I think you can pretty much count on that.
67 INTERIOR: THE TOWN HALL KITCHEN, WITH JOANNA NIGHT.
The kitchen is VERY DIM: there are two battery-powered emergency lights, but one is not working at all and the other is putting out the thinnest possible thread of YELLOW GLOW. As JOANNA starts across the room, it goes out entirely.
JOANNA, now just a shadow among other shadows, makes her way past the table in the middle of the room to the counter. She bumps her hip and CRIES OUT SOFTLY more in impatience than in pain. She reaches the counter and takes one of the candles out of its box. There are also stacks of boxed wooden matches beside a cluster of candle-holders, and she uses a match to light her candle.
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When the flame is high, she takes a holder and sticks the base of the candle on the prong.
She takes the rest of the candles, stacking the boxes carefully in the crook of one arm, and turns.
Lying on the table, which was all cleaned up for the night and quite bare when she came into the room, is LINOGE'S wolf's head cane.
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JOANNA GASPS, TURNS . . . and LINOGE is standing right there, his smiling face underlit by her candle. It looks like the face of a goblin. She gasps, INHALING A SCREAM, and all the candles the lit one and the boxes of unlit ones drop from her hands. The lit one WHIFFS OUT, leaving her (and us) in SHADOWY DARKNESS once more.
LINOGE
Hello, Joanna Stanhope. Glad the old bitch is dead, aren't you? I did you a favor there, oh, ayuh.
You kept a straight face, but inside you were dancing a jig. I know; I can smell it on you like musk.
JOANNA begins to SCREAM this time the right way, with the breath going out. Then she claps both hands over her mouth before she can do more than get started. Above them, her eyes bulge in terror, and we know she didn't shut herself up of her own free will.
LINOGE
(tenderly) Shhhh . . . Shhh . . .
68 INTERIOR: THE TOWN HALL CORRIDOR, FEATURING MIKE AND HATCH.
The place is dim, lit by a couple of underpowered emergency lights on the wall, plus a few candles, flashlights . . . maybe even an upheld cigarette lighter or two. Through the windows, we can see the women lighting the meeting hall.
STAN HOPEWELL What about the generator, Mike?
FIRST ISLANDER Is the power off for the rest of the storm, do you think?
SECOND ISLANDER
What about heat? They took the damn woodstove out three years ago! I told 'em it was a mistake, they'd want it come blizzard season either one year or the next, but nobody listens to the old-timers no more
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MIKE
(not stopping)
We'll have plenty of light and heat, don't worry. And the worst of the storm will be over by midnight. Right, Hatch?
HATCH
Right.
REV. BOB RIGGINS has followed MIKE and HATCH, falling a little behind on the stairs (RIGGINS is a portly soul) but now catching up.
REV. BOB RIGGINS
It's not light or heat these good people are worried about, Michael, and you know it.
MIKE pauses in his march toward the kitchen and turns. All the WHISPERED CONVERSATIONS in the hallway cease. RIGGINS has touched a bare nerve, is speaking for everyone, saying what the 228
rest can't, and MIKE knows it.
REV. BOB RIGGINS
When this fellow conies, Michael, we must give him what he wants. I've prayed on it, and this is the guidance the Lord has
MIKE We'll listen and then decide ... all right?
A DISAPPROVING MURMUR greets this.
ORV BOUCHER
How can you say that when your own kid ?
MIKE Because I don't believe in blank checks.
He turns to go.
REV. BOB RIGGINS
There's a time to be stubborn, Michael . . . but there's also a time to let go of the reins and look toward the greater good, hard as that may be. 'Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.' Book of Proverbs.
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MIKE
'Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's.' Book of Matthew.
REV. BOB RIGGINS is angry that MIKE would try to outscripture him. When he moves to follow, and perhaps continue the argument, MIKE shakes his head.
MIKE Stay here, please we've got this under control.
REV. BOB RIGGINS I know you believe that . . . but not all of us are convinced.
ORV BOUCHER
You want to remember that this is still a democracy, Michael Anderson! Storm or no storm!
MURMURS OF APPROVAL.
MIKE
I'm sure that if my memory wavers, you'll refresh it, Orv. Come on, Hatch.
69 INTERIOR: THE KITCHEN DOORWAY, WITH MIKE AND HATCH NIGHT. They start inside, then stop, HORRIFIED AND AMAZED.
LINOGE (voice) Come in! Come in!
70 INTERIOR: THE KITCHEN NIGHT.
Lighted candles stand on the table and the counter. We can see LINOGE, looking dapper with his cane planted before him and his hands (the yellow gloves have disappeared again, for the time being) folded over the wolfs head. We can also see JOANNA STANHOPE. She is floating against the far wall, with her head almost touching the ceiling and her feet dangling down on thin air. Her arms are outstretched so that her hands are on a level with her hips a posture that does not quite mimic crucifixion but at least suggests it. In each fisted hand, JOANNA holds a LIGHTED CANDLE. The melting wax has run
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STORM OF THE CENTURY 307
down over her fingers. Her eyes are wide open. She can't move, but she's aware . . . and she's terrified.
I ' Across the room, MIKE and HATCH stand right where they are.
