Vapors: The Essential G. Wayne Miller Fiction Vol. 2
Page 22
She is wearing a delicately carved scrimshaw ring. She takes it off. The Unchained Melody soundtrack comes up in volume.
SERENA
Wear it for me.
Serena puts the ring on Ben’s finger.
SERENA (CONT’D)
We’re bound together now. For all eternity.
The STEREO becomes louder still, as Unchained Melody reaches its climax.
END FLASHBACK
CUT TO:
A series of shots of Bergman coasting down the wheelchair ramp from his house, through Harvard Square, and across Harvard Yard to the Widener Library, one of the largest in the world.
INT. WIDENER LIBRARY - AFTERNOON
Staff members respectfully greet Bergman as he enters Widener. At the locked entrance to an ordinarily off-limits section of the library — books that do not circulate — he encounters a LIBRARIAN.
LIBRARIAN
What brings you here the day before the Fourth?
BERGMAN
Oh, just another paper.
LIBRARIAN
You work too hard, Professor Bergman.
BERGMAN
I suppose I do.
Alone, Bergman heads off through the dusty stacks. After a search, he finds what he wants: a large leather-bound, gold- trimmed book that is about 150 years old.
CLOSE ON THE BOOK
Bergman turns the fragile pages, stopping at a wood carving of a mermaid.
CLOSE ON THE WOOD CARVING
Except for the fantail, this could be Serena. Bergman opens his briefcase and brings out one of Ben’s photographs of Serena. He compares it to the wood carving.
BERGMAN
Just as I thought. It is her.
Bergman begins to read aloud, in English translation, the Old Norse text that the wood carving illustrates. Finger trembling, he traces the words as he reads.
INSERT - TEXT OF ANCIENT BOOK
The passage is in an ornate script.
BERGMAN
The incomparable beauty and cunning of the one they called The Ravisher made her impossible to resist. She was the second most powerful of the sea nymphs, possessed of clairvoyance and the ability to be simultaneously in two locations. Her appetite was as voracious as it was unquenchable. She was known by her brown hair and the sound of her voice, as smooth as the finest silk. Unlike most of her kind, she was vested with the power to change her appearance. She could even, when warranted, seem to be a man.
CLOSE ON THE WOOD CARVING
In particular, the mermaid’s hand. She is wearing the same scrimshaw ring that Serena gave to Bergman and to Ben.
BERGMAN (CONT’D)
Her courtships culminated in the gift of the ring, the wearing of which amounted to a sentence of death. Dating from the reign of King Olaf the Second in the 15th Century, if not earlier, she was known up and down Trondheim Fjord, where she took diabolical delight in teasing her intendeds, sometimes for years.
(a beat)
But The Ravisher, who was variously known as Sigrid and Serena, after the Greek, was destined to meet her match. The old folk still talk of her contempt for Ursula, Queen of the sea nymphs, and their epic confrontation in the summer of 1825. Victorious after seven days and nights of battle, Ursula banished The Ravisher, who was wounded, but not mortally so.
(a beat)
Thirty years have passed, and Serena has not returned. Where she went, and what occupies her now, is unknown...
Bergman looks up from the book.
BERGMAN (CONT’D)
Eighteen-twenty five... That’s the year the sloop Restoration set sail from Stavanger to New York, setting off the first wave of Norwegian immigration to America. Bergman flips through the book again, stops at another page, and reads.
BERGMAN (CONT’D)
Throughout all the centuries that she plied her wickedness in Trondheim, there were no recorded instances in which Serena, once intent on her chosen, was dissuaded. Although the Ritual of the Damned was deployed with occasional success against lesser sea nymphs, it is not known if it were ever tried against Serena. One must assume that if such an attempt were made, it was futile.
Bergman looks up from the book.
BERGMAN (CONT’D)
Stupid old fool — I never should have sent Benjamin
back to her alone. I must warn him.
Bergman closes the book, looks left and right, and seeing no one, slips it into his briefcase.
He wheels himself through the stacks until he gets a clear signal for his cell phone.
An OPERATOR comes on the line.
OPERATOR (O.S.)
What city and state, please?
BERGMAN
Block Island, Rhode Island. The name is Benjamin Houghton.
The operator puts Bergman through to the summer place. Serena answers.
SERENA (O.S.)
