‘The Road Less Traveled’
By George R. R. Martin
FADE IN
INT. - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
JEFF MCDOWELL and his wife DENISE, an attractive couple in their late thirties, are cuddled together on their couch, watching TV. She’s sleepy but contented; he’s rapt on the screen. The light of the TV plays over their faces. The furnishings are eclectic, not expensive or terribly chic, but comfortable. There’s a fireplace, with bookshelves to either side stuffed with magazines and plenty of well-read dog-eared paperbacks.
O.S. we hear dialogue from the original version of The Thing: the exchange ‘What if it can read minds?’ ‘Then it’ll be real mad when it gets to me.’ Jeff smiles. Behind them, we SEE their five-year-old daughter, megan, enter the room.
MEGAN
Daddy, I’m scared.
As Megan comes over to the couch, Denise sits up. The girl climbs up into Jeff’s lap.
JEFF
Hey, it’s only a space carrot.
Vegetables are nothing to scared of.
(beat, smile)
What are you doing down here anyway?
Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?
MEGAN
There’s a man in my room.
Denise and Jeff exchange looks. Jeff hits the pause button.
DENISE
Honey, you were just having a bad dream.
MEGAN
(stubborn)
I was not! I saw him, Mommy.
JEFF
(to Denise)
My turn, I guess.
Jeff picks up his daughter, carries her toward the stairs.
JEFF
(cheerful, reassuring)
Well, we’ll just have to see who’s scaring my girl, huh?
(aside, to Denise)
If he reads minds, he’ll be real mad when he gets to me.
CUT TO
INT. - MEGAN’S BEDROOM
As Jeff opens the door. A typical untidy five-year-old’s room. Dolls, toys, a small bed. A huge stuffed animal, fallen on its side, fills one corner. The only light is a small nightlight in the shape of some cartoon character. Megan points.
MEGAN
He was over there. He was watching me, Daddy.
JEFFS POINT OF VIEW
As he looks. Under the window is a shape that does indeed look like a man sitting in a chair, staring at them.
BACK TO THE SCENE
Jeff turns on the overhead light, and suddenly the man in the chair is nothing but a pile of clothes.
JEFF
See. It’s nothing Megan.
MEGAN
It was a man, Daddy. He scared me.
Jeff musses his daughter’s hair.
JEFF
Just a bad dream, Megan. My big girl isn’t scared of a little nightmare, is she?
He carries her to bed, tucks her in. Megan looks uncertain about the whole thing; she sure doesn’t want to left alone.
JEFF
Can you keep a secret?
Megan nods solemnly.
JEFF
(conspiratorially)
When I was a kid, I had lots of bad dreams. And monsters.
MEGAN
(wide-eyed)
Monsters?
JEFF
In the closet, under the bed, everywhere. Then my dad told me the secret. After that I wasn’t scared any more,
(whispers in her ear)
Monsters can’t get you if you hide under the blankets!
MEGAN
They can’t?
JEFF
(solemn, definite)
Those are the rules. Even monsters have to obey the rules.
Megan pulls up her blankets and ducks underneath, giggling.
JEFF
That’s my girl.
(lifts blankets, tickles her)
But blankets can’t hide you from daddies.
They tussle playfully for a moment. Then Jeff kisses her, tucks her back in.
JEFF
Now go to sleep, you hear?
Megan nods, ducks under the blanket. Jeff smiles, goes to the door, and pauses to look back before turning out the light.
JEFFS POINT OF VIEW
Of the room, the bed, Megan’s small form huddled under the blankets, the scattered toys. He flicks the switch.
SMASH CUT TO
INT. - HUT IN VIETNAM - NIGHT
Everything is the same; everything is grotesquely different. The walls and roof are thatched, the floor is dirt. The arrangement of objects is a distorted echo of Megan’s room. Outside the window a nearby fire illuminates the scene (instead of a streetlamp). In a dark corner, where the stuffed animal lay in Megan’s room, a body slumps instead. Every toy, block, and object from Megan’s room has a counterpart placed identically, pots and pans, a rag doll, a gun, etc. The bed is a pile of straw, and the blanket is ragged, but there’s still a child’s body beneath. Only now there’s a dark stain spreading on the cloth. We hear Jeff’s shocked gasp. The Vietnam shot should be held very briefly, almost a subliminal. Then Jeff turns the light back on and we
SMASH CUT TO
MEGAN’S ROOM
As before. Everything is normal.
