The collected short fict.., p.116
The Collected Short Fiction, page 116
Janine watches with a serious expression, then smiling approval, but it’s usually just Dan and Trevor and perhaps Michael passing by.
We see Trevor becoming more and more responsive, stopping his fist behavior, sitting closer to Dan. The cards and books and equations flash by, Trevor works intently with his calculator and his crayon, he is absorbing, growing, emerging from his shell.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. THE POOL ROOM - MORNING
Dan, as our MONTAGE ENDS, is in the pool swimming around Trevor as Michael watches from the side. Dan splashes Trevor, who takes it stoically, and even grins, though still not making eye contact. In the middle of the splashing, Trevor SHOUTS:
TREVOR
I want to know!
Dan stops splashing. Janine walks into the pool room with a robe for Trevor. It’s time to get out, but Trevor walks to the side of the pool, avoiding her.
DAN
What do you want to know?
TREVOR
(Still loud, flat)
I want to know, is a donut the same everywhere.
(Beat)
The same as a cup with a handle.
Janine is puzzled. Dan is not.
DAN
A donut, a cup with a handle . . . they’re the same. You can mold one into the other without making a cut or a second hole. That’s the study of the properties of shapes in space, basic topology.
TREVOR
(Impatient, even a little rude)
I know that. But are a cup and a donut the same everywhere.
Trevor points, then waves his finger around the room, without looking at Dan or Janine.
DAN
It’s worth thinking about.
Janine gives them both a cautious smile.
JANINE
Time to get out, Trevor. You’ll be all pruny.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. FUSION REACTOR LAB - MORNING
Dan walks past the Double Pulse Reactor Vessel in the main lab, carrying books and rolls of blueprints. Cindy and John are working around the neck of the vessel and the QUARTZ BOX. Conduits, wire harnesses, and other equipment litter their workbench, and the two post-docs are grimy and sweaty.
ON THE WORK BENCH: the QUANTUM TUNNEL, stacked donuts supported by three steel braces . . . as in Trevor’s sketch.
Cindy WIPES HER FOREHEAD, looks up, and sees Dan heading out the exit.
CINDY
Dr. Shaeffer . . . Can we talk?
DAN
I’m late.
CINDY
Cat’s away, Dr. Shaeffer.
DAN
What?
CINDY
We have two days to get this right. You aren’t around much.
Dan approaches, trying for a little authority, but also to mollify.
DAN
You’re re-lining the quantum tunnel, right?
CINDY
That’s finished.
She taps the quantum tunnel lightly with a finger.
CINDY (CONT’D)
Now we’re balancing and aiming the internal laser. The donut and the cup, Dr. Shaeffer.
Dan is taken aback.
DAN
I beg your pardon?
CINDY
(Fast and clear)
We need you to give us a proper angle for the injection beam. When we inject the laser through the quantum tunnel, basically, it takes a detour in another dimension through the skin of the torus, never touches it—and comes out inside, doubling the plasma density. Boom! Extra energy. That’s how it works, right? Basic 4D geometry.
DAN
Yes. So?
CINDY
(Tartly, irritation growing)
So is the plasma really a torus, a donut, or is it a cup, or is it a bottle with two holes in it? That should all affect beam angle. I’m just trying to jump-start some answers here, Dr. Shaeffer, because we all think you’re kind of slowing down on us.
Andrea joins the group, carrying a small bottle of pills, and with arms folded, they all stare at him. They are so young, with pierced nostrils and short hair and radical clothes, and so smart. And very accusing.
DAN
The beam angle is critical, of course.
The vessel looms over them, shiny and ominous. Dan looks at the assembly they’ve removed from the quartz box, picks up a beautiful, jewel-like red rod mounted in a steel gimbal, and twists the rod back and forth experimentally.
DAN (CONT’D)
Funny you should ask about a donut and a cup.
He hands the assembly to John, then departs, and shouts over his shoulder,
DAN (CONT’D)
I’m on it! 24 hours a day.
