talk to her.

ABBIE: She doesn’t know.

DOT: I wanna talk to my daughter.

ABBIE: I hung up, I’m not calling her again just so you can hear

her say the words “I don’t know” with your own ears—

DOT: Why won’t you let me talk to her? Why won’t you let me

talk to my own daughter?

ABBIE: Why would I lie to you about this?

DOT: Call her back.

ABBIE: You’ll just make her—(CATCHES THEMSELF)

DOT: She’s my daughter. She’s my daughter , who the hell are

you?

ABBIE: Dot. Listen to me. You’ve had an emotionally difficult day.

Your usual support system is gone. It’s getting late, and

sundown syndrome would suggest that you are not

thinking at your best right now, so if you could take a deep

breath and try to—

DOT: You’re saying I’m crazy.

ABBIE: Mental health is highly relative, statistically about fifty

percent of adults will be diagnosed with something in their

lifetimes—

DOT: Blah, blah, blah, you mean I’m crazy.

ABBIE: That’s—a pejorative term for an extremely common

condition—

DOT: I’m not stupid and I’m not crazy!

ABBIE: We’ve well passed any chance of making progress right

now, why don’t we—

DOT: Get out of here.

ABBIE: What?

DOT: Go, get out of here. You want to leave anyway, so go. Go!

ABBIE: Actually, I think I’ll get those groceries tomorrow.

ABBIE TAKES OFF THEIR COAT

AND RETURNS THEIR KEYS TO

THE HOOK.

ABBIE: I can tolerate dry cereal for another night.

DOT: I told you to leave.

ABBIE: I live here.

DOT: I don’t know you.

ABBIE: My name is Abbie Douglas, I’ve been a lodger in your

house since late May—

DOT: No, no you’re not, I’ve never met you—

ABBIE: I’m trying to explain to you—

DOT: I’m not crazy! I’m not some—crazy woman!

ABBIE: Can you stop using that word?

DOT: Dale! Dale, where are you?

ABBIE: You’re divorced.

DOT: What are you talking about. Where is my husband.

ABBIE: He won’t come, he’s not here. Just give me a second so I

can call your doctor—

DOT: Shut up, shut up! Dale!

ABBIE DIALS A NUMBER.

ABBIE: Please, stay calm and—(PAUSE) Voicemail, fucking

compulsory Christian holidays—

DOT: Dale?

ABBIE: Look, you’ve had a hard day. Why don’t you go upstairs

and get some rest? Studies show that sleep disturbance is

linked with dementia, and--

DOT: Why don’t you get the Hell out of my house right now?

ABBIE: Alright, second change of plans. I’m going to my room.

TWO SETS OF KEYS RETRIEVED

FROM THE HOOK .

DOT: My keys!

ABBIE HEADS TOWARDS THE

STAIRS. DOT TRAILS AFTER.

ABBIE: You are not getting behind the wheel of a car like this.

DOT STOPS. ABBIE CONTINUES

TOWARDS THE STAIRS.

DOT: I’m FINE!

ABBIE STARTS UP THE STAIRS.

ABBIE: Come get me if there’s an emergency.

DOT: You don’t get to tell me what to do!

ABBIE’S DOOR SLAMS.

DOT: I’ll call the police!

DOT’S FOOTSTEPS HEAD WITH

DETERMINATION TO THE

KITCHEN. THE RADIATOR

STARTS TO CLANG AND HISS.

(TO HERSELF) I’ll call the police...They’ll know what to

do…

DOT PICKS UP THE RECEIVER,

DIALS 911.

Hello, 911?

WES: Dot...

DOT: I…

RADIATOR (WES) Dot…

DOT: What’s doing that?

WES: Dot...it’s okay...

DOT: I need to...uh...

WES: Take your medicine.

DOT: It makes me so tired. It gives me the shits. I don’t wanna.

WES: Take your medicine.

DOT: No.

