Dark Shadows: The Last Year

Victor Winters

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Introduction: "The Curse Of Parallel Time"

Dear Reader,
This is an ongoing fan fiction I have been writing. Disappointed by the last year of the classic 1966-1971 soap opera, Dark Shadows, I decided to write my own version of the final year of the show and beyond. The biggest disappointments for me personally have to be the "Parallel Time 1970" and "Parallel Time 1841" storylines. It is my opinion that "Parallel Time 1970" was the catalyst that kick-started the slow, painful, year-long death of the once awesome show. And we only got to spend about two months in Real Time 1970 with the present day family! The other ten months were spent in the two Parallel Times and also the year 1840, so I decided that in my re-write I would not have ANY time-travel (at least not until we pass the original cancellation date of April 2, 1971). I wanted to return to a more traditional soap opera format and build upon the stories that were already in place before Barnabas Collins stepped into the strange (and truly terrifying) world of Parallel Time on Monday, March 30, 1970 (the first date of this fan fiction). My goal is to at least re-write the last year, then hopefully continue the story to December 31, 1971.
Happy Reading!

Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
Reaction score
Rhode Island
Episode 981: The Last Night, Part 1

Mon. Mar. 30, 1970

A night of Tragedy on the Great Estate of Collinwood… For Jeb Hawkes has died, and Barnabas Collins has avenged his death. Barnabas, still facing his overwhelming lust for blood, turns to the sanctuary of the East Wing of Collinwood ~ unaware that he is walking into Temptation's Trap…

"Megan Todd found refuge here," Barnabas said aloud, walking down the dusty, cobwebbed corridor of the East Wing. "I wonder if I could stay 'til morning's light, and let the rising sun be my refuge?"

Barnabas reached the doors of the abandoned old parlor and opened them. There were old legends of this room, some said they heard voices and laughter coming from the room, others heard wailing or even music. The room sat empty now, his footsteps echoing across the emptiness as if he were the last man on Earth.

Moonbeams fell through the window above the windowseat, and Barnabas walked over to the light and stood there with his eyes closed. The moonlight was like the sun to him now, warm and inviting. "It would be so easy," Barnabas said. "When the sun shines through this window in the morn, it will be as though I never existed."

The sound of footsteps out in the hall upset his reverie, and a young woman's pitiful voice called out in agony. "Jeb! Jeb!"

"Carolyn!" Barnabas hissed. "She must not find me here!" Barnabas knew what would happen if he was alone with her. He was thinking of turning into a bat, when the parlor's doors flung open.

"Jeb, are you in here?" Carolyn Hawkes called out into the dark shadows of the room for her husband. "Jeb, please come out!"

Barnabas decided to intervene. "Carolyn," he said softly. The young woman whipped around with a gasp as he stepped towards her.

"Barnabas! What are you doing here? Where's Jeb?" she demanded.

"Jeb is dead, Carolyn," Barnabas told her gently. He could hear her heart beating like a drum.

Carolyn looked over Barnabas' shoulder. "Where is he? Where have you hidden him?" The young woman refused to acknowledge what Barnabas told her.

"Carolyn, please," Barnabas walked closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "You know Jeb fell off Widows' Hill tonight." Barnabas could see the pulse beat in her neck. "Come with me, I'll take you to Julia. She can give you that sedative you refused earlier."

"No!" Carolyn jerked her shoulder away and searched frantically around the room. "Jeb! Jeb! Where are you? Please come out," she said, with a pitiful crack in her voice.

Barnabas was in front of her again, and grabbed her by both of her shoulders, forcing her to face him. "Please listen to what I tell you! Jeb is gone, Carolyn! He is never coming back!" Carolyn now had the look in her eyes of a frightened animal, one that was soon to be slaughtered. Barnabas could smell the blood coursing through her veins now. "Now come with me, and let's find Julia!"

"No!" Carolyn screamed. She beat at Barnabas' chest. "Jeb! Jeb!" She pushed him away and started to run toward the parlor's doors. By now, between the smells of blood and fear in the young woman, Barnabas' fangs were fully extended. He was at the double doors in an instant, grabbing Carolyn in his embrace. She turned and looked at Barnabas' demonic face, screaming as he grasped her neck with one hand, tilting his head back to strike with two exposed fangs…

Act One:

Hearing Carolyn's screams down the East Wing corridor, Dr. Julia Hoffman rushed towards the abandoned parlor's doors. She and Elizabeth Stoddard, Carolyn's mother, had been searching for Carolyn after she disappeared from the drawing room. On a hunch, Julia went to the East Wing, having seen Barnabas head there earlier.

Julia flung the double doors open. "Barnabas!" she shrieked raspily. "What are you doing?"

Barnabas pulled away from Carolyn's neck, guilt covering his face, blood dripping from his mouth. "Julia!" he exclaimed, holding Carolyn in his arms to keep her from falling to the floor. "I-I couldn't help myself!"

Julia shook her head in dismay and rushed over to help Carolyn. "Never mind, Barnabas! Let's just get her to her room before someone see her like this!"

"Jeb," Carolyn whimpered, "Jeb!" Julia held a handkerchief to Carolyn's neck, as she and Barnabas walked with Carolyn between them back to the young woman's bedroom.

"I'm sorry, Julia," Barnabas tried again. "I couldn't help myself. She wouldn't leave… I tried to get her to leave, but she wouldn't."

"Never mind, Barnabas!" Julia hissed. First Sabrina Stuart, now Carolyn! Julia wondered how many more times she would have to clean up Barnabas' messes tonight.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth Stoddard and Maggie Evans walked downstairs to the Great Hall of Collinwood. "Thank you for looking with me," Elizabeth told the young governess. "I just don't understand where Carolyn could have gone! Jeb's death has been such a shock"

"I still can't believe Jeb is gone!" Maggie exclaimed. She shuddered to herself as she remembered how the tall, blond, evil young man had locked her in a crypt. She shook her head silently at how Carolyn, who had always seemed to have her head on straight, had been taken in by Jeb Hawkes. But she knew better than to pick at the scab. "There seems to be no end to tragedy here at Collinwood!"

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded, as she stepped off of the last step of the staircase onto the stone floor of the Great Hall. "I've been thinking lately how all of this is affecting David. We'll have to have a talk about him, soon."

Just, then, the front doors of the Great Estate opened, and a tall, thin, dark-haired young man came striding in. "Elizabeth! Maggie! You're both still up!" He turned and shut the doors behind him.

"Quentin! Have you seen Carolyn?" Elizabeth asked. Quentin shook his head no, and looked over at Maggie, who quickly looked away, blushing.

Elizabeth walked towards the drawing room and stared inside. "Jeb died tonight. Sky Rumson pushed him off of Widows' Hill, and then killed himself. Carolyn is heartbroken… I'm so worried about her."

Quentin stared at Maggie as he spoke to Elizabeth. "I heard about what happened when I was at the Blue Whale. Nicholas Blair seems to have disappeared, as well."

Maggie finally turned to look at Quentin. "Nicholas?" She remembered how they had dated a year and half earlier, until he suddenly had to leave Collinsport without telling her he was leaving. "He left without even saying hello, this time..." She stared into Quentin's piercing blue eyes, and wondered how she could have ever been interested in Nicholas Blair.

"His loss…" murmured Quentin, stroking his hand. A pitchfork sign began to form on it.

Maggie blushed again and turned away, stroking her own hand. She looked down and was surprised to see the pitchfork sign appear on her own hand as well.

Elizabeth was too distraught over Carolyn to notice the two lovers. "Quentin, will you go out and look for her? I've already sent Roger out. I'd go and look for her, but there have been so many attacks lately."

Quentin continued to stare at Maggie. "All right, Elizabeth. I'll go look." He lightly touched Maggie's hand with his, then turned towards the front doors. "Maybe I'll start near the gazebo," he said, more to Maggie than to Elizabeth.

"Carolyn is in her room!" Julia called down from the balcony above the staircase where she and Barnabas stood. "We found her in the East Wing!" She and Barnabas walked down the stairs together.

"Thank God!" exclaimed Elizabeth. She rushed towards Barnabas and Julia. "How is she?"

Julia glanced at Barnabas with a glowering look on her face. "She's resting comfortably. I gave her a sedative."

Barnabas took the regal woman's hand. "Elizabeth, Carolyn had an accident in the East Wing. She cut her neck on an old mirror, but she's going to be all right. Julia bandaged her."

Elizabeth looked towards the red-headed doctor. "Are you sure she's all right, Julia?" Julia nodded, and gave a little smile.

