MICHAEL
Well, she's... she's real pretty and... and she's got a cute shape... she's a good sport, ya know, for laughs and
(desperate)... she loves fried chicken wings and beer.
FRANCESCA
Isn't that nice? You should bring her home to meet us!
FANTASY ENDS.
Francesca looks at Michael in disgust.
RICHARD
We better get moving.
(to Francesca)
You sure you don't want to come?
Francesca looks at Richard with complete conviction.
FRANCESCA
I'm positive.
RICHARD
I'm going to miss you.
FRANCESCA
It's only four days.
He gives her a sweet peck on the lips. Francesca smiles, anxious for them all to leave.
INT. JOHNSON HOUSE - LATER THAT NIGHT
Alone, dressed in her bathrobe, Francesca checks the front door. She crosses to the living. Noticing two throw pillows
on the floor, she arranged them neatly on the couch. She sits herself in an easy chair then flicks on a reading lamp and
opens her book. After five seconds, she closes the book. She crosses to the TV and turns it on, then turns it off before
the picture tuned in.
She turns and leans on the TV, flicking the ON/OFF switch on and off as her mind wanders. She gets an idea. She crosses to the hi-fi and looks through several albums she got from her Columbia Record Club. But nothing inspires her and she
quickly loses the desire for music. She's antsy. She has this time alone and she doesn't know how to spend it.
She walks through the dining room, passing a china closet filled with fancy dishes and glasses. She stops. Shoved in
the corner behind is an old, un-opened bottle of BRANDY. She removes up, setting atop the dining table to open it.
But when she catches a reflection of herself in the window opposite her, she stops. She sees a lonely, frustrated woman
in a tattered bathrobe anxious to open a bottle of liquor. Deflated, she returns the brandy to the cupboard and exits.
EXT. BACK PORCH - NIGHT
Francesca sits on the porch with a book in her lap, gazing out over the pasture. It's a hot night. She opens the top of
her rope a bit. Feeling the air against her skin, she decides to open it a bit more. She gets an idea.
Standing, she looks to see if anyone is around -- though rationally she knows there isn't a soul for miles. She turns
off the porch light. With a brave and daring impulse, she sheds her bathrobe and stand naked under the night sky. The
air feels good against her body. She opens her arms up against the night sky and moon like an Indian priestess.
Suddenly, she starts hitting her body as mosquitoes begin attacking her bare torso. Thwarted, she quickly covers
herself with a robe and runs into the house.
CUT TO:
INT. KITCHEN - MORNING
Francesca trudges into the kitchen. As if on automatic, she takes the coffee pot and fills it with water. She gets the
coffee and begins spooning it out. She stops. She gets the idea of taking herself out for breakfast and dumps the coffee
pot out.
CUT TO:
EXT. MAIN STREET; WINTERSET - MORNING
A one street town. On either side are rows of storefronts, an old coffee shop/diner, a bank, a medical center, a newspaper building, a courthouse and a movie theater showing CAT BALLOU. The steeple of the local church is the highest structure, towering over the town from the end of Main Street.
7
INT. COFFEE SHOP/DINER - MORNING
Dressed in jeans and a light summer blouse, Francesca sits alone -- treating herself to breakfast and the paper. Some of
the gossip news includes rumors of Frank Sinatra, 49, marrying Mia Farrow, 19: Cary Grant 61, marrying DYAN CANNON,
27. Francesca shakes her head in disbelief at such news.She tries to continue reading, but is distracted by the loud
conversation in the booth beside her:
TWO MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN and ONE MIDDLE-AGED HUSBAND sit after
breakfast discussing the local gossip.
ELEANOR
Oh, this heat! Times like this I wish we took that offer from your brother and moved on up to Michigan.
HENRY
They got heat in Michigan.
ELEANOR
Not this kind of heat.
HENRY
Heat is heat.
ELEANOR
Heat is not heat! There's different kinds! And this heat is much hotter than what they got in Michigan. You go and call your brother and see if he don't say the same thing.
HENRY
I'll get right on it.
Mrs. Delaney, an attractive well-off woman in her forties, enters the shop and heads for the counter.
GLADYS
(whispers)
Mrs. Delaney.
(Eleanor looks)
Did you hear the latest?
ELEANOR
No, what?
GRADYS
Apparently, she caught them.
(Eleanor gasps)
Ran right into them in Des Moines in the middle of her shopping.