He leaves. The post-docs regard each other with severe doubt. Andrea holds out a bottle of Tylenol, the object of her errand, and pours two apiece into Cindy’s and John’s OUTSTRETCHED HANDS. They swallow the pills, swig from a runner’s bottle of water, then get back to work.
CINDY
Smell that?
ANDREA
What?
CINDY
The stink of a good mind going to waste.
ANDREA
His, or ours?
JOHN
How long does flu last?
CINDY
In hell, forever.
CUT TO:
INT. TREVOR’S ROOM - EVENING
Trevor is in his corner, humming to himself and rocking. He clutches the calculator as if it is a soothing Teddy bear. He looks incredibly vulnerable.
We HEAR A SOUND in the room, papers SHUFFLING. Trevor LOOKS OUT OF THE CORNER. The papers are arranging themselves on his table. A crayon is MOVING, SCRIBBLING, gripped by an isolated curl of shadow with a faint, pearly gleam. Suddenly, the crayon FLIES OFF THE PAPER toward Trevor’s face, where it HANGS SUSPENDED.
Trevor FLINCHES, but he is not in the least surprised. He reaches up, takes the crayon, and the curl of shadow VANISHES. The boy walks to the desk, SIGHS, this is dull but familiar, and goes to work. He crudely sketches stacked donuts supported by three braces—we recognize the QUANTUM TUNNEL.
Janine looks in on him. Trevor pauses in his work until she leaves then LOOKS BEYOND THE CAMERA, with his own kind of PATIENCE and COURAGE.
END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE
INT. THE GLORIA P. DUNHAM CLINIC - AFTERNOON
Dan is checking out blunt scissors from the desk. Michael signs them out.
MICHAEL
Don’t leave them in the room.
Dan walks down the hall. Janine comes out of her office and hurries to catch up with him.
JANINE
Wait up! How are the lessons?
DAN
Fine. I hope we’re not going too fast.
JANINE
It’s up to Trevor.
They’re at the door.
JANINE (CONT’D)
I think it’s time to tell you more about Trevor.
(Glances at her watch)
I’m busy all afternoon. Dinner tonight?
Janine unlocks, Dan smiles tentatively at her. An overture?
JANINE
Professional . . . dinner.
DAN
Ah. Of course. I need to be back at the lab by eight.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. TREVOR’S ROOM - MOMENTS LATER
Dan has cut a long strip of paper. Trevor sits halfway between the table and his corner, glancing now and then at what Dan is doing. Trevor clutches the calculator.
DAN
I’m sure you know about a Moebius strip. My favorite trick. Let’s say you’re a little two dimensional insect, right?
Dan takes a shiny ANT ON A STICKER and places it on the strip of paper. Trevor sniffs.
TREVOR
Ant.
Dan takes the strip, gives it a half-twist, daubs one end with glue, and sticks the ends together. He holds it up, then lays it on the table. Trevor takes the paper in his hands.
DAN
The ant walks around the paper.
Trevor traces his finger all the way around the strip of paper, starting with the ant, ending with the ant—and no edge.
TREVOR
He can see his own butt.
DAN
(Laughs)
You do know this, don’t you? It’s now a one-sided piece of paper. The ant can walk all the way around, over and over again, and never cross an edge. It’s like a closed, two-dimensional universe. A loop.
TREVOR
The ant shines a flashlight. It goes all the way around and lights up his butt.
DAN
Exactly right. Big round of applause!
He claps his hands. Trevor can’t take this. He shreds the Moebius strip and retreats into the corner.
TREVOR
Sorry.
Trevor shakes his head, hides his face.
DAN
Should I go now?
Trevor shakes his head vigorously.
TREVOR
Don’t go.
DAN
What should we do, Trevor?
TREVOR
Stay with me.
DAN
I’m staying.
He folds his arms and waits. A couple of beats, silence in the room.
TREVOR
No more simple stuff.
