The Weight Of Water Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the The Weight Of Water script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Sean Penn, Elizabeth Hurley, and Sarah Polley movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of The Weight Of Water. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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The Weight Of Water Script






I didn't do it!



I swear to God,

I didn't do it!



Those women were

always good to me.



I'm innocent!



I'm innocent!

I'm innocent!



John, you know me.



I have nothing to do

with any murder.



I'll kill you!




You must believe me.



Is this the man you saw commit

these terrible murders?



It's all right.

You're safe here.



- Jesus loves me.

- The devil loves you.



Jesus loves me...



Jesus loves me.

Jesus loves me...



The State of New Hampshire



versus Louis Wagner.



Call your first witness.



The people call

Evan Christenson.



And what did you do

when you got to Smuttynose?



When I got to Smuttynose,

I went up to the house



- And went right in.

- And what did you see?



I saw my wife

lying on the floor.



Dead or alive?



Evan! Evan!






Your mother looked

a little tired.



She can handle it.



If you're not used to having

a five-year-old around...



I thought the whole point

was to get away.



If you're gonna worry

about Billie all weekend...



All right, Thomas.









I'm looking forward

to seeing Rich.



It's been quite a while.



A weekend with my brother...

that's a rare treat.



I'm a photographer

for a magazine.



They're doing an article

about the murders.



My brother-in-law

has a boat,



and I thought he could

take us to Smuttynose Island,



- Where the murders happened.

- Hey, there...



We left our daughter

with her grandmother.



I thought it would be

sort of a vacation.



Jean, this is Adaline.



Adaline, this is my favorite

sister-in- law.



- Favorite and only.

- Caught on a technicality.



Rich introduced us

to his new girlfriend.



- Hi.

- Hi.



I didn't know

he was bringing anyone.



This is my husband, Thomas.

Adaline, wasn't it?



We've met, actually.



Hi. At the writers'

dinner, right?



- Yeah.

- Oh yeah.



- Hey.

- Hey. It's been too long.



Where's all this go?



Old man lays down.



Come on,

I'll teach you how to dive.



It was impossible to know

that we had    hours left.



Or   ... or three.



This is it?



"...the two women

were discovered in the kitchen,



strangled and bludgeoned

with an axe."



Isn't "bludgeon"

a wonderful word?



One of the best.



Oh, this one's good.

"The nude body of Anethe..."






"The nude body

of Anethe Christenson



was draped with a cloth

as if the killer could not bear



to look at his handiwork

while he sipped his tea."



Imagine the psychology

of a guy who could sit



and drink tea with two women

he's just bludgeoned.



This must be

the kitchen, right?



Where they found

the bodies.



Yeah, about...



over there and...















"Although Louis Wagner

was convicted of the murders,



the matter has been debated

for over a century."



I'm working on the "Oswald

'single axe' theory" myself.



Adaline is hoping you might

read something



for us later tonight,




Whatever you're working on,

you know...



we're not critics.



Many poets can turn a phrase,



but most of them

don't have the balls



to tackle

the really great themes.



I'm not sure I even know what

the "really great themes" are.






Ioss, castration...



That's never gonna be

one of my problems, thankfully.






That's tired,

don't you think?



What about Yeats?



The celebration

of the human imagination.



- The magician.

- Melancholy.



It's all melancholy.



"The room swinging

with emptiness



like an unswung bell."

Valentin Iremonger.



I think

the really great ones



use words in such a way

you can never take them back.



Yeah, they do.



"To separate from life...



from tantalizing mysteries

and salt spray...



from the grave

gypsy eyes...



and the sacred, poignant flesh

of long-limbed dancers,




but not for long."



She's memorized you,




I stole "poignant flesh"



from Rich.



- I don't remember saying that.

- You were drunk.



I don't think I'd ever

use that word.



That's so like you.



You probably read more

than anybody I've ever met.



But you always pretend

you'd rather be drinking beer



- At a Red Sox game.

- Depends on who's pitching.



How did Wagner know

the men would be gone?



Sorry. Still thinking

about the murders.



But Louis Wagner...

the man they hanged...



how did he know

the women would be alone?