While this was going on, Quentin nodded at Maggie and slipped quietly out the front doors. Noticing Barnabas staring at her, Maggie decided to wait a few minutes before following Quentin.

"I'll just go up to her room and sit beside her." Elizabeth told the group. "I don't want to leave her alone tonight, even if she is sleeping."

Act Two:

After Elizabeth went upstairs, Maggie excused herself to Barnabas and Julia. "I'll just go into the study and get a book," she lied. "Good-night Barnabas, good-night Julia." Julia smiled at Maggie, but frowned when she saw that Barnabas was watching Maggie walk away.

"Barnabas…" Julia looked angry. "I think we'd better have a private chat." She ushered him into the drawing room and closed the doors behind them.

Barnabas sighed and looked dejected. "What is it, Julia?"

Julia stared at Barnabas. "What is it? What is it?" Julia shook her head incredulously. "Barnabas! How many victims are you going to attack tonight? Sabrina is at Chris's cottage, barely alive. Carolyn is upstairs, grieving and in shock. If I hadn't walked in on the two of you when I did, Carolyn would need a blood transfusion as well!"

Barnabas walked over to the drawing room window and looked out into the garden. "I'm sorry, Julia, I really am! I went to the East Wing to die! I decided to wait until the sun came up and just stand in its rays, and let it consume me. I would have stayed there if Carolyn hadn't come looking for Jeb."

Julia stood there in shock. "Oh, Barnabas! I've never heard you talk this way before. You've never given up so easily." She stood behind him and placed a hand on his arm. "Let me take you to Windcliff, Barnabas! You'll be safe there, and so will Sabrina and Carolyn… and Maggie!"

Barnabas turned and glanced at his friend. "Oh, Julia! What is the use? There are too many things that could go wrong! How would you prevent anyone from trying to see me during the day? How would you keep me from escaping at night?"

"I'll take care of you, Barnabas!" Julia begged him. "Oh please, Barnabas! I'll keep you safe. I'll find a cure this time, I promise! But I need you in a controlled environment." Julia wrung her hands. "Please Barnabas, you've got to! Before there are any more victims…"

Barnabas smiled grimly, then turned to look out the window again. "I'll think about it, Julia." He saw Quentin standing outside under the gazebo. Barnabas narrowed his eyes as Quentin opened his arms in invitation towards someone beyond the garden wall.

Maggie's breath quickened when she saw Quentin Collins standing under the gazebo, beckoning, inviting her to join him. What was happening to her lately? Quentin was a handsome man, to be sure, but every time the pitchfork sign appeared on her hand, it was as if the whole world stopped, and Quentin Collins was an all-encompassing, all-consuming fire that threatened to overtake her.

Quentin stepped down from the gazebo and embraced Maggie, who had ran into his arms. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life, as when the pitchfork sign appeared on his hand. It controlled his every move, his every desire. The pitchfork sign told him to love Maggie Evans with all his heart, and he did.

"My love," Quentin murmured, reaching behind Maggie's head and pulling her to his lips. Electric shocks traveled up and down his body as they kissed.

Barnabas stared jealously out the window as Julia talked to him. He was only half-listening as Julia prattled on about Windcliff. Suddenly, Julia stopped. "Barnabas!" she exclaimed sharply.

Barnabas turned guiltily and had the decency to look a little ashamed. "Yes, Julia?"

Julia drew in her breath in exasperation. "I asked if you would prefer asking Angelique's help rather than going to Windcliff?"

Barnabas pulled himself away from the window and walked towards the fireplace. "Angelique? How could she help?"

"Maybe she could use her witchcraft, Barnabas! I know she wasn't responsible for your curse, this time, but perhaps she would know of a way to end it!" Julia knew that Angelique Rumson was no longer abstaining from using her powers after creating the Shadow Monster to use on Jeb Hawkes. "She claims to be on our side now, Barnabas! Let her prove it."

Barnabas shook his head to say no, but all he could think about was Maggie. Out in the garden, with Quentin... "All right Julia. I'll ask Angelique to help. But let me ask on my own. I've know her for far longer than you have."

"Please do, Barnabas. If Angelique can't help, then you must go to Windcliff," Julia begged. "Tomorrow night, before it's too late!"

Act Three:

After bidding a hasty good-bye to Julia, Barnabas rushed out of Collinwood. But instead of heading towards the Old House, he went out to the garden and hid discreetly behind a wall and listened to Quentin and Maggie make love.

"Come to my room tonight," Quentin said to Maggie, kissing her neck.

"Oh Quentin, what will the Collins do if they catch me?" Maggie gasped. "I'm the children's governess! I'll be fired!"

"Don't worry about it!" Quentin said between kisses. "No one will catch us!"

"You don't know that!" Maggie said as she began to unbutton his shirt.

"If they do fire you, I'll marry you!" Quentin proclaimed. He began to untuck his shirt out of his pants as he led Maggie to the bench of the gazebo.

Barnabas stared at Quentin with evil intent. If he bit Quentin, he would bite him to kill. He would make sure of it! Barnabas' fangs glittered in the moonlight.

Sitting on Quentin's lap, Maggie reached down and grabbed Quentin's hand on her thigh. "Quentin, please! I want to be with you, but…" She pleaded with her big brown eyes. "Not here. I'll meet you in your room, I promise."

Quentin's eyes lit up. "Promise?" He grabbed both her hands in his, their pitchfork signs side-by-side. "Half an hour. I'll be waiting!" He kissed her passionately again, then got up and practically ran back to the house. He turned and smiled and waved. "I'll be waiting!"

Maggie smiled and tried to get her breathing back under control, smoothing back her hair and straightening up her skirt. Behind her, Barnabas emerged from the dark shadows of the garden, his fangs ready to pierce the neck of another victim…


Elizabeth Stoddard... JOAN BENNETT

Barnabas Collins... JONATHAN FRID


Carolyn Hawkes... NANCY BARRETT

Dr. Julia Hoffman... GRAYSON HALL

Quentin Collins... DAVID SELBY

Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
Reaction score
Rhode Island
Episode 982: The Last Night, Part 2

Tue. Mar. 31, 1970

A Fateful Night on the Great Estate of Collinwood… For Jeb Hawkes has died, and Barnabas Collins will finally face the ultimate consequence of his deal with the Leviathans… Once again a creature of the night, Barnabas secretly watches as two lovers meet under the stars…

"Come to my room tonight," Quentin Collins said to Maggie Evans, kissing her neck.

"Oh Quentin, what will the Collins do if they catch me?" Maggie gasped. "I'm the children's governess! I'll be fired!"

"Don't worry about it!" Quentin said between kisses. "No one will catch us!"

"You don't know that!" Maggie said as she began to unbutton his shirt.

"If they do fire you, I'll marry you!" Quentin proclaimed. He began to untuck his shirt out of his pants as he led Maggie to the bench of the gazebo.

Barnabas stared at Quentin with evil intent. If he bit Quentin, he would bite him to kill. He would make sure of it! Barnabas' fangs glittered in the moonlight.

Sitting on Quentin's lap, Maggie reached down and grabbed Quentin's hand on her thigh. "Quentin, please! I want to be with you, but…" She pleaded with her big brown eyes. "Not here. I'll meet you in your room, I promise."

Quentin's eyes lit up. "Promise?" He grabbed both her hands in his, their pitchfork signs side-by-side. "Half an hour. I'll be waiting!" He kissed her passionately again, then got up and practically ran back to the house. He turned and smiled and waved. "I'll be waiting!"

Maggie smiled and tried to get her breathing back under control, smoothing back her hair and straightening up her skirt. Behind her, Barnabas emerged from the dark shadows of the garden, his fangs ready to pierce the neck of another victim.

"Barnabas!" A man's voice shouted out from the darkness.

Maggie turned and gasped in the direction of the sandy-haired man who emerged from the path of the Old House. "Willie Loomis!" She turned and looked behind her to see Barnabas standing awkwardly. "Barnabas, I didn't see you there!"

Willie glared over at Barnabas as he walked towards Maggie and put a hand on her shoulder. "Yes, Barnabas, don't you know it's dangerous to be out here all alone in the middle of the night?"

"I was just about to go home when I saw Maggie," Barnabas tried to explain rather nervously. "I was about to check if she needed an escort back to the house."

"I can take Maggie back to the house, Barnabas," Willie told the older man, slipping his arm across Maggie shoulders.

Maggie pulled away, and glanced down at the pitchfork sign fading away from her hand. "I can take care of myself!" Although he had supposedly been cured from his delusions, Willie Loomis still made her nervous. She would probably never get back the three months he stole from her.

