2x13
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
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INT. HEAVEN'S GATE - CITY PARK - MOMENTS LATER
Doris approaches Frank, Tyler right behind her. Doris reaches
Frank and flicks her cigarette onto the grass. Tyler makes a
face, picks it up. But then he just holds it, unsure what to
do with it. Finally, he pinches it out and puts it in his
pocket.
DORIS
What's going on?
Frank turns around.
FRANK
What the hell are you doing here?!
DORIS
I saw you from across the street. I
thought I'd come say "hi". What the
hell are you doing here?
FRANK
Working.
Doris looks around.
DORIS
Exactly what part of the diner
business involves scowling around
the park with your friends?
FRANK
I-- we're not-- I'm not working on
my job. No, no. Uh...
Tamsin sees Frank floundering.
TAMSIN
We're helping Vi out.
Vi wanders over with the camera around her neck.
VI
Hmm? What now?
Fletcher steps up.
FLETCHER
Yeah. She has a class project.
Photography. And, you know, we were
helping her take... pretty
pictures.
(beat)
Of leaves.
VI
I... I sure do like leaves.
DORIS
Right.
FRANK
But I think we're done now.
VI
Oh yeah.
FRANK
So, let's go back.
Smiling to herself, Doris follows the flustered Frank and the
rest of the team out of the park.
DORIS
What's wrong with the sailor?
She nods towards Mike, who's still a bit woozy.
TYLER
He's not good in the heat.
Doris laughs as we:
FADE OUT.
END OF ACT ONE
ACT TWO
FADE IN:
INT. COMMAND CENTER - DAY
Fletcher and Tamsin sit in the command center, Tamsin at a
computer terminal, Fletcher beside her looking at his small
laptop.
FLETCHER
Anything?
TAMSIN
Absolutely not.
FLETCHER
I'm not shocked.
TAMSIN
I dunno if I'm offended or
apathetic.
(beat)
Question asked, question answered,
I suppose.
Fletcher taps buttons on his machine, not really paying it
much attention.
FLETCHER
Only so many things can create
spirits. It's human in origin.
Souls and whatnot. So, we'll look
at violent deaths in the park.
Suicides. Anything like that.
TAMSIN
Light reading, then?
Fletcher LAUGHS.
FLETCHER
The life we've chosen for
ourselves...
Tamsin shrugs.
FLETCHER (CONT'D)
Still. It's not such a bad life, is
it? I mean, there are worse things
you could be doing with your time.
Tamsin nods.
TAMSIN
I guess so.
Fletcher smiles warmly at her. He slides his arm
affectionately around her and gives her a loving kiss. They
silently stare at each other for a few beats. Finally
Fletcher shakes his head.
FLETCHER
Except when we have to stay up all
night hunting ghosts instead of
doing what we'd rather be doing.
Fletcher gives Tamsin a quick kiss on the nose. They both
turn back to their work as we:
CUT TO:
INT. MIKE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Mike sits at the window, looking to the moon, talking on the
phone.
MIKE
Oh, come on.
(beat)
You can't be mad at me forever,
Jack. Please?
(beat; smiles)
Good! Tomorrow?
(beat)
See you, too. Bye.
Mike hangs up, smiling to himself.
MIKE (CONT'D)
Oh, yeah. You got the magic, baby.
CUT TO:
INT. FRANK'S DINER - NIGHT - LATER
Doris, Tyler, and Callie enter, returning from dinner out.
DORIS
My, my, that was fun. It's been a
while since I've had to keep up
with two people so young.
CALLIE
What? Are you kidding? You wore me
out! I hope I have that much energy
when I'm your age.
DORIS
Don't flatter me, dear, you already
made a good impression.
Frank bursts out of the back of the diner. It's possible he's
been drinking.
FRANK
Oh. Hi, guys.
DORIS
Frank. You look like hell.
FRANK
Then you should feel right at home.
DORIS
I raise 'em witty, ladies and
gentlemen.
Tyler drags Callie aside.
TYLER
(quietly)
This could get ugly quick. We
should take an escape pod.
FRANK
(to Doris)
You barely raise 'em at all, if I
remember right.
DORIS
Oh, don't start with me, Frank, I'm
not in the--
FRANK
Mood? Well, you never are. It's a
pretty convenient set-up, I think.
You just get to avoid any problems
that might come up because you're
not in the mood.
DORIS
I don't avoid problems, Frank,
don't pretend like I--
Frank fishes around under the counter for his secret stash of
booze as he interrupts:
FRANK
I don't have to pretend anything at
all!
Doris rolls her eyes. Callie and Tyler try to sneak out of
the room, desperation in their eyes.
FRANK (CONT'D)
Anything that might shatter your
perfect little world just passes
right through your head, and that's
the God's honest.
DORIS
I don't know what you're talking
about!
She turns to leave.
FRANK
Yeah, you just walk on upstairs.
Ignore me again, just like when I
was a kid. Worked out so damn well
the last time!
Doris whirls back around to glare at Frank.
DORIS
"Last time?" Are you gonna hang all
your troubles on me again?
FRANK
The ones you deserve, yeah. Bet
your ass.
Doris steps closer, grinning angrily.
DORIS
Oh, do please, Frank, tell me what
I deserve. Tell me what I ever did
to deserve all the things you wish
would happen to me.
FRANK
(snaps)
Nothing, ma! You never did a thing!
Not a single thing, when your son
came to you with a broken nose or a
black eye. Just turn back to your
damn TV had another drink.
Tyler looks from Frank to Doris, confused.
DORIS
That was decades ago. I can't
believe you're still hung up on--
FRANK
Just dismiss me, mother, go right
ahead. Ignore anything negative you
ever heard about your deadbeat
alkie husband and how he beat the
living crap out of his kids. Pop
the earplugs, sauce it up and tune
out--
Doris steps forward again, grabbing the bottle away from
Frank
DORIS
You're one to talk about drinking,
aren't you? Rubber legs at eight
o'clock!
(beat)
Fine. Nathan hit you. Is that what
you wanted to hear? Daddy slapped
little Frankie around. Well, boo
hoo. We all have our problems,
Frank. Deal with them.
Frank SNATCHES the bottle right out of Doris's hand, for a
second it looks like he's going to hit her. But he doesn't.
He SLAMS it down on the table and grabs a bar stool, HURLING
IT THROUGH THE WINDOW.
Callie PULLS a stunned Tyler away from the flying glass
shards.
Without saying a word, without looking around, almost
automatically, Frank stalks out of the diner, SLAMMING the
door behind him.
Doris turns to Tyler and Callie, who're staring at her in
complete disbelief.
DORIS (CONT'D)
Tyler...
And Tyler grabs Callie's hand, dragging her upstairs. Doris
watches them leave, tears forming in her eyes. She picks up
Frank's bottle off the counter and takes several large gulps.
She sets the bottle down and stares off in the direction
Frank left as we:
FADE OUT.
END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE
FADE IN:
INT. HOTEL HALLWAY - NIGHT
Frank, knocking on door # 303. It opens.
BILLIE sticks her head out. She looks very tired.
BILLIE
What-- Frank? Hey.
FRANK
Hey, Bill. Can I come in?
BILLIE
Jeez, Frank, you look awful.
FRANK
The carpet matches the drapes
(beat)
Non-sexually.
(beat)
I'm pretty drunk.
BILLIE
Yeeh. I can tell.
FRANK
So. Can I come in?
Billie bites her bottom lip, clearly conflicted.
BILLIE
I... Frank. Now's not a good time.
Frank frowns.
BILLIE (CONT'D)
It's just... I've got a bad
headache and--
Frank immediately turns around and storms off.
BILLIE (CONT'D)
Frank! Frank!
But Frank ignores her cries. Billie watches him go, wincing,
regretful as we:
CUT TO:
EXT. HOUSE - LATER
Frank, on the front porch. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. No answer. He
hesitates, considers-- KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
CORRINE opens the door.
CORRINE
Frank. This is like a pleasant
surprise, but not a surprise
because you always show up looking
horrible needing my help, and not
pleasant because "House" is on.
FRANK
Can I come in?
Corrine pushes the door open.
CUT TO:
INT. CORRINE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Frank and Corrine sit on the couch. There's a bottle of hard
liquor on the table in front of them with a half-full glass
beside it.
Laying on the table next to them is an old, faded, childhood
picture of Corrine and her sister. Frank picks it up and
glances at it.
FRANK
Thought you were watching "House"?
Corrine shrugs as Frank sets the picture back down.
CORRINE
I'd offer you a drink, but you seem
pretty far ahead of me all ready.
FRANK
You go get another glass, little
lady, and I'll teach you just how
much a full-grown, non-Tyler man
can hold.
FADE TO:
INT. CORRINE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - LATER
Frank and Corrine, sprawled on the couch. The bottle is three
quarters empty.
FRANK
She's a bitch, is who she is.
CORRINE
Who?
FRANK
Doris. Doris McGann.
CORRINE
Your mom?
FRANK
This is the bitch.
CORRINE
She just watched?
Frank shakes his head, drinking the last from his glass.
FRANK
(shaking his head)
Nope. She never watched. She'd go
in the other room. I'm sure she
could hear it, but... never did
anything.
Corrine puts her hand on Frank's chest.
CORRINE
I'm sorry.
He shakes his head, drops his empty glass on the carpet
thoughtlessly.
FRANK
Doesn't matter.
CORRINE
Why? Why not?
FRANK
I got the bastard. In the end, you
know.
Corrine sits up a little.
CORRINE
You did what?
Frank smiles grimly at Corrine as we...
FADE TO:
INT. GARAGE - DAY - FLASHBACK
Through the filtered, sepia-toned lens of nostalgia, we find
ourselves in the McGann garage.
TITLE OVER: "1976"
A muscular, balding man, works on a cheap car. From his
strong resemblance to Frank, it's obvious that this is NATHAN
MCGANN, Frank's father. Several EMPTY BEER CANS litter the
garage floor.
There's a radio on a workbench to the side, and "Carry On
Wayward Son" by Kansas, released just that year, plays high.
A teenaged boy, YOUNG FRANK (17), enters the garage from the
driveway, trying to move quietly. But he accidentally KICKS a
piece of metal, causing a loud CLANGING sound. He cringes.
Nathan looks up. Frank freezes.
NATHAN
Where you been, boy?
YOUNG FRANK
Just out with, you know, Ted and
the guys.
NATHAN
Ted and the guys.
YOUNG FRANK
Y-yeah.
Nathan looks sternly at Frank.
YOUNG FRANK (CONT'D)
(nervously)
I mean, yes sir.
Nathan nods.
NATHAN
I told you I was going to need your
help with the car today.
YOUNG FRANK
You said to be home at five, it's
not even--
NATHAN
Did I ask you to talk back?!
He SLAPS Frank with the back of his hand. A small bit of
blood appears at the corner of Frank's mouth as he stumbles
backwards, hitting the wall. Nathan pursues him. The young
man's eyes go wide.
YOUNG FRANK
Dad--
Another SLAP. Nathan grabs Frank's collar and SLAMS him into
the wall.
YOUNG FRANK (CONT'D)
Dad!
NATHAN
Think you can just open your damn
mouth any time you damn want?
Nathan PUNCHES Frank, Frank starts sliding down the wall as
Nathan PUNCHES over and over. Frank's nose breaks with a
CRACK. Blood pours down onto the young man's white t-shirt.
NATHAN (CONT'D)
This is my God damn house! You'll
do what I tell you to, boy!
On the floor now, Frank struggles to get away from his
father's non-stop rain of blows. He scrambles around, feeling
on the floor for something to pull himself away with.
His hand lands on a long, bent piece of metal, a tire iron.
Instinctively he SWINGS IT UP, blocking Nathan's next punch.
Nathan shouts in pain as his fist connects metal. He staggers
back. Rage fills Nathan's face.
NATHAN (CONT'D)
You little bastard! I'll kill you
for that!
He drunkenly moves toward Frank.
Frank's eyes narrow, his jaws sets. An expression we know all
to well. He SWINGS the tire iron again, SMACKING Nathan in
the head. Nathan falls to the ground. His head hits the
garage's cement floor. Hard. He lays there motionless. His
eyes fixed and staring up at his son.
Stunned and shaking, Frank looks down at his father. An
amazed smile flickers across his face. A smile which quickly
fades as he notices the pool of blood spreading out from this
father's head.
He looks at the end of the weapon he is holding. It's covered
in blood which is now dripping down onto his hand. He looks
down at his dad-- he's not getting up. His face goes white as
reality sets in.
YOUNG FRANK
Oh my God...
He drops the tire iron. It hits the floor with a loud CLANG.
Frank RUNS OUT OF THE GARAGE without looking back.
FADE TO:
INT. CORRINE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Corrine leans up on the couch, eyes wide open as Frank
finishes his story.
CORRINE
You killed your father?
Frank simply nods.
CORRINE (CONT'D)
Frank, you were young, you can't--
FRANK
Don't start trying to absolve me. I
don't regret it. Bastard got what
he had comin' to him and there
hasn't been a second of my life
where I wish I'd done something
different.
Corrine nods. Completely understands.
CORRINE
So what happened?
FRANK
Ran away. Lived on the streets for
four months. Police picked me up
for panhandling.
Corrine places a comforting hand on Frank's shoulder.
FRANK (CONT'D)
Since it was self-defense, they
weren't gonna toss me in jail. But
since I ran, the judge thought I
needed "discipline." Ordered me to
sign up with Uncle Sam.
(scoff)
Like lack of discipline was ever my
problem.
CORRINE
I can't believe they punished you,
after how he beat you.
FRANK
But back then a few smacks was just
good parenting, and I couldn't
prove it wasn't just a one-time
thing.
CORRINE
Your mother--
FRANK
Any time you think of a sentence
accusing my mother of doing
something noble... just rethink it.
Corrine reads Frank's face carefully.
FRANK (CONT'D)
And don't say you're sorry.
Corrine looks away, not sure what to say. After a beat, she
reaches down and retrieves Frank's glass from the floor. She
pours him another drink and slides it across the table so
that it is in front of him.
For moment, nothing. Then, Frank smiles.
FRANK (CONT'D)
Now you're speaking my language,
sister.
He raises the glass up waiting for her to do the same. She
does and they clink glasses. They both down the contents as
we:
FADE TO:
INT. COMMAND CENTER - MID-MORNING
Tamsin and Fletcher are back to work this morning. Though
they are in fresh clothes, their haggard expressions make it
clear that they didn't sleep.
FLETCHER
Maybe there is no spirit. Maybe
Mike was wrong, and those kids just
exploded.
TAMSIN
Yes. That's a strong possibility. I
hear spontaneous human combustion
is quite common this time of year.
Fletcher gives an unamused smirk.
FLETCHER
We've been looking for, what,
twenty straight hours now. If
anything had ever happened in that
park to give rise to a ghost, we
would have found it by now.
TAMSIN
Well, we can't just... give up...
She's looking down at the newspaper on her terminal.
FLETCHER
What is it?
TAMSIN
A tree near the murder scene got
struck by lightning in the storm
the other night.
FLETCHER
So?
TAMSIN
Well, Park Services was cleaning it
up and they... found a body
underneath it.
Fletcher crosses the room to Tamsin and leans in over her
shoulder.
FLETCHER
Do they know who it was?
TAMSIN
Elizabeth Gertsmann, it says. She'd
been missing since 1995.
(beat)
That's the same year they planted
the tree in the park, actually.
FLETCHER
She was buried under the tree?
TAMSIN
And not in coffin, apparently.
They share a significant look.
FLETCHER
We need to find out everything we
can about this woman. I'll call
Frank. Extra pair of eyes.
Tamsin's already started typing, and she nods at Fletcher as
he takes out his cell phone.
CUT TO:
INT. A ROOM - CONTINUOUS
CLOSE ON a cell phone. It's VIBRATING.
Pull back to reveal we're in CORRINE'S BEDROOM. Frank lays in
the bed, completely naked, the Strategically Placed Brand
Sheets doing their job covering his delicates. He raises up,
groggy, grabs his phone from the bedside table.
FRANK
Damn Fletcher...
From over his shoulder, can see an equally naked Corrine, the
smooth curve of her back disappearing under the sheets. Frank
turns to her. A perfect expression of "Oh, crap" crosses his
face. Slowly, carefully, he slides out of bed, fumbling on
the floor for his clothes.
CUT TO:
INT. COMMAND CENTER - CONTINUOUS
Fletcher snaps his phone shut.
FLETCHER
He's not answering.
TAMSIN
We don't need him. I've got a hit
on the old newspaper archives.
FLETCHER
Oh?
TAMSIN
"Elizabeth Gerstmann Still
Missing." Says here the prime
suspect was her husband, Paul.
FLETCHER
(leaning over her)
"Believed to be having an
affair..." Are they allowed to
print that in newspapers?
TAMSIN
It was a different time. A better
time. A more... libellous time.
Fletcher smiles.
FLETCHER
So, the husband and his girlfriend
knock off the wife and bury her
under the tree.
TAMSIN
I mean, if you wanna make an evil
spirit... I can't think of a better
way.
FLETCHER
Yeah, me either.
TAMSIN
We need to tell everyone. Get them
in here.
Fletcher nods and takes his phone out again.
CUT TO:
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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.