CLOSE ON JEFF
Disoriented, confused, he stares for a beat, shakes his head.
BACK TO THE SCENE
Jeff turns off the light again. This time nothing happens. He closes the door softly, and we follow him downstairs.
LIVING ROOM
Denise is glancing over some legal briefs, oversized glasses on the end of her nose. She glances up at Jeff, and notices something in his expression that makes her put away the papers.
DENISE
What’s wrong? You look like death warmed over.
JEFF
(still shaken)
It’s nothing ... I thought... ah, it’s absurd. Like daughter like father, I guess,
(forced laugh)
The ‘man’ was a chair full of clothes.
DENISE
She’s got your imagination.
JEFF
I wondered who took it.
DENISE
She’s okay, though?
Jeff seats himself, picks up the remote control, turns the movie back on just in time for the ‘Keep watching the skies’ speech.
JEFF
Sure.
CUT TO
MEGAN’S ROOM
The girl is huddled under the blankets in the soft glow of her nightlight. We HEAR her soft, steady breathing. The camera MOVES in slowly, with the faint SOUND of a wheelchair moving across a hardwood floor.
CLOSE ON MEGAN
As a shadow falls across her. She does not stir, not even when a man’s hand moves in from off camera, grasps the corner of her blanket, and pulls it back with ominous slowness.
FADE OUT
FADE BACK IN
INT. - CLASSROOM - THE NEXT DAY
A college lecture hall. Twenty-odd students are watching and taking notes while Jeff paces in front of the class, tossing a stub of chalk idly as he lectures. On the blackboard is WRITTEN NY JOURNAL - HEARST and NY WORLD - PULITZER.
JEFF
—when Remington complained that he couldn’t find a war, Hearst supposedly cabled him back and said, ‘You provide the pictures. I’ll provide the war.’ Now, that anecdote is probably apocryphal, but the role the yellow press played in whipping up war fervor was beyond dispute.
A sullen dark-haired student with the look of a jock interrupts the lecture before Jeff can proceed.
JOCK
At least they were on our side.
Jeff stops, looks at him, sits on the edge of his desk.
JEFF
You have a point to make, Mueller?
JOCK
(points at board)
These guys, at least they were behind our boys. The real yellow journalists were the ones who ran down everything we did in Nam.
JEFF
(drily)
Not every war can be as box office as Hearst’s little shoot-em-up, I guess.
JOCK
Yeah, well at least we won that one. We could have won in Nam too.
JEFF
I wouldn’t go that far, Mueller. You need to spend more time with your text and less with Rambo.
The class breaks into laughter, but the jock looks angry. Before Jeff can resume his lecture, the class bell RINGS. The students begin to rise, gather up their books, etc.
JEFF
Remember, chapter twelve of Emery is due by next week.
He puts down the chalk and begins to clear his papers into a briefcase as the students file out. The jock lingers until he and Jeff are alone. He steps up to the desk. Physically he is bigger than Jeff, who closes the briefcase and looks up at him.
JOCK
So where were you during Nam, Mister McDowell?
The two men lock eyes for a long, solid beat. It is Jeff who breaks and looks away first, his eyes averted as he replies.
JEFF
(brusquely)
I was in school. Not that it’s any of your business.
He brushes past, walking a little faster than necessary, while the jock watches him go.
CUT TO
EXT. - DAYCARE PARKING LOT - DAY
Denise and Megan emerge from a Day Care Center, and cross the parking lot to her Volvo. Denise, on her way home from work, is dressed in a chic tailored suit, carrying a briefcase. As she unlocks the car, we HEAR the sound of a wheelchair.
ANGLE OVER VET’S SHOULDER AT DENISE
In f.g., we see a man’s shoulder and the back of his head. Denise backs out of the parking spot, turns toward the camera.