He's got a   -mile row

back to shore,



why take time

to drink tea?



And why cover one woman's face

and not the other's?



Axe murderers don't tend to have

the most razor- sharp intellects.



Maybe her eyes were open.

It was the sight of them,



the accusation.



He couldn't stand to have her

looking at him.



So it was an act

of passion.



But using an axe

requires intimacy.



Think about...



how close you have to be

to your victim...



the vibration in your hand,



and the handle as the blade

strikes bone.



The spray of blood

warm on your face,



and standing over her,

her last choking gasps.



If he had gone there

with the intent to murder,



he would've taken a gun.



I think the killer was in love

with one of the women.



And murder was the only way

he could possess her.



I like that.



Wagner... Wagner.



He came into the house.






He took an axe



- And he swung it.

- Oh God.



God help us.






Is she hurt?



Evan. Evan.



Is she all right?



- Maren... Maren?

- Evan...!



Is she all right?



Evan! Evan!



It was funny

the way I found out.



Our daughter

was in the hospital.



Jean had...



I guess neither of us

had paid enough attention



to an infection

that she had.



Next thing we knew,

she was barely breathing.



We rushed her

to the hospital.



It was pneumonia.



She was tiny...

she was six weeks old...



and had tubes going in

one end and out the other.



And she was fighting

for every breath.



And I think

in a moment like that,



you feel hope

crossing over into grief.



Nicely put, Thomas.



And they had her in this

fucking box...



an incubator...

and it looked like a coffin.



What's wrong?






Then someone from the committee

found me in the hospital.



I got on the phone,

they told me I'd won.



Oh, I didn't have any idea.

I'm sorry.



Of course, Billie's fine now...

tons of trouble.



But it was just so unimportant

to me at the time.



I don't think I know what

it's like to win a Pulitzer.



Love is never as ferocious



as when you think

it's gonna leave you.









Have you done something

with the wine



- We're having for dinner?

- The wine?



- It's almost time to eat.

- I've got it right here.



Open it for me, Thomas.

You're the expert.



There was a flesh wound

upon the right forehead,



separating the upper part.



The left ear

was nearly cut through,



separating it

from the head.



In my opinion,

a very heavy instrument



had to make those blows.



An axe,

in all probability.



The only people who knew



the women would be alone

that night



were Emil Ingerbretson...

'cause I asked him



to tell Maren we couldn't

make it back...



and Louis Wagner.



When did you arrive

in America, Mrs. Hontvedt?



I arrived five years ago

with my husband John.



He is a fisherman.



We left our home

because we were told



this is a land

of opportunity.



This is not it, John.



Surely this is not it?









and have a rest.



We don't have

any money to go back.



We'll make it.



The best cure

for melancholy is industry.



And though the winds

blew for days, neverending,



and the gulls

never ceased their cries,



we drew strength

from the rhythm of our labors.



And from God.



My husband and I grew

accustomed to the solitude.



I didn't mind the work.



I never complained.



I was brought up for this.



The wind carried off

our speech



so we spoke less.



And with work, I suppose,

we had less to say.



It is better

not to take the chance



of asking

an uncomfortable question,



or revealing an affection

for another person



that may bring

unintentioned pain.



It is wiser,

I think,



to keep silent

and preserve the bond.



I knew that I would not

be able to leave the island.



I had to bite my cheek to keep

from breaking into tears,



that once started,

might continue forever.



Can you get me

a drink, please?







- Shit! Quick.






Jesus Christ.




Can you help?!






- Something blew this way.

- Here.



- Thanks.

- And here.












What's all the excitement?






Nicely done.






Never get it.



There's a certain poetry

in photography, don't you think?



You know, putting a frame

around the world?



I imagine that's maybe

part of the attraction



between the two of you.



You think so, Thomas?



Makes sense.



I always felt it was more

of an animal attraction myself.



Two strays sniffing

each other in an alley.



You overreached.



I was thinking about

what keeps people together



over the long term.



So how did you two meet?



Thomas introduced us

at the dinner.



I think actually he was

trying to get rid of me,



because I was acting

like a groupie



and asking

too many questions.



