The Midnight Sun

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THE AFTER HOURS	WALKING DISTANCE	TIME ENOUGH AT LAST	THE ODYSSEY OF FLIGHT 33	THE MONSTERS ARE DUE ON MAPLE ST.
THE MIDNIGHT SUN	NIGHT OF THE MEEK	A STOP AT WILLOUGHBY	DEATHS-HEAD REVISITED	IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

THE MIDNIGHT SUN
Originally Broadcast November 17, 1961

FADE ON:

1. Standard road opening: With vehicle smashing into letters, propulsion into starry night then PAN DOWN TO OPENING SHOT OF PLAY.

2. New York apartment house: On an empty street, then a

DISSOLVE TO:

3. Int. Norma Smith's apartment: A one-room efficiency, flanked by oils and watercolors, some finished, some partially finished, some in frames, others not. Norma is in her twenties and wears an artist's smock. She paints rapidly with bold strokes and vivid, brilliant colors, pausing every now and then to wipe the perspiration away from her forehead. After a moment she puts the brush and palette down, unbuttons the smock, turns and slowly walks over to the window to stare out.

4. Long shot through the window (film clip, the sun): It is a fourth- or fifth-floor view. This shot is important because the sun we see is not a normal sun. It's too big, too hot, too enveloping.

5. Pan back from the window over to a clock: Which reads, "11:45." Norma, when she leaves the window, looks at the clock briefly, then walks over to the refrigerator, opens it, takes out a milk bottle that is full of water. She takes a glass and very carefully pours part of the water into it, returns the bottle to the refrigerator and closes the door. Then she drinks very slowly of the water, obviously careful not to spill and not to drink too fast, almost as if it were not water, but some kind of rare wine that had to be thoughtfully savored. She hears footsteps outside, turns and goes over to the door, still holding the glass, pauses by the door for an instant listening, then opens the door.

6. Angle shot looking down at her feet: A tiny child stands there, a little girl about four whose eyes fix themselves on her glass of water.

7. Insert close shot glass of water: In Norma's hand.

8. Different angle Norma: As with some thought, she kneels down and starts to give the child a drink. The little girl's father voice cuts in and the child backs away, frightened.

9. Angle shot looking up at the father: Coming down the stairs. He's a big, burly guy and he's carrying a suitcase. Behind him is his wife. Both of them are matted and drenched with perspiration.

Neighbor: Susie! Don't take the lady's water!

Norma: It's all right, Mr. Schuster. I have plenty.

By this time the man reaches the bottom of the stairs. He now urgently moves the little girl to his side.

Neighbor (shaking his head): Nobody has plenty.
(then he turns to the other apartment across the hall, knocks on the door): Mrs. Bronson? We're leaving now.

The door opens and a middle-aged woman stands there. She wears a summer cotton that, like everything else, is wilting from the heat.

Mrs. Bronson: Did you get gas?

Neighbor: I got twelve gallons. I figure that'll take us at least to Buffalo.

Norma: Where are you going?

Neighbor's Wife: We're trying to get to Toronto. Mr. Schuster has a cousin there.

Mrs. Bronson (reaching down to stroke the little girl's hair): I'm not sure it's wise your trying to do this. The highways are still packed. Bumper to bumper, the radio says. Even with the gas shortage and everything-

Neighbor: I know that, but...well, we gotta try anyway. We just wanted to say goodbye. We've enjoyed living here, Mrs. Bronson. You've been real kind.
(then a little curtly to his wife): Let's go, honey.

He picks up the suitcase that he'd laid down and, holding tight to the little girl's hand, followed by his wife, he goes down the stairs. Mrs. Bronson moves over to the top of the stairs and waves after them.

Mrs. Bronson: Good luck. Safe trip.

10. Closer angle of her: As she turns away thoughtfully and looks across at Norma, then up toward the stairs and around the hall.

Mrs. Bronson (very softly): And now we are two.

Norma (nodding toward the door): They were the last?

Mrs. Bronson (nods): The last. Building's empty now except for you and me.

There's the sound of footsteps from inside Mrs. Bronson's apartment. A dungareed repairman carrying a tool kit comes out into the hall.

Repairman: She's running again, Mrs. Bronson. I wouldn't sign no guarantee as to how long she'll run - but she shouldn't give you any trouble for a while.
(he looks briefly at Norma then a little nervously down to the ground): Was you gonna pay for this in cash?