Professor Bergman, how delightful that you should call. I know how diligently you have tracked me all these years. The attention is flattering. Especially given the circumstances of our parting so long ago. I was left with the distinct impression that you were not amused.
Bergman does not immediately answer.
SERENA (O.S.) (CONT’D)
Are you too timid to speak, Professor Bergman? Does the sound of my voice echoing through the years send a chill down your horny old spine? Or are you so decrepit now, Bergie, that you’ve forgotten the power of lust?
BERGMAN
I’m looking for Ben.
SERENA
Ben is not here, but he will be, and soon. How ridiculous to think you could come between us. You, who fancy yourself the expert.
Serena lets loose a shrieking laugh and hangs up.
EXT. OLD HARBOR, BLOCK ISLAND - EARLY EVENING
The ferry landing is mobbed this July 3. Many are here to greet passengers, but more are early arrivals for tonight’s fireworks, which are being set up on the waterfront. A bloated red sun is starting toward the horizon, but the sky remains clear over the harbor, crowded with pleasure craft.
Ben drives his Cherokee off the ferry. As he heads at a snail’s pace toward Main Street, he spots Steve McAfferty, who is using his cell phone and walkie-talkie to help coordinate fire engines, patrol boats, etc.
STEVE
This is crazy, Ben. Cra-zee! The Town Council spent eleven grand on these fireworks. Eleven grand — that’s more than my full-year maintenance budget! They said it would be good for the tourist industry. Set off a brouhaha at town meeting, it did, but looking at this mob scene, who could argue now? I just hope the thunder holds off. The Weather Service says there’s a nasty storm on the way — put down hail the size of golf balls moving through New York, it did. Even a report of a tornado. That’s all we’d need, with this flotilla here.
(a beat)
I thought you said Steffie was joining you for the Fourth.
BEN
She’s coming over tomorrow — I hope. The trial went to jury today. No telling when there’ll be a verdict.
STEVE notices that his friend seems shaken.
STEVE
You OK, Ben?
BEN
Sure.
STEVE
You don’t seem OK.
BEN
I’m fine.
STEVE
Haven’t come down with a case of the pre-baby jitters?
BEN
No, really, I’m fine.
STEVE
Well, we’ll see you tonight, right? You still do fireworks, don’t you, Ben?
BEN
Of course.
STEVE
To this day, I remember the show your dad, God rest his soul, put on every year. Now, those were some fireworks. Well, see ya. I got a harbor full of drunken landlubbers to baby-sit.
STEVE melts into the crowd as Ben drives away.
EXT. PROFESSOR BERGMAN’S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING
Bergman is on the sidewalk in front of his house, talking to his housekeeper, who is visibly worried.
HOUS
EKEEPER
Are you certain we shouldn’t rent a car? I could drive. You’d be so much more comfortable.
BERGMAN
I need you to find Stephanie. It’s more imperative than ever that she stay away from this now.
An old-fashioned Checker Cab — the kind with the huge back seat — pulls up. The cabbie, in his 50s, has an unshaven face, unkempt hair. He’s wearing a worn Red Sox cap. A beaten man. When he speaks, it’s in a hoarse voice.
BERGMAN (CONT’D)
Here it is now.
CABBIE
You call a cab, mister?
BERGMAN
Yes.
The housekeeper helps Bergman in. Then she folds his wheelchair and the cabbie puts it in the trunk.
BERGMAN (CONT’D)
Goodbye, Florence.
HOUSEKEEPER
May the Good Lord be with you, Professor Bergman.
The housekeeper makes the sign of the cross.
INT. CAB - EARLY EVENING
BERGMAN
(to the cabbie)
Narragansett, Rhode Island. The Block Island ferry.
CABBIE
Are you kidding, buddy? That’s two hours away. Trip like that’s gonna cost you two grand — up front. Not that you look like a stiff or nothin’, but you know how it is these days.
BERGMAN
Of course.
CABBIE
Can’t pick up the morning paper without reading about another cabbie gettin’ stiffed. If I had all the money I got screwed outta, I’d be at Fenway right now, not drivin’ this heap.
Sox are playing the Yankees. What I wouldn’t give to be there.
Bergman hands over ten twenties.
CABBIE (CONT’D)
Thanks, pal.
(a beat)
Say, you all right, buddy? You don’t look it.
