as that of a Greek statue, and a statue is sort of what he looks like. His eyes are closed. His hands are folded over the wolf's head at the top of his cane.
WEATHER LADY (voice-over)
(continues)
As I've said before and will say again, there's no cause for panic; northern New Englanders have seen big storms before and will again. But even veteran weather forecasters are a little stunned by the sheer size of these converging systems.
MARTHA is puzzled of course by the appearance of this stranger but not really uneasy. This is the island, after all, and bad things don't happen on the island. Except for the occasional storm, of course. The other thing at work here is that the man is a stranger to her, and strangers on the island are rare once the fleeting summer is over.
MARTHA Can I help you?
LINOGE
(eyes closed) Born in lust, turn to dust. Born in sin, come on in.
MARTHA I beg pardon?
He opens his eyes . . . except there are no eyes there. The sockets are filled with BLACKNESS.
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His lips peel back from HUGE, CROOKED TEETH they look like teeth in a child's drawing of a monster.
WEATHER LADY (voice-over)
(continues)
These are monster low-pressure areas. And are they really coming? Yes, I'm afraid they are.
MARTHA'S intrigued interest is replaced by stark terror. She opens her mouth to scream and staggers backward, losing hold of the walker's handles. She is going to fall.
LINOGE raises his cane, the SNARLING WOLF'S HEAD JUTTING FORWARD. He grabs the walker, which is between him and the old woman, and throws it out the door behind him, where it lands on the porch, near the steps.
8 INTERIOR: HALLWAY, WITH MARTHA.
She falls heavily and SCREAMS, raising her hands, looking up at: 9 INTERIOR: LINOGE, FROM MARTHA'S POINT OF VIEW.
A SNARLING MONSTER, hardly human, with the cane upraised. Behind him, we see the porch and the white sky that signals the oncoming storm.
10 INTERIOR: MARTHA, ON THE FLOOR.
MARTHA
Please don't hurt me!
11 INTERIOR: MARTHA'S LIVING ROOM.
On the TV now is JUDD PARKIN, standing in front of a table. On it are: a flashlight, batteries, candles, matches, prepared foods, stacks of warm clothing, portable radio, a cellular phone, other supplies. Beside him is the WEATHER LADY, looking bewitched by these goods.
JUDD
But a storm doesn't need to be a disaster, Maura, and a disaster doesn't have to be a tragedy.
Given that philosophy to start with, I think we can give our New England viewers some tips which will help them prepare for what, from all indications, is apt to be a pretty extraordinary weather-
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maker.
WEATHER LADY What have you got there, Judd?
JUDD
Well, to begin with, warm clothing. That's number one. And you want to say to yourself, 'How are my batteries? Have I got enough to keep a portable radio going? Possibly a small TV?' And if you've got a generator, the time to check your gasoline supplies or your diesel or your propane is before, not after. If you wait until it's too late . . .
During all this, THE CAMERA MOVES AWAY from the TV, as if losing interest. It is drawn back toward the hall. As we begin to lose the dialogue, we begin to hear far less pleasant SOUNDS: THE
STEADY WHACK-WHACK-WHACK of LINOGE'S cane. At last it stops. There is SILENCE for a little bit, then FOOTSTEPS. Accompanying them is a CURIOUS DRAGGING SOUND, almost as if someone were pulling a chair or a stool slowly across a wood floor.
JUDD (voice-over)
(continues) . . . it'll be too late.
LINOGE comes into the doorway. His eyes aren't ordinary a distant and somehow unsettling blue but they aren't that HIDEOUS BLACK EMPTINESS that MARTHA saw, either. His cheeks, brow, and the bridge of his nose are covered with FINE STIPPLES OF BLOOD. He comes to EXTREME
CLOSE-UP, eyes focused on something. A look of interest begins to warm his face up a little.
WEATHER LADY (voice-over)
Thanks, Judd. Words of wisdom our northern New England viewers have probably heard before, but when it comes to storms this size, some things bear repeating.
12 INTERIOR: THE LIVING ROOM, FROM OVER LINOGE'S SHOULDER.
It's the TV he's looking at.
WEATHER LADY Your local forecast is next, right after this.
She is replaced by an ad for Punishments of God 2 all the volcanoes, fires, and earthquakes you could ever want for $19.95. Slowly, back to us again, LINOGE crosses the room to MARTHA'S chair.
The
DRAGGING SOUND recommences, and as he approaches the chair and his lower half comes into the frame, we see it's the tip of his cane. It's leaving a thin trail of blood along the rug. More blood is oozing through the fingers of the fist clamped over the wolf's head. That's mostly what he hit her with, the head of that wolf, and we probably wouldn't want to see what it looks like now.
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LINOGE stands, looking down at the TV, where a forest is going up in flames.
LINOGE
(sings)
'I'm a little teapot, short and stout. . . . Here is my handle, here is my spout.'
He sits down in MARTHA'S chair. Grasps her teacup with a gory hand that smears the handle.
Drinks. Then takes a cookie with his bloody hand and gobbles it down.
LINOGE settles back to watch JUDD and MAURA talk disaster on the Weather Network.
13 EXTERIOR: MIKE ANDERSON'S STORE DAY.
This is an old-fashioned general store with a long front porch. If it were summer, there would be rockers lined up out here and lots of old-timers to fill them. As it is, there is a line of snowblowers and snow shovels, marked with a neat handmade sign: SUPERSTORM SPECIAL! LET'S TALK PRICE!
The steps are flanked by a couple of lobster traps, and more hang from the underside of the porch roof. We may also see a whimsical display of clamming gear. By the door stands a mannequin wearing galoshes, a yellow rain slicker, goggle eyes on springs, and a beanie with a propeller (the propeller now still) on his head. Someone has stuffed a pillow under the slicker, creating a fairly prominent potbelly. In one plastic hand is a blue University of Maine pennant. In the other is a can of beer. Around the dummy's neck is a sign: GENUINE 'ROBBIE BEALS BRAND' LOBSTERIN' GEAH
SOLD HEAH, DEAH.
In the windows are signs for meat specials, fish specials, videotape rentals (WE RENT OLD 'UNS
THREE FOR $1), church suppers, a volunteer
fire department blood drive. The biggest sign is on the door. It reads: STORM EMERGENCY