Mrs. Bronson: I have a charge-

Repairman (ill at ease): Boss says I should start collectin' in cash.
(then to Norma): We've been working around the clock.
(he shakes his head): Refrigerators breaking down every minute and a half. Everybody and his brother trying to make ice. Then with the current being shut off every coupla hours - it's tough on the machines.
(he looks back toward Mrs. Bronson): About the bill, Mrs. Bronson-

Mrs. Bronson (softly): How much is it?

Repairman (looking away from her): I gotta charge you a hundred dollars.

11. Close shot Norma: Reacting.

12. Close shot Mrs. Bronson: The quiet of her voice doesn't cover the dismay.

Mrs. Bronson: For fifteen minutes work?

13. Two shot repairman and Mrs. Bronson

Repairman (nods): For fifteen minutes work. Most outfits are charging double that and triple. It's been that way for a month. Ever since...
(he looks out toward the street): Ever since the thing happened.

14. Close shot with him: As he turns back toward Mrs. Bronson, stops, starts and reacts. PAN OVER TO MRS. BRONSON. She's taking off her wedding ring and holds it out to him.

Mrs. Bronson (quietly): I don't have any money left, but this is gold. It's worth a lot more than a hundred dollars.

15. Med. group shot favoring repairman: The repairman just stands there, obviously torn now. He makes a motion as if to reach out to take the ring, then shakes his head, lets his hand abruptly fall to his side, hoists up the tool kit under his arm and starts for the stairs.

Repairman: Go ahead and charge it. I ain't taking a lady's wedding ring. Goodbye, Mrs. Bronson. Good luck to you.
(he pauses. He looks through the window at the landing, squinting toward the broiling white sky, very softly): I'm going to try to get my family out tonight. Drive north. Canada, if we can make it. They say it's cooler there.
(he turns to look back toward the two women, very resignedly): Not that it makes much difference. Just kind of...kind of prolonging it.
(he smiles a crooked twisted smile): Like everybody rushing to fix their refrigerators and air conditioners.
(he shakes his head): Like somebody drowning in the ocean and trying to get a firm grip on a piece of seaweed.
(he shakes his head again): It's nuts. It's just prolonging it, that's all.
(he takes a deep breath, heaves a big sigh): Lordy...Lordy, it's hot.

He continues down the steps, turns left on the landing below and disappears.

16. Two shot the two women in the hall: There's a silence.

Norma: What happens now?

Mrs. Bronson (shrugs): I don't know. I heard on the radio that they'd only turn the water on for an hour a day from now on. They said they'd announce what time.
(then pointedly, staring at the younger woman): Aren't you going to leave?

Norma (shakes her head): No, I'm not going to leave.

She turns and walks back into her apartment, leaving the door open.

17. Close profile shot of her: Her face glistening with perspiration.

Norma: I keep getting this crazy thought, Mrs. Bronson. This crazy thought that I'll wake up and none of this will have happened. I'll wake up in a cool bed and it'll be night outside and there'll be a wind and there'll be branches rustling. Shadows on the sidewalk. A moon.

18. Moving shot with her: As she goes over to the window. The brilliant, white hot sun shines on her face.

Norma (very softly): And traffic noises. Automobiles, garbage cans, milk bottles, voices.
(a pause as she looks down and closes her eyes): Isn't it odd...isn't it odd the things we take for granted.
(a pause and then meaningfully): While we had them.

19. Long shot across the room toward Norma, over Mrs. Bronson's shoulder: Mrs. Bronson stands at the door.

Mrs. Bronson (very simply): There was a scientist on the radio this morning. He said that...that it would get a lot hotter. More each day. Now that we're moving so close to the sun - and that's why we're...that's why we're...

She puts her head down and doesn't say anything more. WHIP PAN OVER TO SERLING on the stairs.

Serling: The word that Mrs. Bronson is unable to put into the hot, still, sodden air is..."doomed." Because all the people you've seen have been handed a death sentence. One month ago the earth suddenly, inexplicably, almost capriciously changed its elliptical orbit and in doing so began to follow a path which gradually, moment by moment, day by day, took it closer to the sun.

WHIP PAN OVER TO THE CLOCK in Norma's room, reading "11:55."

Serling's voice: It is five minutes to twelve...but the twelve is midnight. There is no more darkness. No more night.

WHIP PAN OVER TO AN AIR CONDITIONER by the window which hums along, then sputters, then comes to a stop.

Serling's voice: And all of man's little luxuries, his air conditioners...

WHIP PAN OVER TO REFRIGERATOR.

