Affliction Page #5
- R
- Year:
- 1997
- 114 min
- 634 Views
WADE:
I don't want her to go, Lillian.
LILLIAN:
Don't cause a scene. No one's trying
to win any 'rounds'. Don't make it
any worse.
WADE:
I'm not making it any worse. You
are. Me and Jill could've worked
this thing out. It's normal, it's
even normal for me to get a little
touchy about it. Believe it or not.
How do you think this makes me look,
treating her like some tragic victim
or something?
Horner opens the car door for Jill, shuts it. Wade shoves
him:
WADE:
Just wait till we're through,
goddamnit!
Horner's hat falls. Lillian, icy, stares at Wade. He backs
off. Wade sometimes wonders: how'd Lillian Pittman of Lawford,
N.H., get so much class?
WADE:
Don't you say a word. I didn't hit
him. I'm not going to hit anybody.
Horner sits behind the wheel. Lillian silently stares Wade
up and down, gets in the car beside Jill. The automatic locks
latch as the Audi drives away. Its taillights merge with
vanishing traffic.
Wade looks down, picks up Horner's dark green Tyrolean hat,
examines it, as if unsure of its function.
Wade walks toward Town Hall. MARGIE FOGG, exiting, greets
him:
MARGIE:
New hat?
(no answer)
Jill's up, I see.
WADE:
(vague)
For a while.
MARGIE:
How's she doing?
WADE:
Okay. She's fine.
MARGIE:
You two want to do anything tomorrow
and need a third party, give me a
call, okay? I'm off.
NICK WICKHAM, 45, Marg's boss, passes by:
WICKHAM:
Like hell you are. Tomorrow's first
day of deer season. I'll need you at
least in the morning.
MARGIE:
(shrugs)
Well, that's that.
NICK:
(walks off)
Take care, Wade.
WADE:
You be careful of that little bastard.
He's dying to get in your pants, you
know.
MARGIE:
(laughs)
Don't worry. I can protect my virtue.
I mean, c'mon, Wade, give me a break.
WADE:
See you tomorrow, maybe.
MARGIE:
You okay?
WADE:
Yeah.
Wade, lost in thought, continues toward Town Hall. At the
door, LaRiviere, one of the last to leave, eyes him. Wade
tosses Horner's hat inside.
WADE:
Tomorrow, Gordon.
LARIVIERE:
Watch this snow. It's coming down
tonight.
Wade nods as he lights a cigarette. Alone, he watches the
last cars pull out. He holds his jaw.
CUT TO:
EXT. WADE'S TRAILER HOME - DAWN
Pre-dawn light silhouettes a dozen weather-beaten mobile
homes set off Route 29. Snow continues to fall. A sheet of
white stretches down Parker mountain.
CUT TO:
INT. WADE'S TRAILER - DAWN
6:
40. A clock radio pierces the silence with classic rock.Wade Whitehouse rolls over, runs his tongue across mossy
teeth, shuts off the music. He looks out the window, grunts:
"Sh*t!" He steps over to the phone by the frayed plaid couch,
dials.
Wade's trailer is surprisingly neat, considering its owner
smokes too much, drinks too much, eats take-out and rarely
cleans up.
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"Affliction" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 4 May 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/affliction_830>.
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