Episode One - YELLOW AMENDS - 10/04/12
29.
And he throws the old shirt into a laundry basket, turns back to her in his vest. For us - the shocking and pitiful sight of his left shoulder. TERRIBLE BURNS. Mottled scars stretch from his upper arm to just beneath his neck. Emily, however, is unmoved -- EMILY And what is it you imagine I worry about? If there’s an answer to that question Reid is not prepared to offer it. Finds a weak smile for her. Turns from the room. INT. REID HOME - REID’S CHAMBER - DAY 1/39 REID - climbing another set of stairs, pushing into this attic room. His bolt-hole. A day bed that is much slept in. A lovingly constructed hot-air balloon swings from the ceiling. Books and bookshelves everywhere. Contemporary science and mathematics mainly. Posters advertising lectures at the Royal Society - among them see a recent one: Edward Muybridge’s - Studies in Animal Locomotion. The images of a horse captured in motion repeatedly; as if in flight. He moves to a mirrored cabinet. From within a bottle of some kind of oil is produced. A portion poured into his right hand, which - stood in front of his reflection - he proceeds to massage the oil into the shoulder joint. A movement that is practised and thorough. Then he’s moving to some kind of (clearly self-constructed) piece of MACHINERY that he has bolted to a wall. Reaches for a leather sling. Fits it about left elbow. Drawstrings are tightened. A metal chain makes its way through castors that are fitted to the wall and connected to a rotor. REID turns this with his right hand and the chain grasps. Ratchets his left arm up and away from his body. REID’S eyes - dead ahead. His right hand - turning the rotor. His left shoulder and arm - slowly extended to a normal - if extreme - range of motion for most but for REID... He sweats. Resists the intense pain. Cannot. And screams. INT. BEDROOM - REID HOME - CONTINUOUS 1/40 EMILY REID - combing mussed hair. Dressing herself after her exertions. Her reflection in a glass as she stands - head to foot in black now. Her mourning weeds. Taking herself in as another scream rips through her home.
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