Season 2/Episode 9: Crop Shy

by Jessica Wright Buya

The trouble with doors is
Lies on lies on lies.
I am (not) afraid.

----

Content Advisories for this episode can be found below.

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

This episode features: Anuja Vaidya as Norah, Joshua K. Harris as Rudy, Pat King as Chester, Krista D'Agostino as Hazel.

Written by Jessica Wright Buha, sound design by Eli McIlveen, directed by Jeffrey Nils Gardner, music composed by Stephen Poon, recording engineer Mel Ruder, Theme performed by Stephen Poon, Lauren Kelly, Gunnar Jebsen, Travis Elfers, Mel Ruder, and Betsey Palmer, Unwell lead sound designer Ryan Schile, Executives Producers Eleanor Hyde and Jeffrey Gardner, by HartLife NFP.

This episode contains:

-Mentions of death
-Head trauma
-Frightening supernatural occurrences
-Claustrophobia
-Being trapped/confined in small spaces
-Panic attacks

SCENE 1.
THE OBSERVATORY BASEMENT. WATER
DRIPS ON STONE. THE DRIPS SOUND
INTERMITTENTLY LIKE A SONG.
BASEMENT DOOR CREAKS OPENS.

NORAH: It’s because the threads are wearing off the spindle.
RUDY: Threads are wearing off the what?
NORAH: The spindle. It’s the bar in the center that turns the
doorknob.

RUDY’S FOOTSTEPS DOWN THE STAIRS.
SOFT SOUND OF NORAH FOLLOWING HIM—
RUSH OF WIND, RUSTLE OF GHOSTLY
CLOTHES.

RUDY: ‘Kay. That sounds important.
NORAH: The doorknobs have been fussy for years.
RUDY: Yeah, well, one day I’m going to forget about that “fussy
doorknob,” close the door, —ah

NORAH: Rudy?
RUDY: Little vertigo. All is fine. It’ll pass. Just breathe a couple
times.

RUDY DOES A FEW QUICK BREATHS.
IT DOESN’T HELP.

RUDY [cont’d]: Ahh, and maybe a couple more.

RUDY TAKES A FEW DEEP BREATHS.

Norah, if we don’t get it fixed, I’m gonna lock myself in
the Clock and Chronograph room and die in there.

NORAH: I’ll find you.
RUDY: (a touch bitterly) Then we’ll be ghosts together. Faboo.
RUDY’S FOOTSTEPS LEAVE THE STAIRS
AND CROSS THE FLOOR. NORAH FOLLOWS
HIM.

RUDY: Here we are. Behold, the random pile of doors! All rotting
quietly in a basement corner for reasons unknown.
NORAH: Oh, look at your dear little desk. I never come down here,
and why not?
RUDY: It’s a little creepy.
NORAH: Nonsense. it’s charming!
RUDY: Can’t say I trust your creepiness meter.

NORAH STRAINS TO PUSH DOWN THE
DOORS. SEVERAL OF THE DOORS COME
CRASHING DOWN.

Hey, easy!

NORAH: Sorry. This one back here looks good— unscrew there.

RUDY: Unscrewing...

RUDY UNSCREWS THE DOORKNOB.

Oh, the inside’s rusted. Oh, and watery. Oh I’m covered in
liquid tetanus. Disgusting.
RUDY WIPES HIS HANDS ON HIS SLACKS.

NORAH: Spindle looks all right.
RUDY: Yeah, could you slide it out for me?
NORAH: I can try...

SOFT JINGLING.

(hissing) Damn and blast.

RUDY: (hissing) Old-timey cursing! Snarkle my leg-irons!
NORAH: Pluck my chicken feathers!
RUDY: That sounds useful.

NORAH: It was such trouble to pluck a chicken.
RUDY: Do you miss eating?


SILENCE. NORAH JINGLES THE SPINDLE IN
THE DOORKNOB.