Trevor makes large circles with his free hand.
TREVOR (CONT’D)
I want to solve tough problems. Like what you do. What’s a Klein bottle?
DAN
You’re the man, Trevor.
Dan leans forward. He draws a Klein bottle (sketch 2, already familiar to us).
DAN (CONT’D)
It’s a kind of bottle whose inside is continuous with its outside. Like a Moebius strip, but in three dimensions. Except where the neck passes through the bottle’s wall and connects with the inside . . . We have to cheat a little and slip that through the fourth dimension. Just as we twist the Moebius strip in the third dimension.
TREVOR
I know. Like a door.
Trevor looks up. Shadows are pooling in the ceiling corners behind Dan, as if they’re EAVESDROPPING. Shapes hover and merge and separate in the air—SEE SKETCHES. They are completely SILENT. Dan is unaware, focused on Trevor—and used to his wandering and intent gaze, as he avoids looking directly at people. But we know that Trevor is tracking something else.
DAN
Right. I have some problems nobody knows the answers to, about bottles like this, and how an ant can crawl through the door and shine a flashlight on his own butt.
TREVOR
I know.
DAN
I hope you do. They are very important problems.
Trevor watches the shadows grow. They almost fill the space behind Dan. Dan wrinkles his brow at the DIMMING of the light, and WHIPS HIS HEAD AROUND to stare at the wall, but it’s bright and innocent again.
DAN (CONT’D)
(Laughs nervously)
Whoa. Felt like someone was watching me for a second there.
TREVOR
(Flat)
I’m supposed to help you.
DAN
That would be great.
Michael opens the door and breaks the spell. He looks a little suspicious.
MICHAEL
Time for bath and snack in five minutes, Trevor.
Dan is vastly irritated. Trevor shakes his head and pushes the papers away. He flings his hand at the door.
TREVOR
Go.
Dan gets up.
DAN
Tomorrow morning?
TREVOR
(Loud)
Go.
CUT TO:
INT. THE CORRIDOR OUTSIDE - MOMENTS LATER
Dan confronts Michael as the nurse folds towels on a rolling cart.
DAN
We were making good progress. Why bring it all to a screeching halt?
MICHAEL
(Guarded)
The boy has his routine. He needs his rest.
He walks away. Dan won’t let it go so easily.
DAN
What, something wrong, you don’t approve?
Michael returns Dan’s look, but will not be baited.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. OLIVE GROVE RESTAURANT - LATER THAT NIGHT
Janine is dressed simply but less severely, and has let her hair loose . . . a little. Dan is wearing a tweed jacket, professorial. He’s picking at a plate of pasta. Janine’s plate is still full. She’s doing the talking so far. Her words are sensitive, but there’s a professional matter-of-factness about them. She shows little actual passion.
JANINE
I hope you understand how unusual Trevor is. Autism is a horrible affliction. It affects how you process your world. You focus on things, not people or situations. Comparisons and metaphors are difficult, sometimes impossible, but you can have an intense focus on particulars. Sometimes you get so overloaded with stimulus, any stimulus, that you have to scream or hide or just withdraw. His baths . . . Michael . . .
DAN
Rubs him the wrong way?
JANINE
Rubbing, scraping, can be awful. But Trevor enjoys steady pressure, a deep massage. I’ve seen Michael have Trevor completely relaxed on a table, happy . . . as happy as Trevor can ever be. Michael cares, he’s good with the boy, but Michael is like furniture to Trevor. Trevor is actually talking with you. That is a wonderful accomplishment, Dan.
DAN
(Proud)
Without candy.
JANINE
Without candy.
Dan leans forward, elbows on the table, and holds up his hands expressively.
DAN
What about his brilliance? Where does that come from?
JANINE
Not all autistics are brilliant or even smart. They’re just people, after all. Trevor has a special talent, and I don’t think it’s connected with his affliction. He could be a kind of savant, with one area of his mind compensating for weakness in other areas. That . . . and his love for his father.