BERGMAN
I’m fine. Now, please. There is an urgency to my trip.
CUT TO:
A series of shots of the cab leaving Boston on the busy
Southeast Expressway. The Red Sox broadcast is on the radio.
INT. CAB - EVENING
Bergman is reading more from the book he stole from Widener Library. He is engrossed in a chapter outlining the Ritual of the Damned. He whispers a passage.
BERGMAN
Accompanied by the sign of the cross, Holy Water is sprinkled and the words of the most sacred of sacraments is spoken by the ordained...
Bergman stops reading and speaks to the cabbie.
BERGMAN (CONT’D)
Before we get to the ferry, I need to stop at a Roman Catholic Church.
CABBIE
Any one in particular?
BERGMAN
The first one we see. You will please wait while I go inside the rectory. I will have another passenger when I emerge.
CABBIE
That’s gonna be extra.
BERGMAN
I understand.
CABBIE
Fifty bucks extra. And ten on top of that if there’s any luggage.
Bergman hands over five more twenties.
BERGMAN
Keep the change. You’re being very accommodating.
CABBIE
Geez, thanks, buddy!
(a beat)
Did you hear that? Big Papi just hit one over
the left-field wall!
WIDE ANGLE:
Of the cab as it nears the top of the Newport Bridge, which connects Newport to Jamestown, Rhode Island. The sun is setting over Narragansett Bay, but dark clouds are moving in from the west. Bergman is not visible from this distance, but his voice can be heard as he reads more of the book.
BERGMAN (V.O.)
...as the blade pierces the flesh, penetrating down to bone, the ordained, wearing the vestments of the Resurrection, entreats the Lord...
CUT TO:
A closer shot of the cab as it reaches the top of the bridge and stops in the travel lane. Cars whizz by. Bergman looks up from the book.
INT. CAB - EVENING
BERGMAN
Is there some sort of trouble?
The cabbie turns around to face his passenger. He peels off a mask and wig to REVEAL Serena.
SERENA
Only for you, professor.
BERGMAN
Siri. Or should I say Serena. You’re as beautiful as ever.
SERENA
And you’re a crippled old lech whose life is behind him. Such a shame, Bergie. You could have been young forever.
BERGMAN
At the cost of my soul.
SERENA
A small cost, wouldn’t you say, given where you are now. Oh, but you scorned me. How sad I was — and then, how angry. But anger is such a self-destructive emotion.
BERGMAN
What would you know about emotion?
You’re not human.
SERENA
Tell me what it means to be human, professor.
Tell me about regret and guilt and sleep-walking through life, destined only for the grave.
BERGMAN
Tell me about searching forever for something you can never have.
SERENA
Touche, Bergie — I see you haven’t lost your clever wit. In any event, I let my anger go. Other men, more worthy, came along. I’ve never lacked for men. I don’t have to tell you that.
(a beat)
But here we are, together once more. What’s that old saying humans have? ‘What goes around comes around?’
Putting the cab in neutral, and leaving the emergency brake off, Serena steps carefully onto the bridge. She goes to Bergman’s window.
SERENA (CONT’D)
We’re at the precise apex of the bridge, professor. Surely at some point in your distinguished Harvard career you were exposed to physics and will understand how this vehicle is perfectly balanced now. I believe the technical term is equilibrium. But one little push and you’ll be hurtling down toward my place. The place where we swim with the fishes.
BERGMAN
Please consider what you are doing.
SERENA
For centuries, I have.
BERGMAN
My life matters little, I’m old and near the end. But Ben — you are destroying an innocent young man.
SERENA
No, my dear Bergie, I’m saving an innocent young man. From a lifetime of sleep-walking. From life itself.
BERGMAN
Think of Stephanie.
SERENA
I get sick when I do.
BERGMAN
She is expecting their child.
SERENA
Is this where the violins come in? Enough talk, my long-lost lover. It’s time for another physics lesson.
(a beat)
This one is called acceleration. Serena pushes the cab, which begins rolling down the bridge. As it picks up more and more speed, we see Bergman trying to open his door, but it is a futile effort.
With the haunting sound of Serena’s laughter, the cab crosses lanes, flips, hurtles over the guardrail and plummets, spinning end-to-end, into the bay.
CLOSE ON:
A bloody Bergman clawing at the window as the cab fills with water and slowly heads to the bottom.