Two seconds after I met him,

I was asking him



how he got his scar.



I couldn't help noticing it

in his photograph...



you know, the one in the back

of "The Magdalene Poems"?



Seemed like it would've been

so easy for him to just...



turn away a little

so it didn't show.



But he didn't.



What did he say?



I said...



that I had a car accident

when I was a kid.



The driver was drunk.



I probably read

too much into things,



but I thought it was maybe

something we had in common.



'Cause I put my arm

through a window once.



- We need more wine.




I'll be right back.



I'll get a towel.



Oh, help!















- Thomas?

- Hm-mm?



I don't think he did it.






The murders.

I don't think Wagner did it.



It was the woman,

the survivor... she killed them.



Jean, I just need

a few minutes' sleep.



I can't sleep at all

on this fucking thing.










What's this?



It's for you.

A little company, I thought.



- Do you like him?

- Yes.



- I like him very much.

- Good.



Thank you.



I'm going

to call him "Ringe."



Oh... you have a letter

from home.



- Do I?

- Yeah.



I thought Evan

would never write.



It's from my sister,




Our father has died.



She's coming to America.



She can't.



We have no other bed

and no money for it.



That's all right.



I've been saving some money

for the new schooner.



It's fine.



You're seasick.

Yes, I am a little.






Be careful

with that trunk.



I'm sick from the boat.



I need tea and bread.




how is our brother?



He's well.



Is that all?



Hasn't he written you?



We had one letter.



One letter

in all this time?



I'm surprised.



I thought our brother

bore you a special affection.



He's probably busy.



He was not too busy

to be a comfort to me.



He took me on a holiday

over Easter.



And to the theater.

And to supper.



And we stayed in a hotel.



He's prospered




And put money by.



No doubt he will soon

meet a young woman



to turn his head.



Perhaps he'll come

to America.



Don't be absurd.



A man who prospers

in his own country



has no need to flee.



He's well, though?



And happy?



Oh yes, Maren.



Never better.



We found Karen

a domestic position



early that spring

at the Appledore Island Hotel.



I hoped the work

might occupy her.



- Hi.

- Hi.



- You sleep well?

- Yeah.



Guess I'm the last one up.



- Hi.

- Hi.



I thought we could

call Billie later.



I just did.






Oh, you could have

told me.



They were going to the park.

I said you'd call later.



- Is she all right?

- She misses us.



She said that?



I could tell.



But it doesn't matter.

We're gonna be back tomorrow.



"Hi. We're unable

to take your call right now,



so please leave a message,

and we'll call you back."



Hello, John.



I brought a mate

from Portsmouth



to board with us.



He has some rheumatism,

and it needs nursing sometimes,



- But he's a good hand.

- It's so cramped as it is.



Come in, Louis.



Louis Wagner, madam.



From Germany?



I hope I won't be

a burden to you.



It's no burden.

What's one more?



Louis, let me show you

your room.






Sorry to be so stiff.



I'm afraid you will soon

be looking after me



and my rheumatism.



Do you mind

the extra work?



I never mind work.



May I see your hands?



They're strong.

That's good.



Sometimes it helps

to have my joints massaged.



Would you do that

for me?



If my husband

has no objection.



If he doesn't know,

he can have no objection.



They're waiting for you

on the boat.



It's coming on again.

I can feel it.



Would you help me

to the bed?






Thank you.



All right.

Ease me down, Thomas.



"Dear Mr. Plaisted,



I will be in Portsmouth

on April   th,



and would very much

appreciate it



if I could meet in your

chambers that afternoon.



Please respond

by return post.




Mrs. John Hontvedt."



Aren't you hot?



Do you want to swim

or something?



Take a look at this.

Tell me what you think.



What is it?



A letter Maren Hontvedt

wrote to the prosecutor.



- What do you think?

- Not much to it, is there?



- Look at the date.

- April  th,     ."



That's two years

after the trial.



What reason could Maren have

for meeting the prosecutor then?



Okay, I give.



Louis Wagner

was hanged three weeks



after she wrote

this letter.