ANGLE ON CAR
As it passes we get a quick glimpse of a legless man in a wheelchair (THE VET) turning to follow it with his eyes. He is long-haired, bearded, his trousers pinned up at mid-thigh, wearing a shapeless olive drab jacket without badges. We should not see his face clearly.
CLOSE ON MEGAN
staring out the car window, she SEES the Vet, follows him with her eyes until they turn a corner.
TIME CUT TO
EXT. - MCDOWELL HOUSE - EVENING
Denise pulls up and parks the Volvo in the driveway, behind Jeff’s modest Datsun. The house is a two-story suburban tract home; pleasant, respectable, in a decent neighborhood, but nothing too large or expensive. A comfortable middle-class sort of house.
CUT TO
INT. - KITCHEN
Denise & Megan enter, to find Jeff tossing a salad. A small TV set sits on the counter, and Jeff watches the news from the corner of his eye. The newscaster is reading a story about El Salvador. An open bottle of wine and half-empty glass are close at hand. Jeff turns when they enter.
JEFF
Roast beef, baked potatoes, tossed salad, and wine,
(kisses Megan)
Except for you. You get milk,
(to Denise)
So how does that sound?
DENISE
Like paradise regained,
(to Megan)
Go wash up, honey.
Megan rushes off upstairs.
DENISE
So what’s wrong?
JEFF
Wrong? What makes you think something’s wrong?
Denise gives him a rueful smile, picks up the wine bottle, sloshes it thoughtfully.
DENISE
Clues, Sherlock. The last time you served wine was the day your car got banged up in the school lot. What is it this time?
Jeff looks as though he’s going to deny it, then stops, shrugs. She knows him too well.
JEFF
This morning in class, a student asked me where I was during Vietnam,
(beat, grimace)
I told him I was in school.
DENISE
You were. I remember it distinctly. I was there with you, remember?
JEFF
I left out the part about the school being in Canada.
DENISE
It’s none of his business anyway.
JEFF
That’s what I said. I just feel...
(beat, hesitant)
I don’t know. Guilty. Like I did something wrong. Dumb, huh?
He opens the oven, pokes at the roast with a long fork.
JEFF
Well, it didn’t moo. It think it’s done.
CUT TO
INT. - DINING ROOM
Denise is filling bowls of salad as Jeff carries the roast out on a platter. Megan has not yet reappeared. Denise goes to the stairs to call.
DENISE
Megan! Come on down, Hon, dinner’s ready.
A beat, then a DOOR CLOSES upstairs and Megan comes down. Denise takes her by the hand, frowns.
DENISE
Megan, you didn’t wash up.
MEGAN
The man was upstairs, Mommy. He talked to me.
DENISE
(put upon)
Honestly. Come on, let’s get you scrubbed up for dinner.
We TRACK with them as they go up the stairs and into the bathroom. Kneeling, Denise takes a facecloth and begins to wash a dirty spot off of Megan’s face.
DENISE
Honey, it’s okay to play pretend, but you shouldn’t try to blame someone else when you forget to do something.
MEGAN
It’s not pretend, Mommy.
DENISE
There, that’s a little better.
She puts down the washcloth, looks at Megan’s reflection in the mirror, smiles. We move in TIGHT on the mirror as Denise’s eyes rise. Behind them, the open bathroom door is reflected, and outside in the hallway, sitting in his wheelchair, is the Vet. Denise spins around, and off her shocked reaction we
CUT TO
DINING ROOM
Jeff grabs a baked potato, winces as it burns his fingers, tosses it onto a plate, and then reacts as we HEAR Denise scream O.S. He’s up like a shot, running for the stairs.
ANGLE ON JEFF
on the staircase, as he almost runs into Denise coming down.
JEFF
What’s wrong?
DENISE
(frantic)
Where is he? Did he come past you?
JEFF
(confused)
What? Come past me? Who?
DENISE
The man in the wheelchair.