NORAH: At least I still have my brain.

RUDY: Amen.

JINGLING STOPS.

NORAH: I’m sorry, Rudy. I can’t get it.
RUDY: But it's covered in tetanus water.

NORAH: (dismissive) You have antibiotics now.
RUDY: I'll get lockjaw.
NORAH: Only for a day, then you'll be cured.

RUDY: Norah!

NORAH: If I had fine motor skills, I would have rebuilt the telescope
myself, without the distraction of TALK OF LOCKJAW.
But I cannot, because—as you may have forgotten, despite
my ability to appear and disappear at will—I am a ghost.

RUDY: Like no other ghost I've met.

ECHOING SOUND AS NORAH VANISHES.

RUDY [cont’d]: Can you come back from the ether? I'd love to talk.
NORAH: (d) I can hear you.
RUDY: I don't know why you're the way you are
NORAH: (d) I AM A GHOST.
RUDY: But I’ve met ghosts—lots of other ghosts—and they're not
like you.

AN UNUSUAL ECHOING SOUND AS NORAH
REAPPEARS.

NORAH: Who?

RUDY: Wes, for one.

NORAH: He's not a ghost.
RUDY: Dot says he has a grave.
NORAH: But he has footsteps.
RUDY: You sometimes have footsteps.

NORAH’S FOOTSTEPS BECOME MORE
DISTINCT AS SHE PACES.

NORAH: And he can walk where he wants. He’s not trapped in the
place he died.

RUDY: There you go! Nice loud footsteps.
NORAH: Does he eat?

RUDY: He does.

NORAH: He eats? HE EATS?

NORAH’S FOOTSTEPS GO FROM STONE TO
SOFT CARPET.

RUDY: Oh, stay off the rug.
NORAH: How can he eat? Tell me, how?
RUDY: Norah, please don’t step—[there.]

A GHOSTLY STUMBLE OVER A HOLE.

NORAH: DAMMIT.

RUDY: A modern curse! Nicely done. Oh, don't move it, the rug is-

NORAH FLOPS THE RUG OVER.

-delicate.

NORAH: What is this?

WHAT IS THIS. YOU’RE DIGGING?

RUDY: I dug. A bit.
NORAH: I told you not to.
RUDY: Which is why I stopped.

NORAH SIGHS SHARPLY.

NORAH: You cannot do this.

RUDY: Cannot?

NORAH: Should not.

RUDY: Why?
NORAH: Obviously you CAN break through, it’s merely thin roofing
tiles.

RUDY: Thin, eh? So you’ve been down there?
NORAH: Didn’t get the chance. I died the morning I broke through.
RUDY: Hmm. Related or coincidence.

NORAH: Classic cause and effect. The hole was open, I went to the
telescope, looked through, adjusted, and suddenly there was
a great rush. Like electrons in a circuit, flowing from
negative to positive. It was as if I established a connection.

RUDY: Is that your theory ‘bout what’s under there? A source of
energy powerful enough to unravel the mysteries of the
universe?

NORAH: No need to be so dramatic about it—and it’d have to be
properly harnessed—but yes. A new form of energy.

RUDY: Huh!

NORAH: You don’t agree.
RUDY: I don’t.

I think it’s another door.

NORAH: Door?

RUDY: There’s a mysterious door in the basement of the boarding
house. Sometimes there, sometimes not, sometimes locked,
sometimes not.

NORAH: Where do you think it goes.
RUDY: Well, I think what we’ve got here is a town with at least
one mysterious door—sometimes locked, as I said, and
sometimes not—and this same town also happens to be
crawling with ghosts.
NORAH: So you think...
RUDY: I think...

RUDY HESITATES. HIS THEORY SOUNDS
A BIT WILD OUT LOUD.

NORAH: Go on. Say your wild and fantastical theory out loud.
RUDY: I think the door leads to a place where ghosts come from
and they’ve started to escape. What? Why is that
“fantastical.”