Maybe Maren couldn't live

with the guilt



and she wanted to confess

before an innocent man died.






I thought you were

snapping a few photographs,



- Not re-opening the case.

- Aren't you curious?






I want to go back

to the mainland for a few hours,



Iook around

the courthouse in Portsmouth.



Maybe there's a record

of this meeting.



We are running

a little low on wine.




is outdoing himself, hmm?






you all right?



So I thought...



Never better.



"And in that day they shall

roar against them



like the roaring

of the sea,



and if one look

unto the land,



behold darkness

and sorrow,



and the light is darkened

in the heavens thereof."



You're a good cook.



I'm not.



You're right.

It's dreadful.



I must be a fool

to keep eating it.



I think you are

feeling better.



A miraculous recovery,

I think.



You are

a "sister of mercy."



Are you lonely here?




Of course not.



I have my dog Ringe.



Yes, your dog.



Is he enough?



I have my husband too.



Dog first, husband second...



that is the usual

order of things.



Should keep such observations

to yourself, Mr. Wagner.



I'm lonely too, Mrs. Hontvedt.

That's why I asked.



You're too young to be

a married woman.



John doesn't deserve

such a beautiful wife.



I have made

some konfetkake.



- Would you like some?

- Konfetkake? I don't think so.



You are the only confection

that interests me.



Perhaps I could have

just a little "taste"?



Mrs. Hontvedt,

don't be offended.



I only tease you.

You've not been teased much.



Am I correct?



You should go.



As you wish.



I would do anything

to have you.



And did the defendant cease

his unwelcome overtures?



He did not.



Women's motives are always

more concealed than men's.



So you think Jean's right

about it being the woman?



It's always the woman.



I can't see a woman

using an axe.



- Lizzie Borden?

- She was acquitted.



Because    men on the jury

couldn't see a woman



using an axe.



Maren must have used an axe

every day chopping wood.



But why would she

kill them?



When a woman kills,

it's generally a spouse.



For obvious reasons.



But her sister

and sister-in-law?



It doesn't make

much sense.



It is remotely possible

they hanged the right guy.



Come on, Rich.

What's the fun in that?



Excuse me,

but aren't you that writer?



Yeah... William S. Burroughs.

A pleasure.



I read "The Magdalene Poems"

for my class.



What'd you make of them?



Good. Really good.

Thomas Janes, right?



What are you

working on now?



An infomercial,

but don't tell anybody.



That's my brother, Rich,

the handsome one.



Can I go to the courthouse

with you?



It's not necessary.



I want to go.



All right.



That Mr. Wagner

is quite handsome.



He seems to like me

very much.



- Is that why you're smiling?

- Heavens, no.



I was thinking how much

I enjoy my work at the hotel.



Making beds

and washing chamberpots?



Don't be crude.



Perhaps I am smiling because

I have a wonderful secret.



- Secret?

- Be patient, Maren.



You will find out

in good time.



Karen? Please...



tell me what your secret is

or I shall die of curiosity.



Oh, it's nothing.



Only that I had a letter

from our brother.






Did you bring

his letter with you?



I'm so sorry, I left it

in my room in Appledore.



What has he written you?



Only that he's coming

to America



in October.






Evan's coming?



He says he wishes to stay

with you and John.





















- Evan!

- Maren!



Is that woman with you?



Evan! Evan!






Hello to America!



Such a happy day.



We have to have

a little celebration.




this is Anethe.



This is my beautiful wife




A toast

to the new arrivals.



My beautiful sister




This is Louis.

Louis Wagner.




will you dance with me?



Okay, you're gonna dance.



Play it.



Come and dance with me.



Bravo, John.



Please continue when

you're able, Mrs. Hontvedt.



When I could open the door,



I looked out and saw the man

grab a chair with both hands.



So I shut the door again

and hurried back to my sister.



I told Karen to hang on

and we would escape



through my bedroom window.



But she said

she was too tired...



just laid there

on the floor.



And the man

kept pounding on the door.



I told Anethe to hide,

so she jumped out the window.



When I told her to go

and to look for help,



she said she could not.



The fear had taken

her voice.