(impatient, off Jeff’s confusion)
He was there, in the mirror ... I mean, he was in the hall, but I saw him in the mirror, and then ... he must have come by you!
JEFF
(baffled)
A man in a wheelchair?
He takes Denise by the shoulders, tries to calm her down.
JEFF
(continued)
I think I would have noticed a man in a wheelchair, honey. Besides, how the hell could anyone get a chair down these stairs?
Denise gapes at the narrow steps, realizes that Jeff is right. But she knows she saw the Vet; she’s totally lost.
DENISE
He was there, I tell you. If he didn’t come down—
(whirls, scared he’s still up there)
Megan appears at the top of the stairs, calm, unafraid.
MEGAN
He’s gone, Mommy.
Denise wraps her in a tight hug.
MEGAN
Don’t be scared, Mommy. He’s a nice man.
ANGLE ON JEFF
as he watches wife and daughter embrace.
JEFF
There is no way anyone could have gotten out of this house.
What the hell is going on here?
(starts up stairs)
Whatever it is, I’m going to find out.
JEFF’S POINT OF VIEW
As he moves upstairs, down the carpeted hall, slamming open doors, peering into the rooms, finding nothing. Bathroom, linen closet, Megan’s room, the master bedroom and bath; all empty.
ANGLE ON JEFF
Standing in his bedroom, looking angry, disgusted. He starts back out into the hall, takes a few steps ... and stops dead outside the bathroom. He drops to one knee, reaches out.
CLOSE ON CARPET
As Jeff traces the clear, unmistakable track of a wheelchair tire in the thick shag carpet.
JEFF
What the ...
SMASH CUT TO
CLOSE ON MUDDY GROUND
Matching shot, the motion of Jeff’s fingers CONTINUOUS from the last shot, but now the carpet is mud, the tracks are footprints, and Jeff’s sleeve is an army uniform.
EXT. - JUNGLE TRAIL - DAY - JEFF’S POINT OF VIEW
Jeff looks up from the footprints. It’s a jungle trail in Vietnam, narrow, overgrown, thick foliage all around. A black grunt stands a few feet away: a kid, no more than nineteen, his uniform dirty, a crude bandage wrapped around a head wound and soaked with blood. He’s holding an M-16.
GRUNT
Hey man, what’s wrong?
JEFF
As he staggers to his feet. It’s Vietnam, he’s in cammies, an M-16 slung over his shoulder. He can’t believe any of it. He gapes - at himself, the trees, the gun, at everything.
GRUNT
(disgusted, scared)
Don’t freak on me, Spaceman. I need you, man.
Jeff backs away from him, shaking his head.
JEFF
No. No way. This can’t be—
He backs hard into a tree, stumbles. He’s lost. When the grunt approaches, Jeff shrinks away from him.
JEFF
Stay away from me!
GRUNT
(confused)
What the hell’s wrong? It’s me, man!
He grabs Jeff by the shoulders, shakes him as Jeff struggles.
GRUNT
Cut it out, man. It’s me! Hey, Spaceman, it’s only me.
CLOSE ON JEFF
As the grunt shakes him.
GRUNT (O.S.)
It’s me, man. It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, it’s me...
Off Jeff’s SCREAM, we
SMASH CUT TO
INT. - HALLWAY
Where Denise has a hysterical Jeff by the shoulders, shaking him, shouting at him.
DENISE
. .. it’s me, Jeff. It’s only me! It’s me!
Jeff suddenly realizes that he’s back, wrenches free, staggers back away from her, panting.
JEFF
I ... I ... where ... my god, what happened to me?
DENISE
I heard you yelling. When I came up, you were on the floor. It was like you were terrified of me.
JEFF
It’s wasn’t you!
(beat, confused)
I mean ... I don’t... Denise, I was ... here, and then suddenly I wasn’t ... I was in Nam!
(beat, continues off Denise’s worried look)
I know. It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense.
DENISE
(timidly)
Maybe ... I don’t know ... maybe you had some kind of . .. flashback or something?
JEFF
How the hell can you flash back to a place you’ve never been?
DENISE
Jeff, I’m scared.
Jeff takes her in his arms.