ELEANOR
Oh, what a horror. Poor woman. That Redfield girl's got no business showing her face in daylight.
GRADYS
I don't know how that tramp stands living here. No one can bear even speaking to her. She has no friends.
HENRY
Well, nobody put a gun to his head.
ELEANOR
Oh, shut up! It's the woman who's in control of these situations. Men don't know which end is up till a woman points.
Mrs. Delaney acts as if nothing is wrong. Yet, she knows everyone knows and everyone knows she knows they know, yet no
one says a word. She sits at the counter.
MRS. DELANEY
Just coffee, please.
Francesca hears the gossip continue in hushed tones:
GLADYS
See. Money don't buy happiness. I must say, she's taking it well.
ELEANOR
I'd kill him. Him and that Redfield woman. Together. First one then the other. And then I'd laugh.
GLADYS
I'd laugh first then I'd kill them. Make sure they heard me laughing.
Eleanor nods. Not being able to stand it, Francesca rises. She must pass them on the way to the counter, in order to
pay. Eleanor immediately stops her.
ELEANOR
Francesca! So, everybody got off okay last night?
FRANCESCA
Yes, thanks.
GLADYS
What you going to do all alone for four days -- a woman of leisure?
FRANCESCA
Oh, you know there's always something to be done. Have a good day. Henry.
Henry nods back. As she exits, they whisper.
ELEANOR
She's changed.
GLADYS
Oh, yes.
ELEANOR
She used to be so friendly.
HENRY
Maybe she's going through "the
changes."
Eleanor hits him in the chest.
ELEANOR
What do you know about "the changes"?
HENRY
Well, I didn't know they was a secret club.
ELEANOR
Don't talk about what you don't know. Besides, she's too young for "the
changes."
GLADYS
My niece had "the changes" when she
was thirty-one.
ELEANOR
No. What a tragedy. What happened?
GLADYS
(wisely)
She changed.
At the counter, Francesca pays up. She looks to Mrs. Delaney and tries to smile, but Mrs. Delaney works hard at not making eye contact with anyone. Suddenly, she rises telling the waitress:
MRS. DELANEY
Excuse me for a moment, I left something in the car.
She exits quickly. Francesca pays up as the waitress adds:
WAITRESS
Poor woman.
EXT. COFFEE SHOP/DINER - MORNING
Francesca exits and heads for her truck. As she crosses from one corner to another, she notices down the side street --
Mrs. Delaney sitting alone in her own car, sobbing. Unable to bear the humiliation, she stole herself away to cry.
Francesca wants to help but feels useless. She quickly heads for her truck.
CUT TO:
EXT. JOHNSON HOUSE - DAY
Francesca sits on the front porch with some iced tea, trying to cool herself off. It is a scorcher. She is barefoot, her
blouse hanging out of her jeans, her hair fastened up by a tortoise shell comb.
Camera begins a slow move into close-up, as she sips her tea and lets her mind wander. WE INTERCUT HER FANTASIES WITH HER ON THE PORCH:
FANTASY: Back in town, Francesca slides into Mrs. Delaney's car. She embraces the woman who cries into her arms.
-- Francesca on the porch.
FANTASY: Mrs. Delaney's car is surrounded by townpeople staring into it. Francesca hugs Mrs. Delaney closer to her in
defiance.
-- Francesca on the porch.
FANTASY: Mrs. Delaney's car drives up to a train station. She and Francesca exit with suitcases. They are surrounded by
news reporters as they make their way to the train.
REPORTER
Mrs. Johnson! Mrs. Johnson! Is it true Cary Grant has proposed to you?
FRANCESCA
Yes. And I've accepted.
REPORTER
What about his engagement to Dyan Cannon?
FRANCESCA
I said to him Cary you're being
ridiculous. You're more than half her age. He said no one had ever been that honest with him and he falls in love with me.
REPORTER
What about your husband?
FRANCESCA
I'm very sad but Richard said that since it's Cary Grant, he completely understands. I'm also taking Mrs. Delaney away from this town. She'll be living with Cary and I in Beverly Hills.
She boards the train with Mrs. Delaney.
END OF FANTASIES.