THE PHONE STARTS TO BEEP

LIKE THE OTHER SIDE HAS

HUNG UP.

...they hung up.

DOT HANGS UP THE PHONE.

DOT: It’s okay. You’re okay. (STARTS TO HUM “WHAT CHILD

IS THIS?”)

Lily! Where’s Lily!

DOT RUNS OUT OF THE

KITCHEN, DOWN THE HALLWAY

LILY! LILY!

DOT PRIES OPEN THE FRONT

DOOR. SNOW IS FALLING, WIND

IS HOWLING.

DOT: LILY?

DOT STEPS OUTSIDE, SLAMMING

THE DOOR BEHIND HER.

DOT: Lily, honey? (TO HERSELF) I never should’ve left her

alone!

TRANSITION: TEN MINUTES

LATER. WIND CONTINUES TO

BLOW. DOT IS SHIVERING, AND

WALKING AS FAST AS SHE CAN

IN THE SNOW, WITH A SLIPPER

ON ONE FOOT AND NOTHING ON

THE OTHER.

DOT: Lily? Where are you?

WES (MOSTLY WIND): Dot…

DOT: Be quiet! Please be quiet!

WES (MOSTLY WIND): Dot...

DOT: Stop!

WES (MOSTLY WIND): Dot, go back inside…

DOT: No! (SHIVERING BADLY) My girl needs her mom.

WES: (MOSTLY WIND) Dot, you (LESS WIND, MORE WES)

need to (MOSTLY WES) go back inside (WES) right now!

DOT: You’re just a kid. Who--

WES: Doesn’t matter, get back inside!

DOT: Where’s Lily.

WES: She’s safe, I promise. She’s with Dale. They’re both safe.

Please come back inside, it’s too cold.

DOT: I can’t see…

WES: Wipe off your glasses.

DOT: Everything’s wet, I can’t--!

WES: Stay calm, Dot. Stay calm.

DOT: I can’t see, which way to the house--

WES: It’s okay. Walk with me.

DOT: I can’t see you!

WES: Follow my voice! This way, towards the light!

DOT: I can’t--it’s not my time yet, please--

WES: It’s Sheriff Joshi’s headlamps.

DOT: Oh.

THE CAR ROLLS TO A STOP

WITH A SNOWY CRUNCH. THE

WIPERS ARE GOING HARD. THE

DOOR OPENS.

SHERIFF JOSHI: Ms. Harper? You okay?

DOT: Uh...

THROUGH THE WIND, SHERIFF

JOSHI UNBUCKLES HIS

SEATBELT, AND JUMPS OUT OF

THE CAR, SLAMMING THE DOOR

BEHIND HIM. HE WALKS

TOWARDS DOT.

SHERIFF JOSHI: Hey, hey, let’s get you back home.

SHERIFF JOSHI WALKS DOT TO

THE PASSENGER SEAT AND

OPENS THE DOOR.

SHERIFF JOSHI: There you go, you can ride shotgun.

DOT: My daughter…

SHERIFF JOSHI: She’s fine. Let’s give her a call once you’re home, yeah?

Hey, looks like you’re down a slipper.

DOT: I--I don’t know where, I--

SHERIFF JOSHI: Don’t worry about it, Dot. And don’t freeze your feet off

looking for it. Slippers are replaceable. Toes are not.

Come on, we’re getting snow on the seat.

DOT CLIMBS INTO THE CAR. THE

DOOR SHUTS. SNOW PELTS THE

WINDSHIELD AND THE HEAT IS

ON FULL BLAST. DOT EXHALES

SHAKILY. SHERIFF JOSHI CLIMBS

IN FROM THE OTHER SIDE.

SHERIFF JOSHI: Hate to be that guy, but: seatbelt, Dot. (WARMLY) And

don’t give me that “I live on the edge” business. Nobody in

this town gets to live on the edge of automotive safety. I

think I ran on that platform once. 2000, maybe?