"But, Maggie, what about the attacks?" Willie asked, glancing over at Barnabas with an accusatory look on his face. Barnabas looked down with shame.

"I thank both of you for your concern, but I think I can make it to the front door of the house all by my helpless self!" Maggie told them firmly. "Good-night, Barnabas. Good-night Willie." As Maggie walked back to the house, she looked down and saw that the pitchfork sign was completely gone.

Willie walked over to Barnabas with his arms crossed. "Well, Barnabas, I don't have to ask what would have happened to Maggie if I hadn't shown up when I did." Willie was not usually so forthcoming with him, but as far as Maggie Evans was concerned, Willie was not about to hold back.

Barnabas sighed. "I know, Willie!" He shook his head with sadness at the shaggy-haired younger man. "I can no longer help myself! Come!" he patted Willie on the back and started out of the garden to the path to the Old House. "We must put an end to this… Tonight!"

Act One:

Dr. Julia Hoffman sat in Carolyn Hawkes' bedroom, reading a book while the younger woman slept. She had persuaded Elizabeth to rest for a few hours while she stayed with Carolyn. Julia was used to getting by on only a couple hours of sleep each night, and maybe a short nap in the afternoon.

Carolyn slept with aid from the sedative, but much of it was fretful. She mumbled in her sleep incoherently, but once in a while a discernible word was uttered.

"Dark… mumble… Water!" Carolyn tossed and turned. "Breathe… mumble… Salty…" Carolyn writhed in her sleep as she tried to kick her covers off.

Concerned, Julia put her bookmark back in the novel and placed it on the little table. She got up and went to the blonde young woman and stroked her hair and face motherly.

"Help… mumble… Dark!" Carolyn shook and writhed, grabbing at Julia's hands and face with her eyes shut. "Breathe… mumble… Cold!"

Julia grabbed onto Carolyn's hands and tried to reassure her. "Carolyn, you're safe. You're in bed, in your own room. Nothing can harm you."

Suddenly, Carolyn sat up, awake, and screamed. "Oh God, help me! I can't swim!" She grasped at Julia's arms. "I'm drowning!"

Julia put an arm around the younger woman and rubbed her shoulders. "You're safe, Carolyn! You're safe and you're warm. You're all right."

"Julia!" Carolyn gasped. "It was so real! I was in darkness. I couldn't breathe." She shuddered and looked around the room.

"Just take deep breaths," Julia told her, patting her back.

There was a light knocking on the door. "Carolyn?" Maggie's voice could be heard. "Are you all right?"

Julia got up to answer the door. She opened it a crack. "Carolyn just had a bad dream, Maggie. I've been sitting up with her. Elizabeth doesn't feel like she should be alone tonight."

Maggie nodded understandingly. She hadn't liked Jeb Hawkes, but she understood the grief from losing a loved one all too well. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Not at the moment," Julia said looking back quickly towards Carolyn. Julia turned and glanced down at Maggie's neck. "Have you seen Barnabas since we were all downstairs?"

Maggie nodded. "Yes, actually I just saw both him and Willie down in the garden. I was just outside for some air. I'm afraid I might have been too abrupt with them, but I was startled when they both appeared out of nowhere."

"Yes, I'm sure you were," Julia said understandingly. "Maggie, I just realized I need to see Barnabas about something. Do you think you could come back in about twenty minutes and sit with Carolyn? I can give her another sedative before I go."

"All right Julia," Maggie agreed. She pretended to be going back to her own bedroom, but as soon as Julia shut the door to Carolyn's room, Maggie opened the door to the West Wing to go to see Quentin.

As Maggie walked down the West Wing corridor, she wondered to herself what the strange symbol that kept appearing on her hand meant. Although the pitchfork sign was gone now, she still felt something for Quentin. Although it was not as intense as when the symbol was on her hand, she realized that she was beginning to fall in love with him.

When she reached the door to Quentin's antechamber, she drew a deep breath and knocked timidly. After a few moments, Quentin opened the door, smiling shyly as he stood in the doorway. "You decided to come, after all," Quentin said softly. He stood back and allowed Maggie to enter...

Act Two:

The room was lit only by candlelight. Soft music played on the antique Victrola, and white wine chilled in an ice bucket next to two glasses on the small round table. Quentin had certainly been busy. Maggie noticed that the pitchfork sign was no longer on his hand, as well.

Maggie turned to Quentin. "Quentin, I…" Maggie was at a loss of words. Although she did not feel the lust she had before, she felt that she still wanted to be with him.

"You don't love me?" asked Quentin. He too realized he was feeling love for Maggie, with or without the symbol.

"No, of course I do!" Maggie exclaimed. "I just think that we've rushed into this. I love you, but I can't explain why. I barely know anything about you. I want to know more about you."

Quentin stepped closer and put his hands on her upper arms. "And I want to know more about you, too." He kissed her softly on the lips. "Why don't we sit and talk about us. Find out who Maggie Evans and Quentin Collins are."

Maggie reached up and stroked his pale, handsome face. "I would like that very much. But it will have to be another time. I'm sorry Quentin, but Carolyn needs me right now. Julia asked me to sit by her. She isn't taking Jeb's death well, at all."

Quentin scowled and sighed deeply. "Damn that Jeb Hawkes. Even in death he's causing unhappiness."

Maggie nodded. "But at least he isn't coming back. We'll help Carolyn get over him. But Quentin, there's one more thing. I have to let Barnabas know about us. I have to give him Josette's ring back. I realized how foolish I was to throw it in the fireplace, so I got it out afterwards."

Quentin suddenly felt very possessive. "I want you to stay away from Barnabas!" It wasn't just the jealousy talking, Quentin feared what Barnabas would do to Maggie. "Send Mrs. Johnson with the ring, or Julia!"

"Quentin!" Maggie gasped. "Barnabas deserves an explanation in person. I know he cares more than he lets on!"

"All right Maggie," Quentin conceded, drawing her into his arms for one final kiss. "Why don't we go to the Old House tomorrow evening, to tell him the news together?"

"Yes, together," Maggie agreed. She shuddered. For some reason she could not explain, just the mere mention of the Old House gave her a slight chill…

Meanwhile, at the Old House, Barnabas stood with Willie out front gazing at the moon and stars, listening to the sound of the crickets chirping. "This is it, Willie. The last night I will ever see."

Willie glanced over at the older man, who had once been his master, but was now his friend. "What do you mean, Barnabas? The last night?" He did not like the sound of it.

Barnabas sighed, then turned and started to walk into the house. Willie followed him. "Just what I mean. Once I enter my coffin before sunrise, I want you to chain it up and never let me free again!" Barnabas hooked his wolf's-head cane on the coat rack slowly, and then began to remove his cape.

Willie shut the door behind them, shaking his head. "No-no, Barnabas! I can't do that! What about Julia? She can still help. What about Windcliff? She was talking about taking you there today."

Barnabas shook his head sadly and entered the drawing room. "No Willie, not this time." He stood and warmed his hands in front of the fireplace. "Julia has already tried injections. If it didn't help here, it won't help anywhere else."

"Then what about Angelique?" Willie persisted. "She's a witch, Barnabas! If anyone can help, she can!"

"I will not ask Angelique for help!" Barnabas said sternly. "And don't you dare ask her yourself!" He walked towards the window and looked out. "Whatever Angelique has done in the past, she did not cause this curse! The man responsible is lying in his watery grave!"

Willie grimaced and shook his head. "Yeah, I've been thinking about that, Barnabas. If Jeb Hawkes is dead wouldn't the curse have gone with him?"

"Apparently not, Willie," Barnabas answered mournfully. "I've already attacked Sabrina, Carolyn… and almost Maggie tonight!" He turned to Willie. "We've wasted enough time. Come! Let us get this over with ~ it's almost morning." Barnabas picked up an envelope on the table. "I've written to Maggie, explaining that I had to go. Make sure she gets this." He then walked over to the bookcase, and mustering up his resolve pulled the secret lever hidden behind a book that opened up the Secret Room.

With a great creaking noise, the bookcase moved aside, revealing the old room where Barnabas' coffin lay in wait. Barnabas peered into the dark room, feeling hesitant now. "In the morning, I want you to chain the coffin after I've lain myself to rest in it. Then, I never want you to come back. Go and have a happy life with your Roxanne, and try to forget you ever knew me." Barnabas turned and looked at the unhappy young man, unsure of how to proceed with his good-bye.