NORAH: You think a physical door leads to a metaphysical afterlife.
RUDY: Not saying the afterlife, but definitely saying a literal ghost
town. A ghost city, to be precise, with suburbs, exurbs, and
whatever else comes after that—I’m not a geographer.
With ghost industries. Ghost plastics, ghost tool-and dies.
Ghost ice cream parlors, Ghost kids sneaking out of their
ghost parents’ house to look at the ghost stars.

NORAH: Are you joking? Honest question.
RUDY: It has to lead to where the ghosts come from. Has to. It fits
perfectly.

NORAH: Except I don’t remember any door. Nor a ghostly
megalopolis.

RUDY: A theory, not a treatise. All the more important that we
break through that roof and see for sure what’s down there.
It’s five ‘til. Let’s cover this back up.
FLOP OF RUG OVER STONE.

NORAH: What will they do when they see the hole?
RUDY: There’s a rug over it.

NORAH: Rudy.
RUDY: And—let’s head up—

RUDY STARTS UP THE STAIRS.

—and I’m locking the basement door and saying I lost the
key. So THAT’s solved.

SOFT SOUND OF NORAH FOLLOWING HIM—
RUSH OF WIND, RUSTLE OF GHOSTLY
CLOTHES.

NORAH: You think you can outsmart them?
RUDY: Oh, sure. No choice, do I? My modus operandi.

RUDY STEPS OFF OF THE BASEMENT
STAIRS AND INTO THE OBSERVATORY
ROTUNDA.

Rudy against the world.
RUDY CLOSES AND LOCKS THE BASEMENT
DOOR.

NORAH: They are formidable.
RUDY: Well, I am desperate. So. We’ll see who wins. I’d bet on
me.

SOMEONE KNOCKS AT THE FRONT DOOR.

RUDY: Here we go.
CHESTER: (off) Dr. Peltham?
KNOCK KNOCK

RUDY: One moment!

NORAH: Good luck.

AN UNUSUAL ECHOING SOUND AS NORAH
VANISHES.

HAZEL: (off) Try the door.
CHESTER: (off) I’m sure it’s locked.

HAZEL RAPS ON THE DOOR.

HAZEL: (off) Dr. Peltham! Time for the inspection!

I’m trying the door.
DOORKNOB TURNS. FRONT DOOR OPENS.

CHESTER: OH DR. PELTHAM!

CHESTER IS SO ANGRY HE CAN HARDLY
SPEAK.

HAZEL: Good day.


RUDY: Hi Hazel. Chester.

CHESTER: Dr. Peltham, this door must remain locked at all times. You
signed a legal document stipulating you would keep this
building secure—
RUDY: I—oh. Did I?

CHESTER: —Dr. Peltham, a legal document. Assure me this will not
happen again.

RUDY: Terribly careless of me, won’t happen again.
CHESTER: Good.

CHESTER TAKES A DEEP BREATH.

Good! Well, here we are. Need a hand with that, Hazel?

HAZEL: No.

HEAVY SUITCASE THUMPS DOWN. CLICK
OF LATCHES.

RUDY: What’s Hazel / doing?
CHESTER: How are you feeling, Dr. Peltham—ah, Rudy.
RUDY: Fine. Still a little sensitive to daylight.

CHESTER WALKS TOWARDS THE
TELESCOPE.

CHESTER: And our beautiful eye to the stars? How is she?
RUDY: Uh, yes, the telescope did take some damage from the
interference it picked up, but nothing time and money can’t
fix! We’ll have it up and running soon.

CHESTER: We?

RUDY: Royal we. I am a king in my domain! Hazel! That a
spectrum analyzer?

HAZEL: SILENCE.

DIALS BEING CLICKED ON AND ADJUSTED.
ZAP AND HUM OF ELECTRICITY
FLUCTUATING. A METAL BALL TAPS THREE
TIMES AGAINST STONE.

