The Place

Chapter 3-3

ABE looks at JOSHI, then at SWEDEN, who merely shrugs.

ACT 1, SCENE 5

EXT. NEW YORK CITY. DAY.

A double-decker tourist bus passes as ABE, SWEDEN and JOSHI emerge from the front doors of the Macmillan’s New York Register, talking. JOSHI is putting on his overcoat. It’s lunch hour.

JOSHI:

Samantha’s?

ABE:

Not in the mood for sushi, really. Think I’ll just

hit the—the Hudson place.

JOSHI:

(puts on hat, claps ABE on the shoulder)

Hell. Take the rest of the day. Buy Mr. Murdoch

a beer—put it on the account. Get to know each other.

ABE says something typical.

JOSH:

(to SWEDEN)

Straighten him out...

He tips his hat to them, heads off into the crowd. ABE and SWEDEN look at each other amidst the bustle; a breeze blows. Their cheeks flush in the frigid air.

ABE:

(clasps SWEDEN’S shoulder)

It’s good to see you.

SWEDEN:

(returns the gesture)

Aye.

ABE:

You look well.

SWEDEN looks at ABE as though in deep thought. He doesn’t say anything.

ABE:

How is she?

SWEDEN:

(shakes head)

I’ll tell you all about it. Including how I pulled

off getting you out of New York!

ACT 1, SCENE 6

INT. A PUB. DAY.

A new frosted pitcher of beer is sat down by an equally frosty New York waitress. ABE and SWEDEN are drinking beer at a little bar on the Hudson, a few blocks from Ground Zero. The men are laughing and seem to be “well on their way.” They talk about their youthful adventures: camping in the Canadian wilds, canoeing down the Danube, graduating from Princeton University. They talk about their Canadian canoe, “The Centaur,” and “Jumbo,” the enormous supply bag....

ABE:

(wistfully)

Adventures before thirty....

SWEDEN:

Thirty! Before 20!

ABE:

Whatever became of her, anyway—my Canadian

canoe? I don’t....

There is an awkward silence.

ABE:

(beat)

What happened?

SWEDEN tells the tale; how they left for the Northwest after the confrontation with ABE, and how he came into money when his grandfather passed and bought a home and some acreage in the mountains of Alberta. How Lillith and he founded Centaur Excursions and had a daughter, Manya. That he fell desperately in love with that daughter as well as “his own private Eden.” That the two were similar spirits who spent their days traipsing the wilderness while Lillith and he grew apart. How she left, eventually.

SWEDEN:

Faded away rather.

ABE:

You—haven’t seen her? Nor heard from her?

SWEDEN:

(beat)

No.

There’s a bittersweet lull in the conversation.

ABE:

You might have known. That was the way with

her, always. Silent as a river, and as brutal.

SWEDEN:

(appears distant)

Aye.

ABE:

(takes his hand)

But we remain, old friend.

ABE goes on to say how happy he is that SWEDEN has made contact, and how bitterly alone he is in New York City. He expresses his delight at canoeing together once again, and how perhaps it heralds a whole new era for them.

ABE:

A toast! To canoeing comrades, reunited. And

to more incredible adventures!

SWEDEN clinks his mug, but appears suddenly distant.

SWEDEN:

Aye.

He glances at his watch, which gives ABE pause. ABE sees him take a pill from a bottle—swallow it back with a shot of beer.

ABE:

Heartburn?

SWEDEN:

(holds a fist to his chest, stares into the fireplace)

Yuh.

ACT 1, SCENE 7

INT. NEW YORK SUBWAY. NIGHT.

ABE and SWEDEN ride the subway to Brooklyn. The train clamors and rocks. ABE appears about as happy as when we last saw him on the train.

ABE:

We’re flying, yes? Were the tickets costly?

SWEDEN looks sidelong at him, grins mischievously.

CUT TO:

SWEDEN spreads a map over ABE’S kitchen table, taps it decisively. They are standing. ABE’S cat winds between their legs.

SWEDEN:

Here...

SWEDEN tells him where the homestead is, which will be their jumping-off point. It is near Edson, Alberta—remote but not entirely cut-off from rail and other services. He announces his plan to shoot Tiroga Falls, which consists of Class IV rapids—a very dangerous endeavor without pre-scouting.