Willie felt sad and fearful all at once. His lip trembled, and he felt as though he wanted to cry. Yes, after all the pain and misery that had happened over the last three years, Willie Loomis was going to cry over Barnabas Collins. "I could never forget Barnabas. I hope I can have the strength to stay away." Willie reached over to grasp Barnabas' hand in a farewell handshake.

Barnabas took Willie's hand, but now that he was close to him, he could see the pulse beat in Willie's neck. He could hear Willie's heart beating like a hammer. Barnabas let go of Willie's hand and turned quickly. "Let us go in," he said gruffly. He stepped into the Secret Room with a small lamp and set it on a shelf.

Willie walked over to the coffin slowly. This was the hardest thing he had ever had to do. Gulping down the tears that threatened to spill out of his eyes, Willie grabbed the lid and lifted it up one last time. Barnabas drew close behind him, and tried not to think about the sound of Willie's heart beat. He could now smell the blood coursing through Willie's veins. That, mixed with the scent of Willie's sadness, sent Barnabas' fangs protruding downwards to their full extent.

"Okay, Barnabas," Willie sighed and turned around to face him. "I guess this is it."

Suddenly, Barnabas grabbed the slighter man in his tight embrace. With one arm around Willie's waist like a vice, his other hand grasping the back of Willie's neck, Barnabas drew back his own head, fangs ready to strike...

Act Three:

"Barnabas, no!" Willie screamed, feeling the sharp fangs penetrate through his neck-skin like pointy razors. "Stop it!" Willie felt himself begin to grow faint as the vampire sucked the life-blood out of him. Struggling, Willie grabbed under his shirt, fumbling at the top buttons of his flannel before it was too late.

"Barnabas…" Willie's legs began to grow limp, but Barnabas held him up like a ragdoll. Finally, Willie managed to grab what he was wearing under his shirt, and with his last bit of strength, managed to lift it up on its chain to face Bar-nabas up close. "Look!"

"Aauugghh!" Barnabas screamed hoarsely, opening his eyes to see a crucifix staring right at him. He threw Willie to the stone floor with a hard thud and turned to shield his eyes from the offensive religious symbol. "No!"

Barnabas turned to run out of the Secret Room. "Barnabas!" Julia screamed at the entrance. She held up her own crucifix to stop Barnabas from running away, or attacking her as well. "It's no use Barnabas," she told him, forcing the cowering vampire back towards the coffin.

Barnabas shielded his eyes. "Julia, how could you do this to me?" He turned away, but Willie was leaning against the coffin with one hand, his other hand holding up his crucifix in front of him. "Aauugghh!" Barnabas screamed again.

"Get in the coffin, Barnabas," Julia commanded. She stood next to Willie, who was dabbing at his neck with a handkerchief with his free hand. Barnabas meekly obeyed, climbing into the coffin.

"Please, Julia…" Barnabas begged. Once he was lying down, Julia set her large crucifix on Barnabas' chest, forcing him to lie motionless while she and Willie started to lower the coffin lid. Julia felt herself gasp as she looked down at Barnabas' face, but she refused to cry in front of Willie. Not now. Maybe later…

After they were done chaining the coffin, they closed up the bookcase and sat to rest in the drawing room for awhile with a brandy. "What will you do now, Julia?" Willie asked her, stroking the gauze pad Julia had taped to his neck.

"I think it's time that I left Collinwood for good," smiled Julia sadly, taking a sip from her brandy.

"Do you really think you could leave Collinwood?" asked Willie. "You've been here for so long, helping everyone."

"Yes," said Julia. "But without Barnabas, there doesn't seem much point." Julia recalled a similar conversation she and Willie had two years earlier when they thought Barnabas was dead. "I've always wanted to set up my own psychiatric practice. Maybe I will, now…"

Willie nodded and touched his bandaged neck. "I guess I'm free to be with Roxanne now. I can't ever tell her what went on here. She'd never believe me, anyway." Willie gulped down his brandy.

When they were done, Willie and Julia hugged good-bye. It was the first time they had ever been so intimate. Willie went upstairs to sleep for a little while in his old room, before he returned to Roxanne for good.

Julia watched him go, and she finally let a tear trickle down her cheek. "Good-bye Willie," she said raspily. She turned and looked at the bookcase in the drawing room. "Good-bye… Barnabas!" she gasped. She snuffed out the candelabra and left the room. Glancing one last time at the bookcase, she stopped by the wolf's-head cane, she touched it lightly, then picked it up and cradled it to her chest. She went out the front door, leaving the Old House for the final time…


Barnabas Collins… JONATHAN FRID


Carolyn Hawkes… NANCY BARRETT

Willie Loomis… JOHN KARLEN

Dr. Julia Hoffman… GRAYSON HALL

Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY

Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
Reaction score
Rhode Island
Episode 983: Happy Birthday, Amy

Wed. Apr. 1, 1970

A deceivingly peaceful morning at Collinwood... The birds chirp merrily, as the sun shines bright in the azure sky, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that will follow all those who reside at Collinwood in the weeks to come… For this is the last happy birthday young Amy Jennings will ever know...

Maggie Evans walked down the staircase to the Great Hall, following David Collins and Amy Jennings as they bounded with all the energy that only those who are thirteen years old can know. Maggie smiled, thinking of the reason for the happy occasion.

Elizabeth entered the hall from below the staircase. "Mrs. Johnson is waiting," she told them. "She made all your favorites for your birthday, Amy."

Amy's eyes lit up. "Oh boy, french toast with crispy bacon?" she asked, delighted. David rolled his eyes.

"Yes, french toast with powdered sugar and blueberries… and bacon." Elizabeth smiled.

"Are Carolyn and Jeb still here?" David asked.

Elizabeth and Maggie gave each other a look. "Jeb had to go out of town for a while," Elizabeth finally answered. "Carolyn is very tired. Dr. Hoffman is making sure no one bothers her, especially two young children."

"Teenagers," Amy corrected her. Now that she was thirteen, she was going to make sure everyone knew she was an honest-to-goodness teenager.

"Oh my... they certainly grow up fast," Elizabeth sighed at Maggie.

"Yes, Mrs. Stoddard," Maggie smirked, albeit a little wryly. She herself had had no choice in growing up too fast. She helped support her father from a very young age, doing odd jobs around the neighborhood until she could work in the Collinsport Diner. "You two go see Mrs. Johnson. I'll be there in a minute."

"All right," David answered. As he and Amy walked back towards the kitchen, he turned and whispered loudly towards Amy: "I wonder what really happened to Jeb?"

"Come into the drawing room with me for a moment," Elizabeth told Maggie. The younger woman followed her. Elizabeth walked over to the desk and picked up an envelope that said Maggie on it. "I had a visit from Willie Loomis this morning. Apparently, Barnabas had to return to England on the spur-of-the-moment. He asked Willie to give you this."

Maggie took the envelope from Elizabeth's hand. She hesitated for a moment, turning the envelope over between her fingers. She noted how stylish and old-fashioned her name looked in Barnabas' handwriting. "Willie was here? Did he say when Barnabas was coming back?"

"Willie said that he had no idea if or when Barnabas was coming back," Elizabeth told her. "Would you like me to leave the room?" she asked, noticing how hesitant Maggie was to open the envelope.

Maggie blushed a little. She suddenly felt a wave of guilt pass over her when she remembered how romantic she and Quentin had been last night. "Oh, no! It's all right Eliz… Mrs. Stoddard!" She quickly tore open the envelope and pulled the letter out, unfolding it before reading out loud. It was, of course, written out in Barnabas' perfect calligraphy…

"My dearest Maggie,

You don't know how difficult I find it to write these words to you. Old matters back in England have come up that I had thought were long ago settled. Unfortunately, it looks as though I shall be returning to my native soil ~ perhaps, indefinitely. Although the circumstances of the last few months have not been ideal, I have immensely enjoyed the limited time we have spent together. I realize now that perhaps I have made more of our relationship in my admittedly romantic mind. I have sensed for quite some time that your heart truly lies with another ~ not with an old romantic fool such as myself. I harbor no ill-feeling towards you, Maggie. Please know that. I want you to keep Josette's ring as a memento.

Yours truly, Barnabas Collins

Maggie looked up from the letter, realizing that last night, when she saw Barnabas with Willie in the garden, it might have been for the last time. "Oh, Barnabas," she murmured…

Act One:

"Barnabas?" Chris Jennings exclaimed. "Barnabas left?" His dirty blonde hair was disheveled and brown stubble covered his handsome, but tired face. He poured his and Quentin's coffees at the back of the cottage and brought them over to the sofa where he had spent the night, the afghan folded over sloppily.