JEFF
You’re not the only one.
DISSOLVE TO
INT. - BEDROOM - LATE THAT NIGHT
Dinner’s been reheated and eaten, Megan’s been put to bed, but Jeff is still shaken. Denise, in pajamas, sits up in bed, pillows propped up against the headboard bookcase. Jeff, still dressed, stands by the window, looking out, his back to her.
JEFF
(dully)
I have to go away.
DENISE
Go away? You’re talking crazy, Jeff.
JEFF
(turns to face her)
Crazy? Tell me what’s crazy! A man in a wheelchair who leaves tracks in my carpet and vanishes into thin air, that’s crazy. One moment I’m in Megan’s room and the next I’m in some hut in Nam, that’s crazy. But it’s happening, all of it’s happening.
(beat, then earnestly)
Denise, don’t you see? It’s happening on account of me. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m the cause of it.
DENISE
You haven’t done anything—
JEFF
(interrupts)
No? I can think of something I did. I was drafted, Denise. I chose Canada instead. And now ...
(beat, confused)
... now it’s catching up with me, somehow. Maybe Nam was my fate, maybe I was supposed to die there. Maybe this legless ghost is the guy who went instead of me, or someone who died because I wasn’t there.
He turns away again, stares back out the window.
DENISE
That’s your guilt talking, not you. And for what? You said no to a dirty little undeclared war. You helped to stop the war, damn it. You know that.
JEFF
All I know is that I’ve got to leave. If I go, maybe you and Megan will be safe.
Denise gets up from bed, walks over to the window, puts her arms around Jeff, hugs him. He does not turn.
DENISE
Jeff, please. Whatever is happening, we can face it together.
CLOSE ON JEFF
Worried, but softening. He doesn’t want to go, not really.
JEFF
Maybe you’re right.
He turns toward her, to kiss her.
SMASH CUT TO
INT. - BROTHEL - NIGHT
Jeff completes the turn to find himself standing in the bedroom of a brothel in Saigon, a young Vietnamese prostitute standing there with her arms around him, waiting for his kiss. The light flooding through the window is red, garish. Jeff cries out and thrusts the prostitute away roughly. She stumbles and falls.
JEFF
No, no! Not again.
He backpedals, and runs from the room wildly as the woman gets back to her feet.
CUT TO
EXT. - MCDOWELL HOUSE - NIGHT
As Jeff’s Datsun revs up, backs out of the driveway, and screams off down the street, Denise comes running out of the house, a bathrobe flapping around her legs, shouting for him to stop.
DENISE
Jeff! Jeff! Wait!
The car screeches around a corner and Denise stands there, shaking, slumped in despair.
TIME CUT TO
INT. - DENISE’S OFFICE - THE NEXT DAY
A busy Legal Aid office. Denise is a staff attorney, with a private glass-walled cubicle. She’s working on some briefs, although it’s clear from her face that she’s depressed, unhappy, worried. When her com line BUZZES, Denise lifts the phone.
DENISE
Yes, Susan.
SUSAN
(O.S.)
Your husband’s on five.
DENISE
Thanks,
(pushes phone button, eager)
Jeff? Where have you been? I’ve been so worried.
We HEAR Jeff’s voice over the phone. It has a hoarse, raspy tone; he sounds strained, uncertain.
JEFF (O.S.)
Denise? Is it you?
DENISE
Of course it’s me. Where are you? Are you all right? You sound strange.
JEFF (O.S.)
Strange?
(beat)
I ... I’m fine, Denny. How are you?
DENISE
Denny? You haven’t called me Denny since high school. Jeff, what’s the matter?
JEFF
I just ... need to see you, Denny. Just for a little while. I’m at home, Denny. I need to see you.
DENISE
I’ll be right there.
She HEARS the click as the phone is hung up. She rises, hurriedly stuffs her briefcase, heads through the door into the outer office, where she pauses by the receptionist’s desk.
DENISE
Susan, I’m going home for the afternoon. Ask Fred to cover for me.
SUSAN
Sure. I hope nothing’s wrong.