- I was standing at the door...



keeping out the man.



And then suddenly

the pounding stopped.



I heard Anethe

"Hello, Louis"



several times.



And I went to the window



and looked out,

and saw that man.



Louis! Louis, no!



With a big axe he struck her

once and she fell.






He struck her again, and back

he came toward the house.



Again I told my sister

Karen to run,



but she said

she was too tired.



So I jumped out

the window...



ran down

to the henhouse...



saw the little dog...



and I thought to row away,

but could not find a boat.



So I ran to find

some rocks,



to hide myself away

from that man.



And is that man

among us today?



If it so please the law,



I shall with my heart

and soul and sound mind,



speak of the true

and actual tale



of that incident

which continues to haunt me.



I make this statement

not in defense of myself,



for what defense have those

who still live, breathe and eat



and partake of the Lord's




against those who have been

so cruelly struck down,



in such a way as I can hardly

bear to recall?



I can't do this.



What is it?



I don't know.

I can't do this here.



It's not you, Thomas.

It's me.



Hold me, please.



Something's gonna happen.



I believe it was

God's hands that caused me



to realize that I must

somehow survive my ordeal



so that I would one day

be reunited with my brother.



I vowed to keep as still

and as silent as possible



so that the stormy motions

that threatened to consume me



might come

under my control.



If you hurry,

you can catch John



before they sail off

for Portsmouth.



This island

has everything I need.



My wife is here.



That is all I ever need

or want.



And my sister

is here, too.



I don't need the distraction

of the city.



I am content to stay here

and bait the trawls



and think about

my good fortune.



You and Anethe

are settling in well?



Isn't it obvious

how happy she is?



She's... very agreeable.



And also pleasant

to look upon.



But Anethe has a lot to learn

about keeping a house.



But I've brought her

to a good teacher.



You've turned yourself

into a first-rate cook.



I'll go fat from it.



And with any luck,

you'll soon be fat yourself.



Is that so?



I only mean that one day

you may give us all good news.



What is it?



I cannot have a child.



Are you sure of this,




Have you been

to a doctor?



I have no need

of doctors.



Three years have been

proof enough.



To tell the truth,

I'm not so surprised.



I have suspected

all my life.



Or at least since...



You remember?



You remember,

don't you?



Yes... yes, of course

I remember.



I have thought the simultaneous

onset of my womanhood...



These are not matters

of which



a brother and sister

should speak.



These are private matters.



I would never do anything

to upset you.



Is your marriage

a happy one?



We have managed.



No... I mean in the matter

of a child.



You mean, does my husband put

his seed in me with regularity?



For God's sake,

have some dignity.



Evan, I'm so sorry.

Please forgive me.



Please forgive me.



Sometimes I think

I'll go mad.



Good morning, Maren.



So, I must go bait

the trawls.



Forgive me

for being so late.



May I have some cheese

and sausage



from yesterday's dinner

for my breakfast?






Poor Maren.



Why did I leave

the broom lying?



I'll get the mop.



I've ruined your floor,

didn't I?



I'm just useless




Can you forgive me?



I fear I'll never be

the kind of wife you are.



Evan speaks

so highly of you.



I'll clean it up.

Let me do something to help you.



It's no trouble.




Can't I be useful somehow?



Our boarder with sore joints

was asking for you



to come to his room

and read to him.



You want me to go to read

to Louis Wagner?



In his room?



He can't walk,




So if he's to be read to

it will have to be in his room.



The book's there

by the front door.






I have come

to read to you.



Thank you.













you poor thing.












Hush. You don't

have to tell me.



I'll tell John

he stole provisions.



He'll be off the island

in the morning.



If you ever told Evan,



he would murder Louis.



He would be hanged.

Do you understand?



You are so good to me.






You must rest.



It's not enough

to live off my charity,



you steal

from me as well?



I never touched a dime

of yours, John Hontvedt.



You calling my wife

a liar?



As God is my witness, I don't

know why she'd say such a thing.



Get out of my sight.



Get out of my sight!




From now on you have

to earn an honest living!



"Though they go mad



they shall be sane.