"Yes," Quentin answered, moving the afghan away to make room for Chris to sit beside him on the sofa. "Julia told me about it. Barnabas feels it would be best for everyone if he returned to England… after everything that's happened.

Chris was tired, but skeptical. He narrowed his eyes before taking a sip of coffee. "I don't understand, Jeb Hawkes and Sky Rumson are dead. Why leave now?"

Quentin sipped some coffee before answering. He stared ahead, not looking at his same-age great-grandson. "Barnabas felt like it was his fault ~ he brought the Leviathans here. And no one knows where Nicholas Blair is. He or someone else might come along and try to get revenge against him."

"But the attacks lately," Chris pressed on. "What about Sabrina, and the other women in the village? We've got to get to the bottom of this. Barnabas said he would help find the culprit. How can he leave at a time like this?"

"I have a feeling the attacks are over with…" Quentin tried to reassure him.

Chris felt angry. "A feeling? Why does Sabrina keep moaning for Barnabas in the other room? Why is it that every time something bad happens, Barnabas just happens to be in the middle of it? What got him so involved with the Leviathans in the first place?" Chris got up and started to pace the room, holding his mug in his hands. "Unless…" Chris took another sip of coffee.

Quentin sat his mug down on the table. "Look, Chris, it doesn't matter now. Barnabas has left, the Leviathans have broken up. Sabrina will recover. All we have to do know is deal with the curse."

Chris whipped around. "The curse! That's it! Barnabas is the one, isn't he?" Seeing the look on Quentin's face, Chris shook his head incredulously. "All this time, it's been staring me in the face. Barnabas is cursed, too!"

Quentin got up from the couch to move towards Chris. "Come on, now, Chris." He put his hand on Chris's shoulders. "You know we're the only two werewolves in Collinsport!"

Chris nodded, "Werewolves, yes! But Barnabas is a vampire!" Chris pulled away from Quentin and walked towards the fireplace. "It all makes so much sense! There's always been something strange about Barnabas! But these vampire attacks started soon after Jeb came to town. Barnabas must have done something to upset them, that's why Jeb turned him into a vampire!"

Quentin looked defeated. He no longer had the strength to protect Barnabas and keep lying to Chris. "Chris, Barnabas is gone now. Julia and Willie took care of everything."

Chris stepped back towards Quentin. "Julia! Willie! How many more people have known about this? Were you all just going to let Sabrina die to protect Barnabas?"

Quentin turned red. "Of course not!" he admonished. "We've done everything we could to protect her. Look, Julia has assured me that she and Willie have chained him up somewhere."

Chris walked right up to Quentin and grabbed his jacket lapels roughly. "Where is he, Quentin? Where? Barnabas should be destroyed!"

Quentin grabbed Chris's wrists. "Then we might as well destroy ourselves as well, Chris. How much suffering have we caused, under our curse?"

Chris released his hands from Quentin's jacket and looked away. "If Sabrina and Amy didn't need me, I would destroy Barnabas, then you, and then myself…"

Quentin shook his head. "Chris, you can't mean that. There's always hope..." Quentin pulled his great-grandson into a tight hug. "Where there's still life, there's still hope." Quentin wondered to himself if he really meant it…

Act Two:

Maggie, David, and Amy returned to Collinwood after the early movie matinee in somewhat cheerful spirits. "Boy, that airplane movie sure was exciting. I thought the plane would crash during the snowstorm for sure! Thanks for suggesting it Amy!"

"I wanted to see something you would like too, David," Amy told him.

"Well, I certainly enjoyed it," Maggie said to them. "I'm just glad everyone is getting along for once."

Elizabeth walked into the hall from the Drawing Room, making sure to close the doors behind her. "I'm glad you all had a good time. I miss the old black-and-white movies, myself." She smiled at Amy. "Why don't you go upstairs and let Maggie help you into the new party dress we picked out?"

"All right, Mrs. Stoddard," Amy agreed, "I sure hope Chris and Sabrina are coming over for my party," Amy said.

Maggie and Elizabeth shared another look, and Maggie hurried up the stairs after a bounding Amy. Elizabeth turned to David. "David, before you put on your new suit and tie…" David grimaced in disgust… "I want you to come into the drawing room. I have something to show you before the party."

Elizabeth turned around and opened the Drawing Room doors. David followed his aunt in, and instantly felt a little jealous. His birthday was spent in a coma last year. Party streamers adorned the wood walls and colorful balloons were tied to the furniture in bunches. Mrs. Johnson had laid out the finest silver on a specially set up table with a large punch bowl filled with Hawaiian Punch and club soda.

David was mystified as to what his aunt could possibly want to show him on Amy's birthday. "What is it, Aunt Elizabeth?" he asked. His eyes narrowed when he saw the matriarch pick up some pamphlets off of the desk.

"These are for you," Elizabeth declared, holding the pamphlets out to her nephew. "Your father and I have had a talk while you were out, and we both think this would be a great opportunity for you." She smiled, trying to make it seem as though it were the most wonderful thing in the world.

David gingerly took the glossy booklets from his aunt and stared at them for a moment, not fully comprehending the extent of what was going on at first. "Morningwood Prep… Prep-a-tory School… Rockspring Academy… Oakley Prep... School... What are these for, Aunt Elizabeth?"

"These brochures are for the finest boarding schools in and around Boston. Your father has had them for quite awhile, now." Elizabeth clasped her hands. "I didn't think it was necessary before, but after everything that has happened over the past year…"

David looked dismayed. "Boarding school? Oh, Aunt Elizabeth! I don't want to leave Collinwood! Or you, or Amy!" He tried to hand the pamphlets back to his aunt, but she wouldn't take them.

"Let's sit down for a moment and talk about it," Elizabeth told him. She turned and sat down on the sofa. David followed her. "David, so much has happened lately, I'm worried about what effect it's had on you." She leaned over and put her old hand on his young, smooth one. "First your coma when we had to live at the Old House, then losing your friend, Michael… Now Jeb has… gone away for the foreseeable future. I just think a change of scenery would do you a world of good."

David shook his head. "But I love it here, Aunt Elizabeth. I have my photography, and the beach, and Quentin was going to help me build a fort…"

"But what about your schooling, David?" Elizabeth asked him. "You're going to be high school age this fall. I think you should have friends your own age, and classes, and some independence so that you will be prepared for college."

"I don't want to go to college!" David admonished. "Why can't Maggie keep teaching me? Why can't things stay the way they are?"

"If you want to run the cannery and fishing fleet someday, you'll have to go to college. And Maggie only has a high school diploma, David. You need more advanced classes than she can provide to help you get into a good college."

David scowled. He mind raced quickly to figure out a way of getting out of going. Was it possible he could convince Aunt Elizabeth he was doing so well at Collinwood, that she would forget about sending him away? "Will it be okay if I just think about it for awhile, Aunt Elizabeth?" David tried to change his expression to an almost pleasant one.

Elizabeth smiled. "Of course, David. You think about it, and your father will take you to Boston to tour each school to see them in person… Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!" David exclaimed, horrified…

Act Three:

"Tomorrow?" Quentin asked, incredulously.

"Yes," Chris nodded. "Julia gave Sabrina a thorough examination. She thinks she'll be up and about as early as tomorrow!"

They were standing in the foyer of Collinwood. Amy's birthday party was going on in the Drawing Room. "That's good news!" Quentin smiled, patting Chris on the back.

"I also think it's time I popped the question to Sabrina. Things have got to go our way for once… They just gotta."

Quentin stepped forward and hugged him warmly. "Well, you have my blessing... Who knows, maybe it'll be a double-wedding," Quentin said, thinking of a certain brown-haired young woman.

Chris looked at him quizzically, but before he could ask, Amy spotted him and came running into the drawing room in her pretty pink party dress.

"Chris! You made it!" she screeched, flinging herself into his arms.

Chris looked down at the young girl in the party dress, then looked towards the Drawing Room as if noticing it for the first time. "Oh… my…"

"I just knew you would come! Where's Sabrina?" she asked, staring up at him with her huge eyes.

"She... she's sick, Amy. Dr. Hoffman says she'll be better tomorrow." Chris looked at Quentin like a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

"Well, make sure you bring her a piece of my birthday cake! Come on, let's go look at all of my presents!" Amy grabbed Chris by the arm and dragged him to the Drawing Room.

Chris turned around and mouthed Help Me at Quentin. Quentin just smirked and followed the two into the other room. David and Elizabeth stood at the punch bowl, David dressed in his suit looking forlorn, while he poured his aunt a cup of punch with a sherbet scoop floating in it.