Serling's voice: The refrigerators...

WHIP PAN OVER TO SMALL ELECTRIC FAN whose blades amble slowly to a stop. Alongside, the window drapes hang absolutely still.

Serling's voice: The insignificant little devices to stir up air are now no longer luxuries. They happen to be pitiful and panicky keys to survival.

WHIP PAN BACK TO SERLING on the steps.

Serling: The time is any time. The place is New York City. And this is the eve of the end.

DISSOLVE TO:

20. The city thru Norma's window: Lying sodden and still in an incredibly white, gleaming light. It is deserted and without so much as a single motion.

Serling's voice: Outside a city has emptied itself of its inhabitants. They have trekked north toward Canada in a hopeless race against a sun which has already begun to overtake them.

We MOVE IN ON A SHOT OF an outdoor thermometer with the red liquid inching up to the top of the gauge, then reaching the top. It suddenly cracks the glass and overflows.

Serling's voice: This is a world of heat. A brilliant white orb that draws closer every tick of the clock. It is high noon...the hottest day in history...and you're about to spend it...in the Twilight Zone.

FADE TO BLACK:

OPENING BILLBOARD
FIRST COMMERCIAL

ACT ONE
FADE IN:

21. Int. Front hall [Day]: Norma is just coming up the steps into the hall carrying a bag of groceries, nondescript things like cans, some wilted carrots that protrude out of the top of the bag. For a moment she pauses and seems to sway. She puts the bag down and leans against the door of her apartment, breathing heavily.

Mrs. Bronson's voice (off): Norma? Is that you, honey?

Norma (her voice is a little weak): Yes, Mrs. Bronson.

22. Different angle the hall: As the door to Mrs. Bronson's apartment opens and she comes out. She looks briefly at the groceries on the floor, then expectantly up toward Norma.

Mrs. Bronson: The store was open.

Norma (with a half-smile): Wide open. I think that's the first time in my life I was sorry I'd been born a woman.
(she points to the bag): That's all I was strong enough to carry. There weren't any clerks, Mrs. Bronson. Just a handful of people taking all they could grab.
(she picks up the bag and opens up her apartment door): At least we won't starve anyway. And there are three cans of fruit juice on the bottom.

Mrs. Bronson follows her into her apartment.

Mrs. Bronson: Fruit juice! Oh, Norma, could we open one now?

Norma turns to her and gives her a look almost as if she were a small child. She touches the older woman's face.

Norma: Of course we can open it now.

She starts to empty the bag while Mrs. Bronson starts fiddling in one of the drawers. She looks up.

Mrs. Bronson: Where are the can openers?

Norma (points to the adjoining drawer): In there, Mrs. Bronson.

Mrs. Bronson, her fingers trembling with excitement, opens up the other drawers, finds the can opener, carries it over to where Norma has laid out the groceries. She abruptly grabs the can out of Norma's hand and tries inexpertly to open it, fumbling until finally the can drops out of her hand to land on the floor. She lets out a disappointed child-like wail and then cuts it off in the middle, suddenly conscious of the way she's acting.

23. Close shot Norma: As she stares at the older woman.

24. Close shot Mrs. Bronson: Kneeling as she picks up the can. She turns her eyes away.

Mrs. Bronson: I'm so sorry. I'm acting like...like an animal, aren't I?

Norma (takes the can from her and starts to open it, shaking her head): Like a frightened woman, that's all. You should have seen me in the store, Mrs. Bronson. Running down the aisles. I mean running. This way and that way, knocking over things, grabbing and throwing away then grabbing again.
(then looking away thoughtfully): And at that, I think I was the calmest person in the store. One woman just stood in the center of the room and cried. Just cried like a baby. Kept pleading for someone to help her.

FLASH CUT TO:

25. Radio on the table: As it suddenly hums and a voice comes out.

Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, this is station WNYG. We will remain on the air for one hour to bring you traffic advisories and other essential news. First a bulletin from the Office of Civil Defense. Traffic moving North and East out of New York City. Motorists are advised to remain off the highways until further notice. Traffic on the Garden State Parkway, the Merritt Parkway and the New York State Thruway heading north is reported bumper to bumper stretching out in some places to upwards of fifty miles. Please...remain off the highways until further notice. And now today's weather report from the Director of Meteorology. The temperature at eleven o'clock Eastern Standard Time was one hundred and four degrees. Humidity ninety-one percent. Barometer steady. Forecast for tomorrow-
(and now the announcer's voice sounds strained and takes on a different note): Forecast for tomorrow...
(there's a long silence)