CHESTER: (low) She’s just performing a quick structural
integrity assessment. She’ll be done in a moment.

RUDY: (low) Ah.

BUZZ AS A 1980S MACHINE GRAPHS DATA.
DING!

HAZEL: As you were!
RUDY: What’re we measuring, Hazel?

HAZEL: Flaws.
Any cracks, any holes, any flaw at all, no matter how
minuscule or cleverly concealed, will be revealed by this
machine.

RUDY: Fun!

CHESTER: We of course trust you completely, and know that you
would never compromise the integrity of the observatory
structure, BUT mistakes happen.

HAZEL: Silence!

A METAL BALL TAPS THREE TIMES
AGAINST STONE. BUZZ AS A 1980S
MACHINE GRAPHS DATA. DING!

As you were!
RUDY: Well.

Shall I give you all the grand tour?

CHESTER: No need. Many are the hours I’ve spent pouring over these
floorplans in the library. Clock and Chronograph room over
there, yes?
RUDY: Yep.
CHESTER: The annex to the left.

RUDY: Mmmhmm.

HAZEL: SILENCE!

A METAL BALL TAPS THREE TIMES
AGAINST STONE.

CHESTER: (low) And the basement stairs are through that door.
BUZZ AS A 1980S MACHINE GRAPHS DATA.

RUDY: (low) Yes, now, I will say that the basement door is
currently locked and the key is, well, who knows where, /
so—[maybe let’s skip it.]

CHESTER: (low) The dome is higher than I thought it would be.

DING!

HAZEL: As you were.
CHESTER: It’s all a bit foreboding. Well, we won’t be here long.
RUDY: You’re not nervous?

CHESTER: Well.

RUDY: Who could be nervous in a place like this? Certainly, the
basement is quite spooky, if I might say so, but we are
standing in a temple! One to Science, Knowledge, and the
Unknown! Where, with a mere jaunt up some stairs—

FOOTSTEPS UP THE CLANGING METAL
STAIRS TO THE TELESCOPE.

RUDY [cont’d]: (echoing) —one can observe the eternal, ever-stretching,

never-ending cosmos?

HAZEL: SILENCE!

A METAL BALL TAPS THREE TIMES
AGAINST STONE.

RUDY: (low) Once the telescope’s repaired, of course.
CHESTER: (low) It is a miracle how fast the human body recovers.

You certainly gave us a scare a week ago.
(mimicking Rudy) “Don’t look in the telescope, you’ll die
if you do.”

RUDY: (echoing, low) Yes—

FOOTSTEPS PICK THEIR WAY SOFTLY
DOWN THE CLANGING METAL STAIRS TO
THE FLOOR.

(low) —concussions do take a number on the ol’ cerebral
hemisphere.
BUZZ AS A 1980S MACHINE GRAPHS DATA.

CHESTER: (low) “Norah, do what you have to do.” All that.
RUDY: (low) A temporary incapacitation, I assure you.

DING!

HAZEL: As you were!

CHESTER: (politely) Who is Norah?

NO ONE THINKS FASTER THAN RUDY, KING
OF THE BULLSHITTERS.

RUDY: A song. You know that song, Norah Lee?
CHESTER: No.

RUDY: (singing) “Norah Lee, Norah Lee, how I long to fi-ind thee.
You’re my dear departed, not forgotten, long lost Norah
Lee.”

HAZEL: SILENCE!

A METAL BALL TAPS THREE TIMES
AGAINST STONE.

RUDY: (whisper/chanting) “And when your memr’y comes to
mind, I beg you not to flee! You’re my dear departed, not
forgotten, long lost Nora Lee.” No?
All the rage in the 20s.
BUZZ AS A 1980S MACHINE GRAPHS DATA.

(low) Or so I’m told.

CHESTER: (low) And who is she when she’s not a song.

DING!

HAZEL: As you were! Main floor complete! Lead the way, Dr.