DAN
I thought autistic children had a hard time connecting.
JANINE
Some love differently, but they still love. Trevor never talks about his father. But those books are his prized possession. He’s probably read them all a hundred times. You don’t know how pleased I am you can talk with him. Be there for him. He needs a person he can connect with. A man.
DAN
Is something else bothering him? Is it just autism?
JANINE
Why?
DAN
(Shrugs)
Have you told Trevor anything about my work?
JANINE
No. How could I? I don’t know anything about your work.
DAN
Just this funny feeling today, before Michael interrupted us.
Janine puts out her hand and takes his, rubs his fingers.
JANINE
We’re all protective of Trevor. But you’re doing just fine.
DAN
Is it okay if I challenge him?
JANINE
That’s why I asked you.
He rubs her hand in return, and she slowly disengages, withdraws. Dan alerts a waitress.
DAN
Do you have any aspirin? I’m fresh out.
WAITRESS
Acetaminophen. Will that do?
DAN
Fine.
(To Janine)
Sinus, flu . . . It’s hit the lab. All around town, I hear.
JANINE
I got over it weeks ago.
(Afterthought)
I hope it’s not too bad.
Dan shrugs; just par for the course. The waitress brings him tablets and a glass of water. He takes the pills. Now’s the time to understand some things.
DAN
Janine . . . I want to—understand where we are.
Janine is suddenly in a hurry.
JANINE
It’s almost eight. You need to get back to the lab, right?
The moment passes. Dan might be afraid to learn the truth.
DAN
Right.
CUT TO:
EXT. OLIVE GROVE RESTAURANT - MOMENTS LATER
They stand at the curb, waiting to part. Janine is fidgety. Dan has his hands deep in his pockets and is obviously in pain.
JANINE
Are you sure you’re all right?
DAN
I can hardly see straight.
JANINE
Can I drive you home?
DAN
It’ll pass.
JANINE
(Relieved, fragile)
A brave man.
DAN
I wouldn’t go that far.
She takes his face in her hands, too intense, like a scared deer.
JANINE
(Forced)
Good with children.
DAN
(Laughs nervously)
Oh, Lord. Not that.
JANINE
No. This.
She kisses him square. His eyes wander for a moment in surprise, then focus. He kisses her back, walks his lips across her face, hungry. Abruptly, she breaks and gives him a look of distress.
JANINE (CONT’D)
No! I won’t do it! I have to go.
And before he can answer, she’s running down the street toward her car. Dan is AT A COMPLETE LOSS.
DISSOLVE TO:
END OF ACT THREE
ACT FOUR
INT. TREVOR’S ROOM - AFTERNOON
Trevor is alone in his room. He works intently with his calculator, writing answers on the papers on his table. We do not know if he is happy; Trevor’s affect is FLAT unless otherwise indicated.
ON THE PAPERS. Masses of very complex equations (will provide).
Dan enters with a clutch of blueprints under his arm, smiles sunnily at Trevor. Trevor looks up, though not at Dan, and stops writing. He puts down the crayon, crosses his arms in a NORMAL fashion, not mummy-like, and waits.
DAN
Good morning, Trevor. Yesterday’s work was excellent. We’re making real progress.
He puts down the blueprints and unrolls one on the table. It’s THE REACTOR VESSEL, a Klein bottle. Trevor glances at it from the corner of his eye.
DAN (CONT’D)
I really feel a little embarrassed, coming to you like this, but I must confess you’re the better mathematician.
TREVOR
Thanks.
Dan purses his lips in appreciation. This is a breakthrough.
DAN
You are welcome! Wow. All right. Let’s get down to the brass tacks, as the engineers say.
TREVOR
Thanks.
DAN
(Again)
You’re welcome.
He unrolls another blueprint, the QUANTUM TUNNEL.
DAN (CONT’D)
We’re in the quantum tunnel now. Our angles are going to get very strange here.