CUT TO:

26. Close shot Norma: As she looks up toward radio.

CUT TO:

27. Close shot radio

Announcer: Hot. More of the same, only hot.
(there's the sound of whispered voices): I don't care. Who are they kidding with this weather report stuff? Ladies and gentlemen, tomorrow you can fry eggs on sidewalks, heat up soup in the ocean and get yourself the sunburn of your lives just by standing in the shade.
(some more whispered voices, this time intense and urgent. Announcer obviously reacting to whispered pleas of others around him.): What do you mean panic? Who's left to panic?
(and then with a grim laugh): Ladies and gentlemen, I'm told that my departing from the script might panic you and it's my contention that there aren't twelve of you left in the city who are listening to me. I'm starting a special contest now. Anyone within sound of my voice can tear off the top of their thermometer and send it to me. I'll send them my own specially devised booklet on how to stay warm when the sun is out at midnight. Now maybe I can find a coupla' real pizazz commercials for you. How about a nice cold beer? Wouldn't that taste just great?
(and half off mike): Lemme alone. Do you hear me?
(his voice fading off): Lemme alone. Let go of me.

Now his voice fades off altogether. There's the sound of a needle scratching a record and finally music comes out of the radio.

28. Two shot Mrs. Bronson and Norma: As they look at one another. Norma looks down at the can opener in her hand and tosses it aside, then over toward the radio-

Norma: You see, Mrs. Bronson? You're not the only frightened one.

She opens up the top buttons of her dress, takes a towel and wipes her neck, reaches up for a couple of glasses, takes them down and pours the juice out, hands the glass to Mrs. Bronson who looks at it, but doesn't drink.

Norma (softly): Go ahead. It's grapefruit juice.

Mrs. Bronson (very slowly lays the glass aside): I can't...I can't just live off you, Norma. You'll need this yourself.

Norma: We're going to have to start living off each other, Mrs. Bronson.
(she picks up the glass and hands it to the other woman, then with a smile and a wink she holds up her own glass): Here's looking at you!

The old woman makes a valiant attempt at a smile and a wink of her own. She puts the glass to her lips as she has to stifle a sob and almost chokes as she drinks.

FLASH SHOT

29. The fan: Which has been spinning desultorily as it slowly slows down to a stop. WHIP PAN OVER TO AIR CONDITIONER as it too stops.

30. Different angle Norma: As she looks from one to the other.

Norma (softly): The current's off again.

Mrs. Bronson: Every day it...it stays on for a shorter time.
(she looks frightened, for a moment, not the perpetual and persistent fright that she wears constantly - but another sharp gouge of fear): What if-
(then turning away): What if it shuts off and doesn't come back on again? It would be like an oven in here. As hot as it is now...as unbearable...it would be so much worse.
(then hands to her mouth): Norma, it would be so much worse.
(she looks around the room a little aimlessly, puts the glass down, looks over at the paintings that line one of the walls, in a soft and different voice): Norma?

Norma looks at her.

Mrs. Bronson (moving much closer to the paintings): Paint something different today. Paint something like a pastoral scene with a waterfall and trees bending in the wind.

31. Close angle shot of her: As she sinks down to her knees in front of the paintings. She reaches out to touch one of the paintings that is unseen by us.

Mrs. Bronson: Paint something...something cool.

Then her features twist and contort and she reaches out and grabs the painting in front of her and smashes it down on the ground.

Mrs. Bronson: Don't paint the sun anymore.

The CAMERA ARCS OVER HER SHOULDER until we're looking at the painting that she has partially ripped. It's a barren street scene with a hot white sun hovering deadly overhead.

CUT TO:

32. Shot of Norma: As she reacts, first with a sudden surge of anger, but then quickly it turns into a quiet resignation and a gentle compassion.

33. Moving shot Norma: As she walks over to stand over Mrs. Bronson. She reaches down and gently touches the older woman's shoulder.

Norma: Tomorrow...tomorrow I'll try to paint a waterfall.

34. Close shot Mrs. Bronson: She keeps her eyes shut tightly and shakes her head back and forth, in a whisper—

Mrs. Bronson: Oh, Norma, I'm sorry. My dear child, I'm so sorry. It would be so much better if—

35. Two shot

Norma: If what?

Mrs. Bronson: If I were to die.
(she looks up, tears rolling down her face): So much better for you.