Peltham.

RUDY: Where?

HAZEL: To the basement.

CHESTER: I believe I’ll stay up here, if that’s all right.
HAZEL: Is that the door?

RUDY: Oh, Hazel, I’m so sorry but you know, darndest thing, the
door’s locked and I lost the key! You’ll have to come back
some other time.

SILENCE.

HAZEL: You understand that we cannot leave here without a
complete set of readings.

RUDY: Certainly! As a scientist, I say YES, bring on the data! But
we may have to push the basement off til another—[time.]

HAZEL: We test it today. Is that the door?
RUDY: Yes, right this way.

FOOTSTEPS REACH THE DOOR. DOOR HANDLE
RATTLES AGAINST THE LOCK.

Drat. Locked. Sorry. Ah, key’s somewhere... I don’t
remember. No, it’s... yes. It’s on top of one of the
bookcases, or maybe on a file cabinet. Oh, which room was

RUDY [cont’d]: it... Clock and chronograph, I believe...
HAZEL: Chester, look for the key. Dr. Peltham, come with me. You
have the keys to the annex, yes?

RUDY: I do.

HAZEL: Then accompany me, please. Every door must be opened.
RUDY: Of course. That key’s somewhere, Chester! It’s not
nowhere.

FOOTSTEPS TOWARDS THE ANNEX.

Right this way to the annex.

HAZEL: Let’s start at the back and work forward.

RUDY: Very good. It’s an interesting set of rooms—down here
were the personal quarters of the—[astronomer.]
DOOR CLOSES. HAZEL’S AND RUDY’S
VOICES ARE SILENCED. CHESTER’S
FOOTSTEPS ECHO UNDER THE
OBSERVATORY DOME.

CHESTER: Hello?

CHESTER’S VOICE ECHOES. HELLO. HELLO.
HELLO.

And what if you’re already here.
Have you broken through? Are you here? Now? With me?
Well. If you are, I want you to know I am not afraid.

NORAH CREATES AN ECHO.

CHESTER ECHO: I am afraid.

CHESTER: No, because it is utterly inconsequential. You breach this
defense, fine, the others are strong and will not yield.

NORAH CREATES SOFT ECHOES OF SOUNDS
OF DESTRUCTION. THE WOODEN DOORS
CRASH. OLD OBSERVATORY SOUNDS OF
GLASS BREAKING, STONE CRACKING,
BODIES FALLING. A CHILD’S VOICE.

CHESTER ECHO: I am afraid.

CHESTER: I AM NOT AFRAID. We will repair the broken defenses,
you will be driven out once more. I promised I would
protect this town and I will! Now! Until you have the guts
to show yourself, / I am—

THE DESTRUCTION ECHOES GROW
LOUDER.

CHESTER ECHO: I am afraid. I am afraid.

CHESTER: I AM NOT AFRAID! I will find that key.

CHESTER’S SHARP, CONFIDENT FOOTSTEPS
GO INTO THE CLOCK AND CHRONO ROOM.

CHESTER: Where is it.

THE DESTRUCTION ECHOES GROW STILL
LOUDER.

NORAH: (low, distorted, strained) Erhhhhhh.

CREAK OF A REAL DOOR CLOSING.

CHESTER: No no no no NO NO NONONO / NOOOOOO.

DOOR SHUTS. DOORKNOB RATTLES.
FRANTIC, MUFFLE BANGS.

CHESTER: (off) NO! NO! Hazel! HAZEL! HAZEL!
ANNEX DOOR CREAKS BACK OPEN.

HAZEL: Chester?

RUDY: What’s...

CHESTER: (off) HAZEL!

FOOTSTEPS RUN TO THE CLOCK AND
CHRONO DOOR. DOORKNOB RATTLES.

CHESTER: (off) Hazel, he walks! Get me out, / get me out!
HAZEL: Dr. Peltham, unlock the door.