A SEATBELT CLICKS, THEN

ANOTHER. SHERIFF JOSHI PUTS

THE CAR IN DRIVE.

SHERIFF JOSHI: Boy, it’s really coming down out there, huh? I saw Chester

Warren at Otto’s the other day and he said we were getting

ten inches. I don’t know about that, but it is coming down.

Something for the record books, I’m sure. Climate change

and all that. Is the temperature okay for you?

DOT: What?

SHERIFF JOSHI: I know I’ve got the heat cranked pretty high but I can really

break off the knob if you want.

DOT: I’m okay.

SHERIFF JOSHI: Good, good, let me know if that changes. It’s positively

gelid out.

DOT: What?

SHERIFF JOSHI: Gelid? It means “very cold.” My wife’s sister got me one of

those word-a-day calendars for my birthday, not quite sure

what message she was trying to send, but hey, it

occasionally comes in handy, can’t complain!

DOT: I--tried to call the police…

SHERIFF JOSHI: And I’m right here.

TRANSITION: WE’RE IN THE

FENWOOD HOUSE. THE DOOR

OPENS.

ABBIE: Dot.

SHERIFF JOSHI: Season’s greetings, Abbie.

DOT AND SHERIFF JOSHI ENTER.

SHERIFF JOSHI STAMPS HIS

FEET ON THE MAT.

SHERIFF JOSHI: Here you go, Dot.

ABBIE: Is she okay?

DOT: Is who okay?

SHERIFF JOSHI: No signs of frostbite or hypothermia. Get a couple warm

blankets and some wool socks, a nice fire going, and she’ll

be better.

DOT: I’m going to bed.

SHERIFF JOSHI: That works, too.

DOT’S FOOTSTEPS UP THE

STAIRS. SHE PAUSES.

DOT: Did he come in?

SHERIFF JOSHI: Did who come in, Ms. Harper.

DOT: That nice young man. Walt, no, Will.

ABBIE: Wes is--away for the moment.

DOT: But I just saw him. (A BEAT) I...thought I saw him.

SHERIFF JOSHI: Get some rest, Dot.

DOT’S FOOTSTEPS CONTINUE

UP THE STAIRS. HER DOOR

SHUTS.

ABBIE: Thank you. For finding her.

SHERIFF JOSHI: Thanks for calling me. You did the right thing.

ABBIE: I don’t--I think--I think I’m not good at this.

SHERIFF JOSHI: Nobody starts off an expert. She’s safe, that’s what

matters. So, do you wanna do the honors or should I?

ABBIE: What?

SHERIFF JOSHI: Which of us calls Lily and gets her caught up?

ABBIE: I don’t see any reason to do that.

SHERIFF JOSHI: Are you sure?

ABBIE: Lily’s been looking forward to seeing her dad and her

stepmom for weeks. If she finds out about Dot, she’ll cut

her trip short, and for what? She can’t change her mom’s

brain chemistry.

SHERIFF JOSHI: If you’re sure.

ABBIE: I’m sure.

SHERIFF JOSHI: Boy, I never thought I’d see Dot Harper riding in a cop car.

At least, not in the front seat. It’s too bad you didn’t know

her back in her prime, she was really something. Ebullient.

Uh, that means--

ABBIE: I know what ebullient means.

SHERIFF JOSHI: I tell you what, she used to keep things around here

interesting. One time--

ABBIE: Do you mind closing down that train of thought.

SHERIFF JOSHI: I’m sorry?

ABBIE: I’m just. (POINT OF VIEW SWITCH: DOT’S ROOM.

ABBIE AND JOSHI ARE MUFFLED AND FAR OFF) A little

tired of the litany of things lost.

SHERIFF JOSHI: Of course!

RECORDING OF DOT: (SINGING) Hark the Harold angels sing,

Why the Hell are we all named Harold?

RECORDING OF LILY: (LAUGHS)

A BUTTON IS PRESSED. THE

RECORDING REWINDS. END. CREDITS.