"Did you bring me a present?" Amy asked of Chris, indicating the small pile of gifts on the piano.

"Gift-gifts?" Chris stammered, looking over at Quentin. "I'm sorry, Amy, I…"

"Knew I was going to forget to bring it over from the cottage," Quentin came to the rescue, "So my thoughtful friend Quentin picked it up and brought it over." Quentin reached into his jacket and pulled out a small wrapped gift. "Here you go Amy. This is the gift Chris picked out for you." Quentin handed Amy the small parcel and winked at Chris discreetly. "He wrapped it himself."

"Oh, please Chris, can I open it now?" Amy begged excitedly.

Chris looked over at Quentin with gratitude shining in his eyes. Or was it something else? He turned back to his little sister. "Yes, darlin'. You may go ahead and open it."

Amy unwrapped the gift with much ferocity and uncovered a little jewelry box. She slowly lifted up the lid and peered inside. "Oh, Chris! It's beautiful!" She lifted up a crystal daisy pendant. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Chris smiled. He turned to silently thank Quentin, but he had already slipped out of the room. Chris turned back to Amy. "Here, let me help you put it on."

Amy lifted up her brown pigtails and turned around so that Chris could fasten the chain around her neck. Just then, Maggie could be heard coming from the kitchen, singing "Happy Birthday". Soon, everyone joined in, and Maggie came around the corner with a beautiful pink cake with fourteen candles on top.

After setting it down on the table in front of Amy, the others stood in a semi-circle ~ Maggie, Elizabeth, David and Chris ~ and Amy contemplated her birthday wish…

"Please God," Amy thought, "Let us be happy this year. Let Chris and Sabrina and me be a family." Amy blew out the candles…


Elizabeth Stoddard… JOAN BENNETT


David Collins… DAVID HENESY

Chris Jennings… DON BRISCOE


Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY

Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
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Rhode Island
Episode 984: While The Vampire's Away...

Thu. Apr. 2, 1970

A somber day at Collinwood, for Julia Hoffman and Willie Loomis have chained Barnabas in his coffin, perhaps for forever… Knowing that she can no longer stay at Collinwood with all its memories, Julia decides that she must return to a normal life at Windcliff.....

Julia stood at the table in the Great Hall of Collinwood talking on the phone. "Yes, I understand… Yes, I know their case history… I'll see for myself when I arrive tomorrow…" There was a rapping at the front door. "I have to go, there's someone at the door."

Julia hung up the phone and walked over to the front doors, opening them. "Angelique!" she exclaimed, surprised. Although she shouldn't have been, considering how Angelique felt about Barnabas!

Angelique smiled, with her big blue eyes sparkling. "Good afternoon, Julia!" She did not appear to be distressed or concerned about Barnabas' disappearance in any way.

"What are you doing here?" Julia finally asked, suspicious. She stood in the doorway, not budging.

Angelique raised her eyebrows. "What a greeting, Julia! I'm here to see Mrs. Stoddard. Won't you let me come in?"

Angelique stepped forward a little, and Julia finally stepped aside. Angelique came through the doorway and smiled pleasantly at Julia, looking around with curiosity.

Julia closed the double doors and turned to her. "Is it really Mrs. Stoddard you've come to see, or is it about someone else," she stressed pointedly.

Angelique turned with mock surprise. "Why Mrs. Stoddard, of course! After she and Carolyn came to stay with me in my home, I only wanted to have a little visit with them." The blonde witch smiled with radiant airiness. "After all, we are neighbors now!"

Julia scowled. "Neighbors? I thought you were only staying at the Old House by Barnabas' invitation?"

"Of course," Angelique answered matter-of-factly. "Barnabas told me I could stay as long as I liked." She leaned in close to Julia. "And I do like!"

"Even if Barnabas is not around to play host?" Julia demanded, tired of beating around the bush.

Angelique tilted her head questioningly. "Is Barnabas not around? I know he sleeps in his coffin during the day," she whispered.

Julia stared at the wicked beauty and nodded. "Yes, and you could change all that if you wanted to!"

Angelique turned and looked at the grandfather clock and stared at one of the mermaids etched onto it. "Could I change it?" she asked. "It was not I, Julia, who made Barnabas the way he is this time!"

"No," Julia agreed, walking up behind her. "But Jeb is dead, and you have the power to end the curse!"

Angelique turned and faced Julia. Was that a twinge of sadness Julia saw behind Angelique's smile? "No Julia, only Jeb Hawkes himself would have been allowed to end the curse! The price would be too high for me to interfere!"

"For you, or for Barnabas?" Julia demanded.

"Perhaps for both of us!" Angelique told her. She glanced over at the drawing room doors. "I know you and Willie have stashed him away somewhere, and that suits me fine, Julia. Maybe I would prefer that Barnabas stayed safely out of my way for awhile."

Julia narrowed her eyes. "What are you planning Angelique? Tell me!"

Angelique opened her big, beautiful eyes as wide as she could possibly manage, and smiled. "You'll see, Julia dear! I have big plans for the future ~ and this time, Barnabas won't be around to stop me!"…

Act One:

Elizabeth and Quentin sat in the Drawing Room on the sofa next to the fireplace. Elizabeth sat drinking some tea, while Quentin wolfed down another piece of pink birthday cake. Because of his portrait, Quentin could eat as voraciously as he wanted, and no extraneous weight would be added to his long, lean frame.

"I have big plans, Quentin," Elizabeth said, setting her teacup down on its saucer, "While Roger is taking David to Boston, I want to take Carolyn to Europe. After everything that's happened to her over the last few months, she needs to get away from Collinwood… From Collinsport, itself."

Quentin nodded. "I understand, losing a father and a husband in two months has to have a devastating effect on someone." He put down his fork. "When do you plan to leave?"

"We'll be leaving next Friday. But in the meantime, I need to know that I'm leaving the cannery in good hands. I have an excellent manager there, Quentin, but I need someone to work with him in case there are important decisions to be made. I want you to look after the cannery while we're gone, Quentin. Do you think you would be willing?"

Quentin looked a little dazed. He had not expected to have any responsibilities while staying with his new family. Responsibilities usually made him want to run as far away as he possibly could. "Oh, I don't know, Elizabeth…"

Elizabeth put on her best wounded puppy-dog face. "Please, Quentin. I know you haven't been around us very long, but you're family. I was hoping Barnabas would be the one, but he's gone away now. You're the only one left. I know in my heart I can trust you with all of this."

Quentin sighed and smiled warmly. He could never resist a beautiful woman, or man. "Oh, Elizabeth! I can't believe I'm going to go along with all this!" He took her hand. "I'll look after the cannery and the house while you're gone!"

Elizabeth smiled with relief. "Thank you, Quentin. I knew I could trust you to help me! And it will only be for a month, I promise." Elizabeth squeezed his hand and started to get up. "And who knows, maybe after the month is over, you'll continue to help run the cannery as a Vice-President!" She walked over to the desk.

Quentin grimaced comically. "Let's not go that far! Why don't we just get through the first month!"

Elizabeth picked up the Collinsport Star. "There was something else I wanted to discuss." She turned to Quentin, holding the newspaper with the classifieds section open. "I presume you have heard of the famous blind pianist, Laszlo Ferrari?"

Quentin leaned forward and clasped his hands over his knees. "Why yes, of course! Why do you ask?"

"I answered this Classifieds add this morning and Laszlo Ferrari's agent answered the phone number." She handed Quentin the paper and showed him the circled add. "Apparently, Ferrari is looking for a summer retreat to recharge, as his agent put it. He's been looking for a place to stay in Collinsport, and his agent thinks that Collinwood may be the perfect place."

Quentin looked at the advertisement and shook his head with both incredulity and admiration. "My, my, my! You have been busy with plans, haven't you? I know Ferrari is famous, Elizabeth, but are you sure you want another stranger living here?"

"I'm sure, Quentin. Ferrari's agent said he would be paying a substantial rent, not that that's very important ~ at least not to me ~ and that he would want a place to stay very soon ~ next week, in fact. My only regret is that Carolyn and I will be going away when he arrives. But Carolyn's mental well-being is more important, of course."

Quentin got up and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Well, Elizabeth, you just take care of Carolyn and enjoy your trip to Europe. Don't worry about things here. I'll take care of everything ~ the house, the cannery... and I'll be the most gracious host Laszlo Ferrari has ever seen… I promise you!"