Norma (kneels down so that she's very close to the other woman): Please don't ever say that again. We need each other now. We need each other now. We need each other desperately.

Mrs. Bronson slowly rises to her feet, moves out of the room into the hall just as a policeman comes into view on the stairs. His shirt is unbuttoned all the way down and the sleeves have been cut off and are ragged and uneven at the elbows.

Policeman: You the only one in the building?

Mrs. Bronson: Just me and Miss Smith.

She nods toward the open door of Norma's apartment.

Policeman: You had your radio on lately?

Mrs. Bronson: It's on all the time.
(then calling toward Norma): Norma honey, what station did we-

Policeman (interrupts): It doesn't make any difference. There are only two or three on the air now. And they figure by tomorrow there won't be any. Point is...we've been trying to get a public announcement through to everyone left in the city.
(he looks away for a moment as if this were difficult to say): ...There isn't going to be a police force tomorrow. We're disbanding. Over half of them have gone already. A few of us volunteered to stay back and tell everyone we could that...
(he looks from Norma who now stands at the door, back to the old woman): To keep your doors locked. Every wild man, crank and maniac around will be roaming the streets. It's not going to be safe, ladies, so keep your doors locked.
(he looks at Norma as if this were the stronger of the two and the more reliable): You got any weapons in here, miss?

Norma: No. No, I don't.

Mrs. Bronson: I don't either. I don't know how to shoot a gun-

Policeman (looks thoughtful for a moment then unbuckles his holster and takes a .45 out, hands this to Norma): You better hang onto this. It's all loaded. The safety's off. Just pull the trigger.
(he looks from one to the other): Good luck to you.

He turns toward the door and Mrs. Bronson rushes out to grab his arm.

Mrs. Bronson: Officer — Officer, what's going to happen to us?

36. Close shot policeman: As he looks from one to the other.

Policeman: Don't you know, ladies? It's just going to get hotter and hotter. Then maybe a couple days from now, four or five at the most... it'll be too hot to stand it.
(he looks meaningfully toward the gun in Norma's hand): Then you use your own judgment ladies!

He turns and goes out, leaving Mrs. Bronson leaning against the wall. Then very slowly she turns to stare fearfully toward the gun in Norma's hand.

FADE TO BLACK:
END ACT ONE

ACT TWO
FADE ON:

37. Int. Norma's apartment: She lies on the bed staring up toward the ceiling. PAN PAST HER OVER to the fan and the air conditioner, both of which are motionless and soundless, PAST the drapes which hang without movement. She turns her head slightly to look out toward the window.

38. Long shot across the room: Where the window frames nothing but the white heat that presses in from the outside.

39. Different closer angle Norma: As she turns her head away, closes her eyes for a moment, reaches up to touch her forehead, wipes away the perspiration. After a moment she wets her lips, swallows, then closes her eyes again and shakes her head, rises from the bed, but her movements are heavy, strained as if weighted down by some pressure. She moves across the room to the refrigerator, opens it, takes out the milk bottle, pours herself a very small glass of water, then puts the bottle back. She carries the glass of water over to the window and sips at it while staring out.

40. Closer angle of her: As she leans on the window sill then starts with a cry withdrawing her hands, fists clenched.

41. Close shot the sill: As it steams. She looks down at her damaged hands, holds them to her body, then looks at them again, then takes a sip of water, holds it in her mouth, then cupping her hands, spits the water out into them and then holds them together.

42. Moving shot with her: As she crosses the room, unlocks the apartment door, goes out into the hall. She knocks on Mrs. Bronson's door.

Norma: Mrs. Bronson?
(a little louder): Mrs. Bronson?

There are footsteps from the other side of the door, then the rattle of a door chain. The door opens just a few inches. Mrs. Bronson peers out.

43. Angle shot over Norma's shoulder of Mrs. Bronson

Norma: All you all right?

Mrs. Bronson nods, opens the door further. Her hair is stringy and wild, her face pinched and ill looking. She leans against the door frame for support.

Mrs. Bronson: I'm all right. It's been so quiet. I haven't heard a sound.
(she moves out into the hall, looks out the glass front door): What time is it?

Norma (looks at her watch): About three o'clock.
(she shakes her wrist): It's been running slow.

Mrs. Bronson: Three o'clock? Three in the afternoon?

Norma: Yes. Three o'clock in the afternoon. Were you able to sleep?