DOORKNOB RATTLES HARDER.


CHESTER: (off) Hazel, he walks!
HAZEL: PELTHAM, THE KEYS.

RUDY: It’s broken.

CHESTER: (off) He’ll get Jamie, go save Jamie, HAZEL SAVE HIM.
CHESTER IS IN A STATE OF SOBBING
HYSTERIA. HAZEL IS FRANTICALLY
RATTLING THE DOORKNOB AND POUNDING
THE DOOR.

HAZEL: Get him out!

RUDY: The doorknob’s broken—we’re fixing it, but the threads

have worn down from the spindle.
HAZEL RATTLES THE DOORKNOB.

HAZEL: HOW DO WE GET HIM OUT.

RUDY: Take apart the doorknob. Screwdriver’s downstairs.

HAZEL: Chester!

RUDY: (to himself) Can’t go downstairs.
CHESTER: (off) He walks. He’ll kill him. Please.

HAZEL: CHESTER!


RUDY: I’ll break it down. AWAY FROM THE DOOR.

RUDY BREAKS DOWN THE DOOR WITH HIS
SHOULDER. FOUR GOOD BLOWS DO THE
TRICK.
CHESTER, SHAKING AND SPUTTERING
TEARS, FIGHTS HIS WAY OUT OF THE
SPLINTERED REMAINS OF THE DOOR.

CHESTER: Ah, Hazel. Hazel, he walks, I heard his voice, he knows all.

HAZEL: Chester, there are no signs. Where are the signs, Chester?
CHESTER: Who knows my fears? Who walks without sound? Who?
HAZEL: There are no SIGNS, CHESTER.

CHESTER: There is only one who walks without sound.
CHESTER: One. Rudy, you cannot
conceive the destruction. We have been
warned. We have been tasked. HAZEL,
YOU’RE WRONG. YOU’RE WRONG. HE
WALKS. PEOPLE WILL DIE. HE’LL DIE.

HAZEL: No, no, because there are no signs,
Chester, yes, there’s something else, but it’s
benign. We talked about this! Listen to me,
it’s benign. It’s just a Shadow, Chester,
Chester! WON’T YOU BE QUIET.

RUDY: Cat.
It’s the cat.
There’s a cat.
Just the cat.

CHESTER: Cat?

RUDY: Yep. Just the cat. And she very much enjoys giving herself
scritches on the edges of doors. Causes em to close
sometimes.

CHESTER: Cat?

RUDY: Yes. Just the cat.

CHESTER LAUGHS THE GLEEFUL LAUGH OF
A MAN WHO HAS CHEATED DEATH.

CHESTER: Oh, wonderful, blessed cats. Oh, Rudy. Oooof. Oh, my

heart. What’s her name?

RUDY, MASTER BULLSHITTER, CANNOT
THINK OF A SINGLE THING TO NAME THE
CAT.

RUDY: Norah.

CHESTER: That’s our Norah.

RUDY: That’s our Norah. Don’t know where she ran off to...

CHESTER: Norah the cat. Magnificent.

I thought I heard a voice. My voice. Sounds of
destruction. Just my nerves—they get the best of me
sometimes. May we go outside? I think some fresh air
would be best.

CHESTER’S FOOTSTEPS WALK. HE
STUMBLES.

Hazel, help.


RUSTLE AS HAZEL TAKES CHESTER’S ARM

HAZEL: Focus. Breathe, focus, walk. I won’t let you fall. One step

at a time.

THEY WALK TO THE DOOR OF THE
OBSERVATORY. HAZEL OPENS IT, AND
THEY WALK OUTSIDE. BIRDS SING, GENTLE
BREEZE.

HAZEL: Sit here. Breathe.

RUSTLE AS CHESTER SITS ON THE GRASS.
You’re safe.
The last two weeks have been hard.

CHESTER: Yes. Yes.

CHESTER IS IN TEARS AGAIN.