Denise nods grimly, and exits.
CUT TO INT.
- DENISE’S CAR
She has a worried look on her face as she drives home.
CUT TO
LEGAL AID OFFICE
The outer office. Susan has just hung up the phone as Jeff comes through the outer door, haggard and unshaven, wearing the same clothes we saw him in the night before. Susan’s obviously surprised to see him.
JEFF
(weary, abashed)
Hi, Susan. Denise in?
SUSAN
She went home about five minutes ago. Right after you called.
JEFF
Right after ... I called? I never called.
SUSAN
Of course you did. I put you through myself not ten minutes ago. I ought to know your voice by now.
JEFF
(stares, with dawning apprehension and fear)
My God!
He turns and runs from the office.
CUT TO
EXT. - MCDOWELL HOUSE - DAY
as Denise’s car pulls up. She walks to the kitchen door.
INT. - KITCHEN
as Denise enters.
DENISE
(calls loudly)
Jeff? I’m home.
There’s no answer. Denise frowns. We TRACK with her as she walks through the kitchen and into the living room.
DENISE
Jeff? Are you there?
Silence for a long beat, and then, from upstairs, comes Jeff’s voice ... except that it’s not quite his voice, it’s a little harsher somehow, with a bitter edge to it, a rasp. And it’s weak, a bit faint, as if talking was an effort.
VET
Denny? I ... I’m here, Denny.
Denise moves upstairs, down the hall.
DENISE
Jeff?
VET
Here. Back here.
The voice is coming from the bedroom. Denise enters. The drapes are pulled tight, the room is very dark.
DENISE
Honey?
Silence. She crosses the room, pulls back the drapes, and as daylight floods the bedroom, the door SLAMS, Denise whirls.
DENISE’S POINT OF VIEW - WHAT SHE SEES
The Vet, legless, in fatigues, sits in his wheelchair, blocking the only exit from the room. We HOLD on him for a long beat, and for the first time we see that he is Jeff McDowell. A gaunt, hollow-cheeked Jeff McDowell, his scraggly beard doing little to disguise obvious ill-health. His speech patterns are rougher, cruder; this Jeff has been educated by Vietnam and VA hospitals, not colleges and universities. His eyes are deeply sunken; he looks at her like a starving man staring at a feast.
BACK TO THE SCENE
Denise is terrified for a beat, and then she recognizes him.
DENISE
(scared whisper)
Jeff?
The Vet smiles a tremulous, tentative smile. He looks almost as scared as she does.
VET
They call me Spaceman. I got the name in Nam, on account of the movies I liked,
(beat)
You’re looking good, Denny. Even better than you did back ... back when we were together.
She backs away, shaking her head.
DENISE
This isn’t happening . .. Jeff... what am I saying, you’re not Jeff, you can’t be Jeff.
The Vet rolls toward her.
CUT TO
EXT. - FREEWAY - DAY
Jeff’s car is barreling through freeway traffic, cutting in and out, hurrying home. He comes down an exit ramp, speeds along a residential street.
INT. - JEFF’S CAR
Behind the wheel, he looks grim and intent, a little frightened.
CUT TO
THE BEDROOM
The Vet rolls forward as Denise backs away from him.
VET
You want to see my dogtags? I’m Jeff McDowell, just as much as he is. You want to test me? Go on, I know all the answers. We met in high school, working on the school paper. Your parents are named Pete and Barbara. The first time we went all the way was on your couch, the night they went out for an anniversary dinner and I came over to watch War of the Worlds on your color TV. You’ve got a birthmark on the inside of your thigh, about an inch—
DENISE
(interrupting)
My God ... you are Jeff. What ... What ...
VET
(looks down at missing legs)
What happened? Is that the question? Vietnam happened, Denny. Vietnam and the draft lottery and a mine.
DENISE
You didn’t go to Vietnam. You went to Canada. We went to Canada, together, we got married up there. You taught up there until the amnesty.
VET
(bitter laugh)
I’m still waiting for my amnesty.
DENISE
How ... how did you get here? Where did you come from? And why? What do you want from us?