Though they sink

through the sea,



they shall rise again.



Though lovers be lost...



Iove shall not,



And death shall have

no dominion."



Dylan Thomas.



We met in a bar



where he was

giving a reading.



I didn't know

it was "Poets' Night."



That morning I had

my first assignment,



taking pictures

of a bloody corpse



the police had fished

out of the Charles.



Perfect preparation

for meeting me.



I think what Thomas

liked about me



was that I'd never

heard of him.



Rich, they look fantastic.



Had you really

never heard of him?



No, I was more of a visual

person, I suppose.



I didn't read poetry.



Anyway, I went on

about my work



never asking Thomas

a thing,



telling him about

this photograph I'd taken once.



It was a father pulling

his son from an icy pond.



In the picture, you see the man

lying down on the ice,



his hands

clasping the boy's,



and both of them

have their eyes closed.



And then Thomas said

the most remarkable thing.



Do you remember?






Come on.




I don't remember.



He said that my work and his

are very much the same...



we're both trying

to stop time.



- I never said that.

- That's exactly what you said.



- It's pretentious shit.

- No it's not. It's lovely.



If I did say that,



I was just trying

to get into your pants.



I wonder what moment

it was I might have altered.



What movement, left or right,

might have changed fate.



Perhaps I could have done it

with a word... a thought.



It was good of you

to do this for Jean.



She needed the time away.



Maybe everybody would've been

happier if I'd stayed home, too.



You serious about her?



You know me, Thomas,

I never get serious.



I leave that to the romantic

in the family.



I'm a romantic?



I guess you have to be

to write the way you do.




the consequences.



Jean knew what

she signed up for



when she got together

with me.



She knows better

than anybody.



Talent excuses cruelty.



Don't you know that?



Not talent...



genius, maybe.



You're talented, Thomas.



The world is full

of talented assholes.






Even a hack can spin something

out of a sunset like that, huh?



I don't even carry

a pen anymore.



How long have you been

interested in Thomas' poetry?



I think I've

always read Thomas.



After the prize,

I guess everyone does, huh?



Not with such

sensitivity, no.



- You're joking with me, right?

- No. I'm absolutely serious.



It's obvious he enjoys

talking to you about his work.



Not that he actually

writes much anymore.



"Blocked" is a cliché

you'll never hear him stoop to.



Oh. I wondered

about that.



You know

he killed a girl?



Thomas killed a girl?



I don't understand.



I don't understand.



When the car accident...

his scar, you know...



Thomas was driving.



There was a girl

in the car with him,



and Thomas went off

the road,



caught his rear wheel

in a ditch and flipped over.



She died.

They were   .



Was he drunk?






So the poems were about her...

"The Magdalene Poems"?



An examination...



of a   -year-old girl



in the last four seconds

of her life.



"To separate from life,



From tantalizing mysteries

and salt spray...



from grave gypsy eyes



and the sacred poignant flesh

of long-limbed dancers.



A cross...



A cross, my shield

on the altar of her neck."



But her name wasn't Magdalene.

It was Linda.



Hmm, Linda.



And he loved her?



Very much.



I don't think he's

ever gotten over it.



In a way, all the poems

are about the accident



even when they

don't seem to be.



But he married you.



Well, Linda was dead,

you see?



And I hadn't the faintest idea

who Thomas was.



Why did you tell me this?



Don't you want to know?



What's up?



Not much.



God, I can't have

done all this.



Don't touch the dishes,

all right?



I'll be back to do them

in a moment.






- Thomas?

- What?



You're trembling.



Take my coat.



Thank you.






don't you dare sail off

to Portsmouth without my list.



Calm yourself.

We're just doing our chores.



We'll be back to eat

before we go out.



What makes you think

you can beat this wind?



And for God's sake,

don't forget to take



Karen back

to the Appledore.



She's not comfortable

sleeping in the kitchen.



It's wonderful...

having company.



It's ludicrous to sit

in your bonnet doing nothing.



The men aren't taking you

for hours.



Please, don't quarrel.



Not on this day.



What day?



Oh, sisters,



you must swear yourselves

to secrecy.