Elizabeth smiled up at the handsome young man. She knew that she was leaving things in good hands. "Thank you, Quentin!" She turned and looked thoughtful. "So much is changing, lately! After all the bad things that have happened, I pray to God that only good things are in store for us!" If she could have turned and looked at Quentin just then, she would have seen his handsome brow creased with worry and concern…

Act Two:

David sat on his bed in his room scowling as he stared at the boarding school brochures his Aunt Elizabeth gave to him to look over. He ripped each one into tiny little pieces and threw them away from his bed as hard as he could. Someone of them fell to the floor, but others landed on the bed. David flicked each piece off of the bed angrily. He knew only bad things were in store for him.

Amy barged into David's bedroom without knocking. She twirled happily in front of him, showing off her pretty pink dress and holding her new Barbie in her hands. Even though she felt too old to play with dolls, Amy enjoyed getting a new one to display on her shelf. Still thinking of Amy as a little girl, David had grabbed it for her in a hurry at Brewster's Department Store without really giving it a second thought.

"Get out, Amy!" David said loudly. "You didn't knock!" He scowled with annoyance.

Amy ignored him. "Thank you for the new doll, David." She plopped down on the bed next to David with a hard bounce, and admired Barbie's orange mesh cover-up.

"Go away, Amy" David shouted. He was in too bad of a mood to deal with her right now.

"What's wrong, David?" Amy asked, stroking Barbie's hair. "What's bugging you?" she asked innocently.

David grimaced. "Boarding school! Aunt Elizabeth said I have to go! Well, I'm not!"

Amy looked worried. "Boarding school? Oh no, David! What will I do if you go away?"

"Who cares?" David stated. "I've got to figure out a way to get out of it!" He looked furtively around the room.

Maggie appeared in the doorway and looked in on the two youths. "David, your Aunt Elizabeth wants you to pack this afternoon so that you'll be ready to leave with your father bright and early tomorrow morning."

"I can't find my suitcases," David told her.

Maggie walked over to David's closet and opened the door. "I don't think you've looked very well," she said, walking into the closet and pulling out two suitcases.

"Oh, Maggie, please don't let them take David away!" Amy cried. Suddenly, she felt less like a grown-up thirteen-year-old and more like a small, anxious child.

"This is a good opportunity for David!" Maggie told them. "He can learn so much more in a Boston school than I could ever hope to teach him. I wish I could have had the same opportunities," Maggie sighed, thinking of her impoverished youth.

David got up from his bed and stood before Maggie. "But I don't want things to change. I hate having to start all over again. I don't know anyone there! I'll be all alone!"

Maggie pursed her lips. "David, do you remember when I first came here to be your governess, you resented me because I wasn't Vicky?" David nodded. "Well, after a while you got to know me better, and we became friends. But we never would have become friends if you hadn't given me a chance. Now, in Boston, you can give more people a chance to be your friend."

David looked pained. "But there will be so many people I have to get to know all over again. I remember when I had to go to school back in Augusta. They used to make fun of me there."

Maggie took his hand. "Don't underestimate yourself, David. I know you'll do just fine... Now, I'm going with you and Roger in the morning, so I also have to pack. I can't wait to go see the schools with you and your father." Maggie turned to Amy. "Amy, do you think you could help David out? I'll be leaving this checklist of things to bring on the trip." She set the list on David's desk. She smiled at the two younger teens and left the room.

"David, I don't want you to go away!" Amy looked fearful. Too many people had left her life in her past.

"Don't worry Amy," David looked thoughtful. "I'll make sure I ruin any chances of going to boarding school on this trip. I just have to make sure not one place wants me as a student!"…

Act Three:

"I would love to have you as a student!" Angelique exclaimed to Quentin. She sat next to Quentin on the sofa, with Julia on the chair beside them.

"I'm afraid I have a brown thumb, not a green one," Quentin shook his head with mock sadness.

"Oh, but I can just use my magic," Angelique replied, lightly touching Quentin's hand with her fingers. "You'll never have to pick up a three-pronged cultivator again."

Julia rolled her eyes and made a small clearing throat noise.

Quentin glanced over at Julia. "I wouldn't know a cultivator from a trowel."

"Oh," said Angelique, "It's just a small pitchfork." She stopped caressing Quentin's hand and leaned back, looking pleased with herself.

Just then, Elizabeth came into the drawing room, carrying the tea tray. "I brewed the new teabags you brought me, Angelique" Elizabeth said.

"Oh good, Elizabeth, I'm so pleased," Angelique smiled up at her.

"I think I better pass," Quentin said. "I just had some not too long ago with some birthday cake."

Angelique batted her big baby blues at him. "Oh, Quentin. I'm insulted. You've got to try my special tea! I made the tea and put them in bags myself… with my magic hands!" She caressed his hand again.

Quentin sighed. "Oh, all right! If you insist!" Elizabeth poured him a cup and handed it to him.

Julia looked suspiciously at Angelique. Just then, the phone rang. Elizabeth stopped her tea pouring, but Julia got up and waved a hand at her. "Don't worry, I'll get it," she told her friend. Julia went out to the Great Hall and answered the phone.

Quentin, Angelique and Elizabeth sat across from each other and sipped at the aromatic rose-scented herbal tea that Angelique brought. "You must let me bring up some tea to Carolyn," Angelique told Elizabeth. "It has a very therapeutic effect. I know what losing a husband is like, all too well…"

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded. "I can't believe that all three of us have lost husbands in such a short time. That's why it's so important I take Carolyn away for awhile."

"I hope your trip brings you and Carolyn much happiness," Angelique told her, seemingly genuine, this time.

"Yes," Quentin agreed, clinking his teacup to Angelique's. "We all deserve happiness."

Julia could be heard hanging up the phone in the foyer. She walked back into the drawing room, looking thoughtful. "That was Windcliff," she told the trio. "It seems they have a new case for me on my first day back ~ a mysterious young amnesiac was brought in today. A John Doe… He was found up the coast on the beach this morning."

"How interesting!" Angelique exclaimed. Elizabeth and Quentin both nodded in agreement.

"A John Doe?" Elizabeth asked. "Was there no identification on the man?"

Julia shook her head. "According to the doctor on duty, no one has any idea who he is."

"You said on your first day back… Are you leaving us, Dr. Hoffman?" Angelique asked innocently.

Julia arched an eyebrow, realizing that Angelique probably wanted her out of the way for her own selfish reasons. "For the time being. Now that Barnabas has gone away, I thought it best that I concentrate fully on my work…"

"Yes," Angelique agreed. "I think it's time that we both went back to what we do best…" she smiled her wicked smiled, glancing over towards the tall, dark, handsome man who sat beside her, sipping her special tea…


Elizabeth Stoddard… JOAN BENNETT


David Collins… DAVID HENESY

Dr. Julia Hoffman… GRAYSON HALL

Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER


Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY

Victor Winters

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Episode 985: Return To Windcliff

Fri. Apr. 3, 1970

A day of new beginnings here at Collinwood… For Julia Hoffman is leaving for Windcliff, knowing there is no future here without Barnabas Collins... And also Maggie Evans must say good-bye to the man she has loved for the past few weeks, not knowing that love will end as fleetingly as it began…

Maggie paced back and forth from the drawing room to the foyer, holding her cup of tea in her hands. Three different-sized plastic suitcases stood at the front entrance of Collinwood. From time to time, Maggie glanced at the grandfather clock, then to the upstairs door, where someone special would be sure to be coming through at any moment. Maggie sighed and took another worried glance over to the clock and went back into the drawing room.

Maggie sat on the sofa and sat her teacup down on the table. She had sent Roger and David away earlier ~ she promised she would meet them at the train station once her last good-byes were said. Roger was taking David to eat at the Collinsport Inn for a special breakfast that morning.

"Oh, Quentin… Where are you?" Maggie asked out loud. She grimaced and poured herself some more tea and cream. It was not calming at all…

Just then, Maggie heard the front doors open and close creakily. With a start, she stood and dropped her teaspoon to the silver tray with a loud CLATTER!

"Hello?" a woman's voice called out into the Great Hall of Collinwood. Maggie was disappointed, but went out to greet her, anyway.

"Good morning, Angelique!" Maggie did not know the blonde woman well, but she was a friend of Barnabas.

"I tried knocking, but I don't think anyone heard me," Angelique explained graciously. She smiled at Maggie and noticed the disappointment in the young brunette's eyes.

"Oh," said Maggie. She felt sure she would have heard the door-knocking. "I guess I was preoccupied." She glanced again in the general area of upstairs. "What brings you here, this morning?" Maggie asked.