VET
I just want ...
Before he can finish, they hear the sound of squealing brakes from outside.
CUT TO
EXT. - MCDOWELL HOUSE - DAY
Jeff’s Datsun screeches up into the driveway, behind Denise’s Volvo, He opens the door, rushes inside.
INT. - LIVING ROOM
as Jeff bursts in through the kitchen door.
JEFF
(wild, yells)
Denise! Where are you? DENISE!
He looks around the room, snatches up a fireplace poker.
CUT TO
BEDROOM
where Denise hears him yelling.
DENISE
(shouts)
JEFF! Here, I’m up here.
VET
Denny, please. I don’t have—
DENISE
(louder)
JEFF!
We HEAR Jeff’s footsteps pounding up the stairs and a moment later the door bursts open as he enters, brandishing the poker. The Vet wheels his chair around and backs off.
JEFF
Stay away from her! Leave her alone—
Jeff stops dead, as the full realization hits him. He stares.
JEFF
(softly)
You’re ... me.
VET
(soft, weary)
Bingo.
JEFF
This isn’t happening, this is some kind of—
VET
(interrupts)
Dream? Yeah. But are you dreaming me or am I dreaming you?
(beat)
I don’t give a damn either way. I think we’re both real. I think that back around 1971 we came to this fork in the road, and you went one way, and I went the other, and we got to ... different places.
Jeff slowly lowers the fireplace poker. He’s pale, scared.
JEFF
Then ... those flashbacks I’ve been having .. . those are ...
VET
(hard smile)
Mine, brother. Part of the baggage. I guess they just come with me. And you and me, we’re the same person, right? I could feel it happening ... leaking. But I couldn’t stop it. We just got too close.
DENISE
Jeff-
Both of them turn to look at her.
DENISE
(continues, with difficulty)
I mean ... Spaceman ... in your . .. road ... what happened to…
VET
To us, Denny? You and me?
Denise nods.
VET
You died in a motorcycle crash while I was in Nam. The guy you were riding with didn’t believe in helmets.
Denise looks sick, turns away. The Vet stares off into space, remembering something, and when he continues his voice is dead, hollow, full of pain.
All the time I was over there, I knew I’d be coming back, I knew I’d find you again and make it right between us ... and then your mother wrote me that letter.
(beat, with great difficulty)
I was short, man. I was so short. I shoulda known better, but I wasn’t thinking right, wasn’t paying attention. You got to pay attention. I felt it when I stepped on it. It makes this sound, this little click.
(looks at them)
That kind of mine ... it don’t go off when you step on it, you know. It’s when you take your weight off. The rest of the guys just looked at me. I told them to get the hell away, and they backed off one by one, but they all kept looking at me, staring at the dead man who was standing there shouting at them. Even when they were all out of range, I couldn’t move. But they were watching me, all of them watching me, and finally I couldn’t take it no more. I jumped.
(bitter laugh)
We never could jump very far, huh Jeffy?
CLOSE ON JEFF
For a beat, the silence is profound.
JEFF
You saved them. You saved their lives.
BACK TO THE SCENE
VET
Yeah. They gave me a medal.
JEFF
You saved them,
(turns away)
And I didn’t. That’s it, isn’t it? I wasn’t there.
He flings the poker away violently, and it smashes off a wall. Jeff turns back, angry.
JEFF
All right, then. Guilty, I’m guilty. I took ... the other road. But whatever... retribution is due, it’s mine. Denise and Megan have nothing to do with it. Whatever you have to do, leave them out of it.
ANGLE ON DENISE
as she listens to Jeff with fear, horror.
DENISE
No!
(looks to Vet)
I went with him to Canada. We decided together. I’m part of him, and everything that happens to him.
ANGLE ON THE VET
After a long beat, he smiles gendy.
VET
I know. That’s why I loved you, Denny,
(to Jeff)
You don’t understand, man. You think I’d hurt them?
(laughs)
And they say us vets are crazy.
BACK TO THE SCENE
JEFF
Then ... why? Why are you here?
VET
Good question,
(grim smile)
I’m dyin’, man.