I have not even

told my husband.




my dear.



- Is it too soon to be decent?

- How can you be sure?



I am two months late.

January and February.



Perhaps it is the cold.



It is the cold that makes us

seek each other's warmth.



I'm so happy for you.









I knew it.

They couldn't beat that wind.



They've gone straight

into Portsmouth.



What am I to do all day

dressed in these clothes?



It's a good question.

So, that is that.



The men will not

be back tonight.



This kind of wind

dies in the evening.



Unless they are at the harbor,

sails will not fill.



I cannot bear

to spend the night alone.



You won't be alone.



You're with Karen and me.



I now encounter my most

difficult task of all...



which is that

of confronting the events



of the  th of March,     .



It is not that I do not

remember details of events,



for I do...

too vividly.



The colors sharp

and garish;



sounds heightened and abrasive,

as in a terrible dream



that one has over and over

and cannot escape.



The longer they stay away,

the fewer chores we have to do.



I'm hungry.



Should have eaten

your supper.



I've just cleaned up

the kitchen.






Can I spend the night

in your bed?



I am cold

and afraid.



Don't be silly.



Perfectly safe

and warm in your room.






I know it's childish,

but please?






Just let the fire

burn down.



Oh, Maren,



you are so watchful

over us.



Like a mother hen.



Your face feels

so warm.



Do you have a headache?






Is that better?






Do you not miss John?



The attentions?



Sometimes it's hard

to sit in a kitchen



till it is time

for bed.



Do you do it

every night?






Us too.



Turn over.



Take off your nightgown.



My nightgown?



I want to rub

your back.









Is that good?






I love you, Maren.



Did I hurt you?






I love you too,




I have discovered in my life



that it is not always for us

to know the nature of God,



or why he may bring

in one night



pleasure and death

and rage and tenderness,



all intermingled,



so that one can barely

distinguish one from the other.



And it is all that one can do

to hang on to sanity.



- Sorry. I didn't mean to...

- Oh, Jesus Christ!



I can't believe you swam

all the way out here.



I had to.

Somebody stole the Zodiac.



Here. God, you must be freezing.

There you go.



You're crying.



- No, no I'm not.

- What are you up to here?



My God...!



I just needed

to take a few more pictures.



In the dark?



The murders happened

in the dark.



What's this?



It's Maren Hontvedt's

statement to the prosecutor.



Looks like the original.



I sort of "borrowed" it

without permission.



It's not like you.



What am I like,




Go back to bed.



You all right?



- Yeah.

- Where you been?



I went to the island

to get a few more shots.



I came back the moment

it started to rain.



The other boats left

   minutes ago.



I don't know

what's going on.



Where's Adaline?



Still sleeping.



Here, would you

take this line?



How'd you sleep?



- What's going on?

- What's going on with you?



Is it really bad?



...indicated by Doppler radar.



Category IV conditions,

including heavy rain,



tidal flooding and winds

above    miles an hour



are being reported

along the coast...



We've got a front coming in

faster than I thought.






- You all right?

- Yeah.



Listen... the wind alone

could put us on the rocks.



So I'm gonna motor in,

same as the other boats did.



Even if we get caught

out there



we'll be better

than in here.



- Thomas?

- Yeah?



I need you to put sail ties

on the main, all right?






- Jean?

- Yeah?



You and Adaline lock down

anything that can move...



binoculars, camera, drawers...

anything that can shift.



There are extra bungee cords

in here if you need them.



Anything you don't

want to get wet,



put inside a plastic bag

and seal it.



- Jean?

- Yeah?



If this bilge pump stops

running, come get me, okay?



Here, put these on

right now.



I'm going up.



You two gonna be

all right?






I've never been

in a storm before.



We'll be all right.



Did Rich help you last night

with your photographs?



You were gone a while.



I needed to get a few

more shots. He just swam out.



I guess he got worried

and came to check on me.



I wanted to meet you,




That's why I came.



Thomas has told me

a lot about you.



Thank God.



I thought a husband might

cure you of perversion,



but I see you have only

grown more depraved.



You don't understand.

I was cold.