Mrs. Bronson: I laid down for a while. I tried shutting the curtains to keep the light out, but it gets so stifling when the curtains are shut.
(then a wan smile): But I guess it's psychological, isn't it? I don't think there's much difference between out there and in here.

At this moment there's the sound of a noise from up above, hen as if a door were being smashed open. Then a clump like footsteps and then silence. Mrs. Bronson grips Norma, her eyes wide as she stares up the steps.

Mrs. Bronson (in a whisper): What was that?

Norma: Something...something fell.

Mrs. Bronson: Oh, no. It was...someone.

Norma (her voice very low): Didn't you lock the roof door?

Mrs. Bronson: Yes.
(then abruptly): No.
(her hands go to the sides of her head): I don't know. I don't remember. I thought I did.

Again both women stare up as we hear the sounds of footsteps up above coming down.

44. Different angle of hall: As Norma grabs the older woman, pushes her into her apartment, slams the door behind her. We hear the lock from inside.

CUT TO:

45. Int. Norma's apartment: Both women stay close to the door, listening to the footsteps as they grow louder, finally coming down the last set of steps and obviously into the hall. Then they pause. Then they become louder as they move toward Norma's door. Mrs. Bronson turns as if to say something. Norma clamps her hand over Mrs. Bronson's mouth and the two women remain motionless. They hear the sound of breathing from the other side of the door, then a gruff man's voice.

Man's voice: Hey! Who's in there? Somebody in there?
(a silence): Come on out, Tootsie! I know you're in there. Come on out and be friendly. Come on, I ain't got all day. You come out or I'm gonna come in.

Norma lets her hand drop away from Mrs. Bronson's mouth as she stares around the room, desperate.

46. Close shot kitchen shelf: Where the gun lies.

47. Shot of Norma: As she runs across the room and gets it, brings it back over to the door, holds the gun down very close to the key hole and deliberately cocks it. There's a metallic click, then Norma leans against the door.

Norma: Did you hear that? That was a gun. Get out of here. Go out the front door. Leave us alone.

There's the sound of breathing and the man's voice again.

Man's voice: Okay, honey. I never argue with a lady who has a gun.

There's the sound of shuffling footsteps across the hall, the front door being unlocked, then its swinging open and shut. Mrs. Bronson heaves a deep sigh.

Mrs. Bronson: He's gone. Oh I'm so glad he's gone—

Without Norma seeing her, she unlocks the front door. Norma catches her just at the tail end of the act. Screams.

Norma: Mrs. Bronson, wait a min—

48. Close shot the door: As it smashes open. And there stands a hulking brute of a man in a torn undershirt, grinning like an animal. Mrs. Bronson tries to run past him, but he grabs her and flings her aside. Norma holds up the gun, but quickly, seeing her, he turns on her, grabs her hands, wrestles with her briefly. The gun falls to the floor. Norma tries to kick it away, but the man backhands her out of the way and picks up the gun. He stands over her breathing heavily, looking from one woman to the other. Finally he catches his breath.

Man: Crazy dames. It's too hot to play games. Much too hot.

He looks around the room.

49. Moving shot with him: As he walks over to the refrigerator, opens it, takes out the bottle of water, tilts it to his mouth and drinks thristily, emptying the bottle. This he throws aside and it breaks on the floor. Still panting, he moves around the room, looking at everything. He stops near a group of paintings and stares at them, kicks one aside so he can see the other one behind it, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he stares. He picks up one of the paintings, a street scene similar to the one we've already seen. The barren, empty street in the hot sun. He studies this for a long, long moment then slowly puts the painting aside, looks first at the old woman and then at Norma, points to the picture.

Man: You do this?

Norma nods.

Man: You're good. You paint real good. My...my wife used to paint.

Mrs. Bronson (her voice almost a moan): Please...please leave us alone. We didn't do you any harm. Please...

50. Different angle the man: As he looks at her, then over to the painting, then to Norma. Very slowly the arm holding the gun lowers until it hangs at his side. He looks down at it, then throws the gun across the room over to the bed.

Man (very softly): My wife was having her baby. She was in the hospital. Then this... this thing happened. She was... she was so fragile. Just a little thing.
(he holds out his hands as if groping for the right words): Couldn't take the heat. They tried to keep her cool, but... but she couldn't take the heat. Baby didn't live more than an hour and then... then she followed him.
(his big head goes down and he looks up, his eyes wet): I'm not... I'm not a house breaker. I'm a decent man. I swear to you... I'm a decent man. It's just that... the heat. That... terrible heat out there. And all morning long I've been walking around the streets trying to find some water. I didn't mean to do you any harm, honest. I wouldn't hurt you. Would you believe it?
(his laugh is now unrelated to anything funny)

Man: I was scared of you. That's right. I was just as scared of you as you were of me.
(he turns and in doing so his foot hits the broken glass from the bottle. He looks down at it): I'm... I'm sorry about that. I'm just off my rocker. I was just so thirsty.