Ah, I’m afraid my nerves are a touch frayed. I’m sorry.

HAZEL: I’m listening.
CHESTER: The fear is overwhelming sometimes.

SILENCE. BIRDS SING. SOFT BREEZE.

RUDY: I’m sorry this is happening to you.

CHESTER: I’ve just become so accustomed to peace.

Rudy, I must ask you, have you seen a man, dresses in
black, pale skin, bright white hair, almost—how to describe
it...

RUDY: Like the man at Halloween.

CHESTER: Precisely. You saw him?
RUDY: Caught a glimpse.
CHESTER: That was he. The Revelator—

HAZEL: (warning) Chester?
CHESTER: The one knows what you’ve done and what / you’re going
to do, the one who sows—

HAZEL: Yes, yes, Chester, yes, he—yes, he’s a man who’s caused
us a lot of trouble in the past.

CHESTER: A demon.

HAZEL DOES THE WORST FORCED/FAKE
LAUGH.

HAZEL: Ha! No, no, Chester, come now. He’s just a busybody who
can’t mind his own business. And who must be kept from
the observatory at all costs.

RUDY: Of course.

CHESTER: You’re a good friend, Rudy. Have you ever considered
joining us as a member of the Delphic Order? Lending your
talents? Learning our secrets?

RUDY THINKS FAST.

RUDY: Sure!

CHESTER: Well. Mayhaps an invitation will wing its way towards you
sometime soon.
I want so badly to tell you what we know.
RUDY: And I want to know what you know!
HAZEL: The solstice approaches.
CHESTER: Goodness, Hazel, you’re right. You’re in luck. We could
have you anointed by Christmas!

RUDY: (lightly) Ah.
CHESTER: Rudy, I cannot wait to have access to your beautiful brain.
RUDY: My beautiful brain cannot wait.
HAZEL: Chester, we still need to examine the basement.
RUDY: Still locked. The key’s probably lost for good—I can try
putting the ol shoulder-and-back into it, but I doubt I can
break it down. THAT door’s solid oak.

HAZEL: I’ll call a locksmith—

CHESTER: No need. No need. Anything personal effects down there?
RUDY: No.

CHESTER: Let it be lost! A blessing in disguise. One more barrier.
My dear friend, you must understand. We cannot have the
Re/ ve—
HAZEL: CHESTER.

CHESTER: This... being.
HAZEL: Person.

CHESTER: —destroy all we hold dear. If we are to save it, then we
must seal it—si ad salvaret, nos linio. And a certain
contingent in town is focused on opening, on digging, on
revealing the things which must remain safe and hidden.
Can we count on your help?

RUDY: Of course.

CHESTER: The Delphic Order is a wellspring not just of money, or
of camaraderie. But of hope. We know that you’ve—may I
tell him?

HAZEL: You may.

RUDY: I’ve...?

CHESTER: You’ve lost someone.

RUDY: Oh?

CHESTER: Oh, yes. Tragic, tragic thing. But in Mount Absalom, the
dead walk. Join us, and perhaps you can finally have her
answer to your question.

RUDY: (cheerily) Well! Then I await your invitation.
CHESTER: Good. Until we next meet.

HAZEL: We’ll be in touch soon.

RUDY: Looking forward! Ta!

FRONT DOOR SHUTS. RUDY EXHALES.

RUDY [cont’d]: Okay.
NORAH: (d) How’d he know you lost someone?
RUDY: Everyone’s lost someone. Oldest trick in the book. You put
the dustpan somewhere?
NORAH: (d) Next to the broom.

RUDY: Ah, here.

SCRAPE AND RUSTLE OF A BROOM AND
DUSTPAN AS RUDY CARRIES THEM OVER
TO THE RUINED DOOR.

RUDY [con’t]: Absolute oldest trick. Every sideshow con man knows it.
“You look like you lost someone dear to you, yes”—

RUDY SWEEPS UP THE WOOD.