So you take off

your nightgown?



- Please.

- Do you think me a fool?



- What is it?

- Oh, poor thing.



I had hoped to spare you this

for your own sweet sake.






But now that Maren

has corrupted you as well...



- Stop it.

- She lay with your husband.



- Stop it, Karen.

- Her only brother!



Her sins could only be stopped

by sending her to America.



- It's not true, is it?

- I loved him as you do.



It was sickness,

not love!



When your husband knows,




Maren! Oh, my God!



You don't think

to scare me...?






Rich! Rich!



Rich, there's water

on the floor.



- What's wrong?

- We've lost power.



- I'll tell Rich!

- What's happened to your face?



- It's rough out there!

- Thomas, I wanna talk to you!



Where's Adaline?



She's seasick.

She went to lie down.



Rich, there's water

over the teak.



- What?

- There's water over the teak!



Check the bilge pump!



Get out of the way.



We've lost the engine.



Jean, can you come take

the wheel for a moment?



Come up and I'll show you

what to do.



- Thomas?

- The sooner the better.






For God's sake, Jean,

take the wheel!



Thomas, I love you.



Take the wheel!




Keep the seas behind you

like they are now.



Whatever you do, don't let

the waves get to the side.



You'll be fine.

Take the wheel.






Here, put these on.



Damn it, hold tighter.

- I'm holding as tight as I can.



- How bad is this?

- If we get water in that line,



we're fucked...

do you understand me?







You need a vest!















- Maren, please...!

- I never wanted you to know.






Oh, please!



I'm so sorry.






No one can say

with any certainty,



unless he has lived

through such an experience,



how he will react when rage

overtakes the body and mind...



"...the anguish so swift

and so piercing,



an attack of all the senses,



like a sudden bite

on the hand."




Get off the bow!




Adeline! Adaline!



Get off the bow!




Give me your hand!



Oh... oh...



There he is!






And is that man

among us today?



Silence! Silence!



Silence! Silence in court!



Hang him! Hang him!






Jean, Jean, Jean...



Louis Wagner...



you have been found guilty

of murder in the first degree.



You are to be taken to

the state prison at Thomaston,



there to be hanged by the neck

until death ensues.



Thomas, Thomas...



This is my idea.

My brother-in-law has a boat.



I thought he could take us

to Smuttynose Island



where the murders happened.



We left our daughter

with her grandmother.



I thought it would be

sort of a vacation.



It's one of those lies

we all believe...



that you can mix business

with pleasure.



The prosecutor

will see you now.



Mrs. Hontvedt.

It's been quite some time.



I've come to make

a statement about the murders.



"The Lord is my Shepherd,



I shall not want.



He maketh me to lie down

in green pastures.



He leadeth me beside

the still waters.



He restoreth my soul.



He leadeth me in the paths

of righteousness



for His name's sake.



Yea, though I walk

through the valley



of the shadow of death.

I will fear no evil,



for Thou art with me.



Thy rod and Thy staff

they comfort me..."



God is good. He cannot let

an innocent man suffer.



Louis Wagner is innocent.



God forgive me

for letting you hang him.






Woman are

naturally unstable, of course.



- Not always to be believed.

Quite true, sir.



We must respect

the jury's decision.



Is that understood?



There are times

in your life when you sense



that something

is about to happen.



And at the same time

you realize it already has.



They say it's also true

of dying.



You can see your life

in an instant,



beginning with birth and ending

with total knowledge.



"Though they sink

through the sea,



they shall rise again.



Though lovers be lost...



Iove shall not."



I believe

that in the darkest hour,



God may restore faith

and offer salvation.



Toward dawn,

in that cave,



I began to pray

for the first time



since Evan had spoken

harshly to me.



These were prayers

that sprang from tears



shed in the blackest moments

of my wretchedness.



I prayed for the souls

of Karen and Anethe,



and for Evan,



who would walk up the path

to the cottage in a few hours



and wonder why his bride

did not greet him at the cove.



And again for Evan, who would

stagger away from that cottage



and that island,

and never return again.



And I also prayed

for myself,



who did not understand

the visions God had given me.


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