He moves toward the door past the cowering, stricken Mrs. Bronson.

Man: Please forgive me. Would you. Would you please forgive me?

He turns his head, wipes away a vestige of perspiration, then moves out into the hall, leans against the glass of the front door. His back is to them. He holds out his arms, still leaning against the glass, almost silhouetted against the white heat.

Man: Why doesn't it end? Why don't we just...why don't we just burn up?
(his head goes down): I wish it would end. That's all that's left now. Just to have it end.

He opens the door and then walks very slowly down the stairs. His footsteps are joined by the sound of Mrs. Bronson's crying as she suddenly gives way to the emotions that have been throttled.

51. Different angle Norma's apartment: As Norma hurriedly goes over to the old woman, helps her to her feet, cradles her head in her arms, leans her cheek against her, pets her again as if comforting a child.

52. Close two shot of the woman: Mrs. Bronson's eyes open and she reacts to something across the room. Norma feels her sudden tenseness, looks down at her and then across the room toward where the old woman is looking. Norma smiles wanly.

Norma: I painted that for you last night. It's for you.

53. Moving shot Mrs. Bronson: As she goes across the room over to a canvas which is set apart from the others. It's a hurriedly constructed waterfall scene, obviously rough hewn and hurriedly done. Mrs. Bronson kneels down in front of it, reaches over to touch it.

Mrs. Bronson: It's beautiful, Norma. I've seen waterfalls like that. There's one near Ithaca, New York. It's the highest waterfall...the highest waterfall in this part of the country. And I...I love the sound of it. That clear blue water tumbling over the rocks. That wonderful clear water.

54. Angle shot looking down at her: As she suddenly looks up, listens raptly.

Mrs. Bronson: Hear it?

55. Close shot Norma: Who frowns.

56. Close shot Mrs. Bronson

Mrs. Bronson: Don't you hear it, Norma? Oh, it's a wonderful sound. It's so...cool. It's so clear.

Far off in the distance we suddenly hear precisely what Mrs. Bronson hears. The sound of tumbling water, gurgling and rippling over rocks.

57. Close shot Norma

58. Close shot Mrs. Bronson: Who very slowly rises. Her head high as if following the sound, she moves slowly and unsteadily across the room. The sound of the water grows louder and louder. Now Mrs. Bronson smiles the vapid, dreamy smile of the insane.

Mrs. Bronson (as she moves toward the window on the landing): Oh, Norma, it's lovely, just lovely. Why we could take a swim now. Let's do that. Let's take a swim at the bottom of the waterfall. I used to do that when I was a girl. Just sit there and let the water come down on you.

59. Different angle: As she moves out the apartment door into the hall, walks over toward the window. Now the SOUND of the waterfall is almost deafening. She leans her head against the glass, the sweat pours down her forehead. She reaches up and touches it, looks at it on her fingertips, smiles happily, wets her lips, holds her head up, opens her mouth as if wanting to catch the water.

CUT TO:

60. Reverse angle looking through the window glass: At the sweaty, distorted face as very slowly the woman on the other side slumps to her knees and then collapses on the floor.

CUT TO:

61. Int. Hall: As Norma comes out of the apartment, bends down to look deep into the face of the old woman. Her lips quiver.

Norma: Mrs. Bronson?
(a pause, more urgently): Mrs. Bronson?
(then a spasmodic sob): Mrs. Bronson.

She leans over so that her face is touching the cheek of the old woman and she remains there motionless, crying.

62. Slow pan across the floor: Through the open door to the apartment over to the oil painting of the waterfall. While we're watching it, the paint seems to glisten, then blister and then very slowly run down the canvas until the picture takes on a distorted image of running colors.

CUT TO:

63. Glass in window: As it suddenly smashes into a thousand pieces.

CUT TO:

64. Reverse angle looking toward door to the hall: As Norma appears in the entrance. She's wringing wet with sweat and opens her mouth as if trying to say something.