SWEDEN:

This isn’t the usual tour, as you might have guessed.

It’s the run I moved up here for; a run I’d only attempt

with you in the boat. Not even Manya’s up to it, much

as she’s willing...

(laughs)

ABE is probably beginning to hesitate at this point. They sit down. Much of the trip will take place in the valleys and marshlands of the Athabascan and Whirlpool Rivers, in the approximate geographical range from Great Slave Lake in the north to Lesser Slave Lake in the south—David Thompson’s country, brutal, godforsaken, and rich in the history of the fur trade and the Iroquois; a stark, haunted land. After seven days, SWEDEN’S DAUGHTER, MANYA, will drive to the town of Athabasca, and pick them up.

ABE immediately voices concern about the extremity of the undertaking. It’s far more ambitious than their youthful adventures and they’re not exactly young men, anymore (SWEDEN, older than ABE, has just turned 40). SWEDEN counters with a passionate argument for living in the moment, “because that’s all we have, you know.” When ABE enquires about supplies and so forth, he is told:

SWEDEN:

It’s all planned out. I’ve taken care of everything...

(details)

ABE:

You could have said something. I’d have been glad to

help—

SWEDEN:

Not on your life, old man. I owed you this.

ABE:

(beat)

I don’t know what to say.

SWEDEN:

You don’t have to say anything. We’ve been friends

for 20 years. The pleasure’s mine.

ABE:

(stares at the map in

awe, shakes his head)

Little early for a mid-life crisis, isn’t it?

SWEDEN:

(looks at him, eyes glinting)

Hmmph.

(beat)

No such thing, ‘too early.’

(gets up with a grunt)

Only ‘too late.’

He pauses in the entrance to the hallway.

SWEDEN:

Where’s the head around here?

ABE tells him end of the hall, to the left. He watches SWEDEN as the big man moves down the hall and vanishes around the corner. ABE sits straight, arms at his sides. The clock ticks. ABE watches for him to return over the table and the spread out map; over the back of his empty chair...onto which ABE’S cat hops.

ACT 1, SCENE 8

EXT. ANTRAK TRAIN. DAY.

Viewed from the air, an Amtrak train arcs across West Virginia’s acres of Maple forests, whistle blowing. Inside, ABE and SWEDEN sit squeezed amongst each other, ABE by the window. He seems to be enjoying the experience compared the New York subway!

ABE:

(marveling out the window)

What a landscape!

SWEDEN:

(looks out across him)

Yuh. Not like from the air, is it?

(smiles mischievously)

Down here you can roll about with her a bit!

The train continues on through Indiana, past Lake Michigan and into Chicago, where there’s a humorous bit, perhaps, as the men struggle to change trains. At last they settle aboard the good old Empire Builder, which carries them further west, through Wisconsin and Minnesota, and finally across the barrens of North Dakota by night. The train’s head-lamp cuts through the darkness, like a canoe’s prow through water. Inside, SWEDEN is sleeping heavily, while ABE reads by the overhead light. Perhaps he is reading a book about Northwest folklore and its indigenous peoples. Perhaps there’s a cut-away to the conductor’s POV as the train races down the tracks, visible only so far as the train’s head-lamp extends.

The world rolls over to day again. The train thunders north from Seattle, Washington. There is yet another change over, this time to a Canadian line. The train streams under and past the camera as they push northeast through British Columbia, climb the Canadian Rockies, and descend into Alberta’s majestic pine forests.

ABE awakens against the window, notices SWEDEN is not there. He looks out the window, craning his neck at the towering evergreens; the sun flickers over his face. He starts at a heavy, grating sound as the entire train shifts noticeably; he sits upright. Another train whooshes past in the opposite direction, thundering past in a blur, only a few feet away. It is loaded with logs. ABE presses a cheek to the glass, watches as the trains roar past each other.

ABE finds SWEDEN in the view car, sitting in one of those seats which face sideways against the window. He’s brought him a cup of coffee. SWEDEN appears lost in thought, gazing up at the evergreens, which are huge! ABE touches his shoulder, which brings him around. ABE hands him the coffee.

SWEDEN:

This is why I chose the train. ... I’ve always flown.

This time I wanted to see. That snow-crusted peak?

I’ve never seen that before. It’s a facet of reality I

would have missed; now, having seen it, I see better—

see life better, I mean. I’m more alive because of it.

ABE:

(marvels at the sweep of his thoughts)

Oh, Sweden. We’re young! You’ll see it again,

I’m sure. Lots of times!

There’s a shift as before, and as before, a log train blurs past in the opposite direction, rumbling, roaring, screaming. The conductor announces the next stop—Edson, Alberta.

SWEDEN:

This is our stop.

They gather their bags and disembark, only to find themselves the only living beings in what passes for a train station. ABE looks around, at the lonely, desolate mountains, at the evergreens which tower like sentinels. The train hisses steam and rumbles off down the tracks. ABE seems utterly flabbergasted.

SWEDEN:

What?

ABE:

(shakes head)

I don’t know. I expected something—an inn,

maybe. Or....

SWEDEN:

(gazes off down the valley)

An inn?

(chuckles).

No, not here.

ABE:

Indeed! ... Is there a ‘here’ here, at all?

We hear the sound of an engine far off, a humming roar which seems to emanate from the trees themselves. We catch glimpses of a dark shape between the trunks, a vehicle of some sort, though it is masked by the evergreens. There is a road back there, evidently.

SWEDEN:

Ah. Ah!

A big pick-up bounces into view at last, grinds to a halt beside them. We cannot as yet see the driver. ABE is not pleased as he throws his bags into the payload, follows SWEDEN to the passenger-side door. SWEDEN holds the door open; ABE climbs in. The truck is being driven by a shortish, olive-skinned woman with high cheek bones and dark, cow-brown eyes. Long, black hair spills from beneath her woolen cap. She smiles.

MANYA:

O’Malley, I presume?

ABE looks at SWEDEN, who shrugs, then back at the woman.

SWEDEN:

Abe, meet my daughter. Manya.

MANYA:

Hello. Come on, we’re losing all the heat—and hang

on. This can get a little rough.

They pile in, slam the door. A logo on the door reads: CENTAUR EXCURSIONS LLC. The truck bounces out of the lot and back onto the dirt road. Exposition needing dealt with may be dealt with here, as they rumble through the trees down winding mountain passes.

They pull into a circular drive at Sweden’s home base, a spectacular country estate at the base of the Canadian Rockies, and squeak to a stop. A large dog runs out to greet them, barking, tail wagging. MANYA hops up the steps to the wide porch, is greeted by a man her own age (about 18). He is NICK COLLIER, her fiancé. They embrace. MANYA says she’ll make a pot of coffee; they go in. ABE watches as they vanish into the house. ABE and SWEDEN stand in the drive, breathing in the mountain air. ABE can do little but gawk at their surroundings; it is an incredible place. There is a waterfall nearby.

ABE:

(stares, stumbles)

My God...you did it. All those conversations. All those

dreams.... You actually went and did it.

SWEDEN looks around, admiring the scene himself.

ABE:

Good Lord...what else?

SWEDEN only looks at him. His eyes glitter; his cheeks are red and jovial. The morning sun is dazzling.

ACT 1, SCENE 9

INT. SWEDEN’S GARAGE. DAY.

A garage door is rolled up; sunlight spills into a room. SWEDEN hits the lights, which flicker on in banks. We see a large room whose metal walls are outfitted with tiers of canoe racks. The canoes are draped with plastic drop clothes.

ABE:

The inventory....

ABE marvels at their quantity as they walk among the boats. They approach the back of the building.

SWEDEN:

(takes hold of one of the canoes)

Here. Give me a hand.

They lift one of the boats from its rack, carry it to a pair of saw horses in the middle of the room.

SWEDEN:

(turns it over)

Easy now...

They position the canoe on the saw horses, right side up. It is wrapped in plastic like the others. They begin freeing it from the plastic, ABE at the prow, SWEDEN at the keel.

ABE freezes as the prow is exposed; it is wooden, unlike the others, and finely crafted.

Then, almost sensually, they pull the plastic the rest of the way from the hull. ABE swoons. The prow depicts a n***d woman whose body from the waist down is that of a leaping horse. Next to the image are the words: “The Centaurita.”

ABE:

Is it...?

SWEDEN:

(nods, eyes glinting)

Aye. It’s she.

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