—“I see it in your eyes, a woman with a gentle smile, name
starts with the letter M, Martha, no. Mama.”

AN UNUSUAL ECHOING SOUND AS NORAH
APPEARS.

NORAH: But it’s true that you lost someone.
RUDY: I’m not ready to talk about it out loud yet.

Sorry about the door.
NORAH: The wood was original.
RUDY: SORRY. Maybe don’t lock someone in a door and make

them hysterical.

NORAH: It did keep him out of the basement.
RUDY: What’s he so frightened of?
NORAH: Not our concern. We should dig now, before they come

back.

RUDY: Now?

NORAH: Right now.

RUDY: Why?
NORAH: What’re YOU so frightened of?
RUDY: That you’ll poach my Nobel prize. That you’ll call the new
energy source Noranium with a “No Help from Rudy”
isotope.

NORAH: Are you worried about what she’s going to say?
Your friend? If you meet her down there?

RUDY: Yes.

Maybe you were right to say we shouldn’t dig.

NORAH: You mustn’t be frightened of the unknown. You must be

curious! You are a scientist, after all.

RUDY: You’re a scientist, and you used to be vehemently opposed

to digging. You FORBADE it.

NORAH: It was painful to think of. I felt like a child who’s been
burned on a stove one too many times. It was a visceral
pain. But it’s gone now. All that remains is curiosity.
RUDY: I thought it was odd, a scientist who’s unwilling to explore.
NORAH: I also think it’s odd that a scientist is not willing to explore.
RUDY: All right, let’s give the ol’ hole a looksee.

FOOTSTEPS DOWN THE STAIRS. SOFT
SOUND OF NORAH FOLLOWING HIM—
RUSH OF WIND, RUSTLE OF GHOSTLY
CLOTHES. RUDY WHISTLES “NORAH LEE.”


NORAH: Did you just invent that on the spot?
RUDY: Man of many talents. Ah, I guess we gotta get a cat now.
NORAH: You lie very easily.
RUDY: I do. Survival of the clever.

FOOTSTEPS STOP AT THE HOLE.

NORAH: Where’s the shovel?

RUDY: Behind the file cabinets.

WATER DRIPS. RUDY CONSIDERS THE
HOLE.

To dig or not to dig.
“Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?”
Thoughts?
NORAH: Fetch the shovel.

RUDY: No harm in taking a moment to think things through.
NORAH: Think while you fetch it.

FOOTSTEPS TO THE CABINETS. SCRAPE OF
HEAVY FILE CABINETS.

RUDY: Chester seems to think it’s important not to / dig.
NORAH: Are you interested in questions or answers? Which one.

I am interested in answers.

RUDY: I am also interested in answers.

NORAH: Then dig. Right?

SHARP SCRAPE OF SHOVEL TIP ON STONE
AS RUDY PICKS IT UP.

RUDY: Right.

FOOTSTEPS BACK TO THE HOLE.

SHOVEL TIP TAPS AGAINST TILE.

Here we go.
Ah, I should text Abbie, let them know what we’re up to.
They are—used to be—into this hole.
RUSTLE OF A PHONE OUT OF A POCKET.

(texting) Hey, breaking through the tiles, come on by.
(afterthought) Love to see you. Send.
TINKLE OF SENT MESSAGE.

They’re prolly blocking my texts. Okay!


RUDY CLEARS HIS THROAT.

RUDY [cont’d]: Okay.
NORAH: Don’t be afraid.

RUDY: Don’t YOU be afraid!

NORAH: Don’t let the fear stop us.
Dig.

SHOVEL SMASHES THROUGH TILE.

END MUSIC, CREDITS.

POST-CREDITS: Fortunately, no one died in the Fires of 1996, though there were a number of injuries
and most notably, one teenager, Chester Warren, suffered severe dehydration after being trapped,
alone, for almost two days in an abandoned storm cellar.