65. Close shot the broken window: As the shimmering heat pours into the room.

66. Close shot Norma: As she enters the room and then backs away from the window.

67. Close shot paintings: As all the paint begins to blister and run.

68. Close shot Norma: As the sweat pours down her face.

69. Close shot curtain: As it suddenly bursts into flame.

70.-75. Series of abrupt cuts between paintings and Norma: As if with each CUT she herself is almost becoming a painted image dissolving into sticky pigments. She lets out one vast scream as she collapses on the floor.

ABRUPT CUT TO:

76. Int. Apartment close shot the window [Night]: It is ringed by frost and outside we see snow falling heavily. A woman's hand comes into the frame to close it and the curtain, which has been blowing lustily, comes to a halt. The CAMERA PULLS BACK for a shot of Norma lying in bed covered by blankets. A doctor hovers over her. He wears an overcoat and an open scarf. Mrs. Bronson has on a heavy wool sweater. She moves over to the bed, looks at the doctor expectantly.

Doctor (nods): She's coming out of it now. Miss Smith?
(a pause): Miss Smith?

Norma (turns toward him): Yes.

Doctor: You've been running a very high fever, but I think it's broken now.

Norma: Fever?

Mrs. Bronson: You gave us a start, child. You've been so ill. But you're going to be all right now.
(hopefully smiles, to the doctor): Isn't she, Doctor? Isn't she going to be all right?

Doctor (nods very slowly): Of course.

He beckons with his head toward Mrs. Bronson, then tucks in the blankets around Norma, then moves out into the hall followed by the older woman, motions to the door to have it closed. Mrs. Bronson comes up close to his elbow and over both their shoulders we see the dark snowy night outside, the occasional gusts of freezing wind.

Doctor: I hope she'll be all right. Just let her sleep as much as she can. I wish I had something left to give her, but...but the medicine's pretty much all gone now.
(he looks out toward the snow): I'm afraid I won't be able to come back. I'm going to try to move my family south tomorrow. Friend of mine has a private plane.

Mrs. Bronson: They say...they say on the radio that...Miami is a little warmer.

Doctor (smiles warmly): So they say.
(he looks out toward the night again): But we're just prolonging it. That's all we're doing. Everybody running like scared rabbits to the south. And they say that within a week that'll be covered with snow down there too.

77. Pan shot over to open door: of Mrs. Bronson's apartment. We hear a Radio Announcer's Voice.

Announcer's voice: This is Traffic Advisory from the Office of Civil Defense. Motorists are advised to stay off the highways on all those routes leading south and west out of New York City. We repeat this advisory. Remain off the highways.

Then there's the sound of music.

78. Shot of Mrs. Bronson in hall

Mrs. Bronson: There was a scientist on this morning. He was trying to explain what happened. How the earth changed its orbit and...and started to move away from the sun. He said that...he said that within a week or two, three at the most, there wouldn't be any more sun. That we'd all...
(her voice is strained and tight): We'd all freeze.

79. Close shot the doctor: As he tries to smile at her, but then gives up. There is nothing he can do and nothing he can say. He wraps his muffler around his throat, puts up his collar, puts on heavy gloves, and leaves, going down the stairs. Mrs. Bronson turns slowly, opens Norma's door, walks into the room.

80. Close shot the bed: As Mrs. Bronson comes into the frame to sit close to it. Norma reaches out with her hand and the old woman takes it.

Norma: I had such a terrible dream, Mrs. Bronson. It was so hot. And there was daylight all the time. There was a...midnight sun. And there wasn't any night at all. No night at all.
(she smiles at the older woman, clutches her hand more tightly): Isn't it wonderful to have darkness and coolness?

81. Angle shot looking up at Mrs. Bronson: Who bites her lower lip.

Mrs. Bronson: Yes, my dear, it's wonderful.

A SLOW PAN ACROSS THE ROOM over to the window where the snow and ice and wind beat against it. The lights flicker and go out and so we're looking at the massive winter outside. SLOW PAN UP AS we hear Serling's voice.

Serling's voice: The poles of fear. The extremes of how the earth might conceivably be doomed. Minor exercise in the care and feeding of a nightmare. Respectfully submitted by all the thermometer watchers...in the Twilight Zone.

Fade to black.

THE AFTER HOURS	WALKING DISTANCE	TIME ENOUGH AT LAST	THE ODYSSEY OF FLIGHT 33	THE MONSTERS ARE DUE ON MAPLE ST.
THE MIDNIGHT SUN	NIGHT OF THE MEEK	A STOP AT WILLOUGHBY	DEATHS-HEAD REVISITED	IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER