The Insider Page #3

INT. THE WIGANDS' HOUSE, FOYER - DAY

Jeffrey comes in and a young Girl, six, is watching

television in the den...BARBARA.

WIGAND:

Hi, honey.

BARBARA:

Hi, Daddy.

WIGAND:

What's new?

BARBARA:

Ms. Laufer gave me a star today.

WIGAND:

Yeah? What for?

BARBARA:

For reading.

He pours himself a drink at a wet bar.

WIGAND:

That's great... Little early for

cartoons, isn't it?

BARBARA:

Okay.

Dutiful, she shuts off the TV, going upstairs.

BARBARA (cont'd)

Deborah? Debbie?

He looks outside. A Woman is sitting on the back porch

drinking wine, reading a paperback book, drinking wine.

There's something like a Hockney painting about her against

the manicured lawns. Right now the Woman comes in. She's

pretty, tall, languid, reserved, somebody it would be nice to

wear on your arm. LIANE WIGAND. She has an odd delay

between a thought and her speech...

LIANE:

Oh, I didn't know you were home... It's

early... Isn't it?

He doesn't say anything...

LIANE (CONT'D)

Gotta take Debbie to ballet...

And it all feels suburban, familiar. Suddenly there's a

shout...

BARBARA'S VOICE (OVER)

Mommy!

Jeffrey goes quickly up the stairs into...

INT. WIGAND'S HOUSE - DEBORAH'S BEDROOM - DAY

And a little girl, eight, sitting on the floor in a ballet

leotard, her head back, wheezing, her neck muscles

contracting and bulging, her face pale, lips white, and her

eyes filled with fear as rapid, shallow breathing induces a

sense of suffocation. DEBORAH WIGAND is having a severe

asthmatic attack...

WIGAND:

Sweetheart, c'mon. C'mon.

BARBARA:

She was playing with my Pooh doll

again...

Jeffrey sits her on the side of her bed next to which is a

Nebulizer, an air compressor to deliver medication via a tube

into a circular mouthpiece.

The compressor whirs. Deborah breathes in the medication.

Jeffrey brushes the hair back from her face and wipes

perspiration from her forehead as...

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