DENISE
My god ...
VET
The doctors never tell you, but I feel it coming. And it’s okay... I lost everything important a long time ago .. . my legs, my girl, my future. Even Jeff. And Spaceman, he didn’t have nothing but some real nasty memories.
(beat)
I was in the VA . . . waiting to get it over with . . . and I kept thinking about Denny, you know? Wondering how it would of come out if I’d done it different. I guess I just ... wondered myself here, huh?
(laughs)
I always liked ghosts, but I never thought I’d be one.
The Vet turns his wheelchair to face Jeff.
VET
(continues)
I just wanted ... to see them,
(beat, smile)
You did okay, McDowell.
Jeff shakes his head, obviously eaten up by guilt. He’s sound and whole, but he’s the guy in the chair too, and his face is corroded by self-doubt.
JEFF
You did okay. I wasn’t there –
Unable to face his crippled counterpart, Jeff turns away.
VET
(softly)
I wasn’t there either. Not for Denise. Not for Megan.
The Vet rolls himself over to a dresser, and picks up a framed photograph of Megan, stares at it.
VET
(continues)
If you can hold your little girl in your arms and think for even a second that you did anything wrong, then you’re the dumbest human being ever walked the face of the earth. Believe me, Jeff. You didn’t miss nothing.
ANGLE ON JEFF
As he turns back, reacting to what the Vet has said, to the obvious truth of it. He’s choked up. Denise goes to him, wordlessly. They embrace.
VET
I think ... maybe it’s time I went.
Denise turns to him.
DENISE
You don’t have to. I mean, you can stay.
VET
(sadly)
No. I can’t. At least now I’ve got a few things to remember, huh?
Jeff reacts sharply, he’s had a thought.
JEFF
The flashbacks—
(beat)
You and me, we’re the same person. It has to work both ways,
(beat, decisively)
I’ve got memories too. Maybe if we touched, or—
He steps forward, but the Vet rolls backward, away from him.
VET
No! You don’t know what you’re talking about.
JEFF
(softly, with compassion)
I’m talking about the day Denise and I got married. Our honeymoon. The day Megan was born.
VET
(bitterly)
It ain’t one way, Jeff. Think of what you’ll get in return. You’ll remember them dyin’ around you. The hospitals, the years in the chair.
(beat)
You’ll remember standing there while they backed away from you, watching you, all of them watching you. You won’t sleep so good, and sometimes you’ll wake up screaming.
Jeff hesitates, looks to Denise. She nods. He kisses her, steps toward the Vet.
JEFF
I’m not afraid of a few nightmares,
(wry smile)
I can always hide under the blankets, right?
He holds out his hand. The Vet stares up at him, then, very slowly, reaches out and takes Jeff’s hand in both of his. Jeff winces sharply, as if in pain. The Vet closes his eyes. Tears begin to run down his cheek.
CLOSE ON DENISE
as she watches.
ANGLE PAST DENISE ON SCENE
The two Jeff McDowells seem to glow with a strange blue-green light, as ghostly afterimages flicker about each of them. Her Jeff, standing, seems for a moment to be wearing a uniform, and then a long straggly beard. The Vet appears to be dressed in a 6os-style tux, then in civilian clothes; his trouser legs FILL OUT as LEGS shimmer into view, spectral and glowing, but legs nonetheless. He opens his eyes, stares in wonder, then RISES from the chair.
VET
I guess maybe we’re both heroes, huh?
The Vet, now standing, EMBRACES Jeff, the strange light playing all about them.
Then the two bodies seem to MELT into each other, to MERGE and become one. The light grows so intense that Denise shies away, covers her eyes.
When the glow fades, the wheelchair and the Vet are gone, and only the original Jeff McDowell remains. Denise runs to him, and they embrace, holding each other very tight and hard. We HOLD the shot as the NARRATORS voice comes up.
NARRATOR
We make our choices, and afterwards wonder what that other road was like. Jeff McDowell found out, and paid the toll. A lesson in courage and cartography, from the mapmakers of the Twilight Zone.
THE END