8
Tired of her fantasies, Francesca looks up to the sun to clear her mind. It is blinding. When she looks back out onto
the road, her vision is momentarily blurred. Until, slowly, out of the blue, she sees:
A TRUCK driving toward her house, kicking up dust, like some phantom appearing through the etheric plane. Francesca isn't even sure it's real. She sips cool drink & blinks to regain her vision. The truck slows down and turns into her
driveway. Francesca watches with suspicious curiosity as:
The truck stops and ROBERT KINCAID steps out. Flashing his blue eyes in her direction, he smiles and says:
ROBERT
Sorry to bother you, but I've got a feeling I'm lost.
Francesca remains guarded.
FRANCESCA
Are you supposed to be in Iowa?
ROBERT
(laughs)
Yeah.
FRANCESCA:
Well, you're not that lost.
He laughs. She puts down her tea and crosses to him.
ROBERT
I'm looking for a covered bridge out this way... uh... wait a minute --
He looks through a small notepad for the name. Francesca finds herself scanning his body.
FRANCESCA
Roseman Bridge?
ROBERT
That's it.
FRANCESCA
Well, you're pretty close. It's only about two miles from here.
ROBERT
Oh, terrific. Which way?
Pause as Robert awaits directions and Francesca scans a sudden impulse.
FRANCESCA
Well, I can take you if you want.
Robert is pleased, but a bit surprised as is Francesca who anxiously recants:
FRANCESCA (cont'd)
Or I can tell you. I can take you or tell you. It's up to you. I don't care. Either way.
Robert smiles finding her sudden nervousness charming.
ROBERT
Well --
Suddenly, from the opposite direction of the road, A CHEVY barrels by. The driver, FLOYD, toots his horn.
FLOYD
Howdy, Francesca.
FRANCESCA
Hey, Floyd.
He drives off. Francesca knows they've been seen. Slightly annoyed by Iowain neighborliness, she turns to Robert and
with some defiance says:
FRANCESCA (cont'd)
It'd be better if I show you, I think.
ROBERT
If I'm not taking you away from anything.
FRANCESCA
No. I was just going to have some iced tea then split the atom, but that can wait.
(he smiles)
I just have to get my shoes.
Robert watches her as she turns and heads back to the house. He watches her lift her blouse and tuck it into her jeans, revealing her shapely hips and buttocks. He turns back to the truck and notices the mailbox -- MR & MRS. RICHARD JOHNSON. He nods as if he knew all along and begins to make room on the
front seat for Francesca.
INT. JOHNSON HOUSE
Francesca is slipping on her boots when she suddenly stops. "What am I doing?", she asks herself silently.
EXT. JOHNSON DRIVEWAY
Francesca approaches the truck. On the door, she reads: KINCAID PHOTOGRAPHY, BELLINGHAM, WASHINGTON.
Robert is clearing away paper cups, banana peels, paper bags, photography equipment. In the back, Francesca notices a
cooler and a guitar case.
ROBERT
I wasn't expect company. Let me get this out of the way.
He hauls a case of film from the front to the back. Francesca notices his tanned, muscular arm move in one graceful sweep.
ROBERT (cont'd)
Okay. All set.
Francesca smiles. They both get into the truck.
ROBERT (cont'd)
Now, where are we going?
FRANCESCA
Out, then right.
CUT TO:
EXT. MADISON COUNTY ROAD - DAY
As the truck drives, we see no one else in sight.
INT. KINCAID'S TRUCK
They drive in silence. Francesca is enjoying the breeze against her face.
ROBERT
Pretty country.
FRANCESCA
Hmm-mmm.
She looks out at the vast expanse. It depresses her.
ROBERT
There's a wonderful smell about Iowa -- very particular to this part of the country. Do you know what I mean?
FRANCESCA
No.
ROBERT
I can't describe it. I think it's from the loam in the soil. This very rich, earthy kind of... alive... No. No, that's not right. Can you smell it?
FRANCESCA
(shakes her head)
Maybe it's because I live here.
ROBERT
That must be it. It's a great smell.
Francesca wants to know more about him.
FRANCESCA
Are you from Washington originally?
ROBERT
Uh-huh. Lived there till I was twenty or so and then moved to Chicago when I got married.
FRANCESCA
Oh. When did you move back?
ROBERT
After the divorce.
FRANCESCA
Oh.
ROBERT
How long you been married?
FRANCESCA
Uh... uh...
(can't remember)
Umm... long time.
ROBERT
You don't look like a native, if you don't mind my saying so.
FRANCESCA
No, I don't mind. I'm not from here. I was born in Italy.
ROBERT
Well, from Italy to Iowa -- that's a story!