"I came to see Julia," Angelique answered. "I wanted to talk to her about some things at the Old House." Angelique smiled sweetly. "You see, Barnabas said I could stay there for as long as I wanted while he was out of town…"

"Oh, that's nice," Maggie said distractedly. Where was Quentin? She turned to Angelique again. "Would you like some tea, Angelique?" She turned to walk back into the drawing room.

"Actually, Maggie, I prefer my natural herbal tea," Angelique said as she followed her to the sofa. "I have some in my purse."

Maggie sat back down on the sofa. "That sounds nice," said Maggie, as she poured some hot water into a teacup for her.

Angelique sat down beside her. "I never drink alone. Please, have some of my special tea with me." She smiled and touched Maggie's hand lightly.

"All right," Maggie nodded. She poured some hot water into a fresh cup. Angelique removed two tea bags from her purse and plunked them down into the teacups.

"Let these steep for a moment," Angelique told her. "Where is Julia?" she asked. "Has she already gone out this morning?"

"Actually, she has," Maggie nodded. "She said something about driving back to Windcliff…"

Angelique's eyes lit up with delight. "Good! It's about time everything returned to normal for once! I know that she misses Barnabas, as I do, and returning to work could be just what she needs!"

Maggie nodded in agreement, but she glanced at her wristwatch worriedly, wondering if she could possibly leave Collinwood… and Quentin…

Act One:

"I know you miss Barnabas, and going back to work could be exactly what you need!" Chris told Julia in the sitting area of his cottage. "I just wish you would stick around, for my own selfish reasons…"

Julia nodded understandingly. "I'm sorry, Chris, I know it would be easier for you if I were nearby, but with Barnabas gone… I just don't see how I could continue to live at Collinwood…"

"Yes," Chris nodded, anger simmering below the surface. "With Barnabas gone…" He got up from his sofa and turned away, clenching his fists.

Julia looked quizzically at Chris's back and set her coffee cup down. "Is there something wrong, Chris?"

Chris looked up and smiled incredulously at the dark shadows of the room. He wanted to scream that he knew, that Julia and Willie had hid Barnabas and his sins from the world. But he still needed Julia's help, and he wasn't sure how far he should take his anger out on her.

Julia stood up and stood behind the tall young man with the light brown hair. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you still worried about Sabrina?"

"Sabrina?" Chris asked, turning back to her and raising an eyebrow. Worried that Barnabas would attack her again?

Julia smiled reassuringly. "Trust me Chris, she's on her way. Her wounds are almost healed. She should be able to get out of bed by tomorrow morning! And return to her job at the library in a couple of days!"

Chris smiled back, but it was with insincerity. "Life goes on, for everyone…" He turned and paced. "And during the next full moon… Where will you be when I need you?"

"I'll always be there for you Chris!" Julia exclaimed.

Chris scowled as he paced. "Really? Like Barnabas… going back to England?" How Chris wanted to shout out that he knew the truth!

"My going back to Windcliff won't change our relationship, Chris! In fact, I've been thinking about a new way to help you, but I had decided not to tell you until I was sure!"

Chris stopped pacing and stared at Julia. "A new way to help me? What do you mean? A silver bullet between the eyes?"

"Of course not," she exclaimed, indignant. "I took the remains of the moon poppy that Sabrina tried to use during your last transformation. I was meaning to analyze it, but I've been too busy help-" Julia paused to stop herself from mentioning Barnabas. "I mean, with everything going on I just haven't had the time, but once I get back to Windcliff I'll have the time and equipment I need to make a thorough inspection of the poppy's properties!"

Chris shook his head with disbelief. "I didn't know, Julia! When Sabrina told me that the moon poppy was destroyed, I had lost hope. The only thing that's been keeping me alive lately is the knowledge that Sabrina needs me right now." Chris was starting to realize that maybe Barnabas' attacks on Sabrina was somehow a double-edged blade, as far as his continued existence was concerned.

"There's always hope, Chris!" Julia squeezed Chris's hand and smiled reassuringly, kindness in her big striking brown eyes.

"Hope," Chris whispered. Then, he said aloud: "That's almost exactly what someone said to me before, verbatim." He thought suddenly of Quentin, a strange unknown stirring fluttered in his chest.

"Hold on to it, Chris!" Julia told him. "I know that you and Sabrina and Amy will be a family! Just hold out for a little longer! If you need me at all before the next full moon, I'll leave you my direct number at Windcliff."

Chris realized he couldn't confront Julia about Barnabas. Not now, maybe never. She was a friend, and he did need her. "Let me know what you find out about the moon poppy. Good or bad~ I just have to know, either way!" The moon poppy that Sabrina had given him… But a little voice inside his head asked Chris if he was really in love with her, or was he just grateful…

Act Two:

Angelique and Maggie were still sitting in the drawing room, drinking her special rose tea. "You will miss Quentin very much," Angelique told her, light touching her hand with her own.

"Yes," said Maggie. "More than I've ever missed anyone in my whole life!" She took another sip of tea.

"You will dream about him every night, long for him every night!" Angelique moaned.

"Yes," said Maggie, taking another sip of tea. "Long for him, every… single… night!"

"But you will not be able to go to him," Angelique continued. "No matter how much you want Quentin Collins, you have to stay with Roger and David until your trip is finished!"

"Yes!" Maggie agreed. "Until our trip is finished!" Angelique was right. She did have her duty to the Collins family to consider before her relationship with Quentin, no matter how much it pained her to be away from him.

Angelique smiled triumphantly. "Yes, and when your trip is finished, you will run back to the arms of the man you love! Happy in the knowledge that the two of you will never be parted again!" Angelique sounded almost orgasmic by this point.

"No!" Maggie exclaimed. "Never again!"

"Your love is so great, that only Death can part you!" Angelique concluded, gasping one final time.

"Yes, yes! Only Death!" Maggie cried.

Angelique smiled and patted the younger brunette's hand. "And now, dearest Maggie, I do believe you have a train to catch. I hear Quentin coming down the stairs now."

Sure enough, the long, lean legs of Quentin carried him bounding down the stairs and into the drawing room. "Good morning, ladies!" He greeted, looking appreciatively at Angelique, barely noticing Maggie sitting there.

"Quentin!" Maggie exclaimed. She stood and quickly ran into Quentin, almost knocking him over, flinging her arms up around his neck. "Oh Quentin, I'm going to miss you so much!"

Quentin felt confused. He patted Maggie on the back, no longer feeling the lust he had felt for her over the past few weeks. In fact, he felt nothing. He was not quite sure how or if he should tell Maggie. "Well, yes, I'm going to miss you too…" He tried to give her his most brilliant toothpaste smile.

"I promise I'll write every day! I'll send pictures! I'll call in the evenings!" Maggie felt head-over-heels for Quentin. Somehow, her lust for him had grown over the past few weeks. She quickly checked her hand out of habit, but did not see the pitchfork symbol this time.

"Yes, yes, you do that!" Quentin told her and smiled. He looked over at Angelique, embarrassed. Angelique smiled sympathetically, and Quentin started to feel the pitter-patter of his heart once again.

"Maybe you could drive me to the train station?" Maggie asked. "I'm sorry I waited 'til the last minute, but I didn't want to leave without seeing you again!"

"Um… all right Maggie. I guess I can drive you." He looked over at Angelique. "I'm sorry I can't stay and entertain you…"

Angelique smiled and got up from the sofa. She walked over to Quentin and touched him lightly on his hand. "It's all right, Quentin. You drive Maggie to the train station, now. Since Julia isn't here, I'll just visit with Elizabeth and Carolyn. I've grown so fond of them since they stayed with me on Little Windward Island!"

Maggie felt a little jealous. "Come on, Quentin, we've got to hurry! The train will be here in fifteen minutes." She tugged on his arm like a little girl. Quentin helped Maggie by picking her largest plastic suitcase and holding a door open for her. He stared at Angelique one more time before he turned and headed out the door.

"Oh, Quentin," Angelique said out loud. "You will have plenty of opportunity to entertain me!"…

Act Three:

When Julia first arrived back at Windcliff, she got the feeling that her return surprised quite a number of people. Julia had spent the last three years working mostly as a consultant. That is to say, while she had her own office, she only came in to meet with and give advice about, special patients with problems that were considered out of the ordinary. After checking with the chief-of-staff, Dr. Bill Winters, she learned that the special patient this time was a young man, mid-twenties, found on the beach a few miles north of Collinsport, naked, and no memory or recognition of anything. She stopped at her desk after meeting with Dr. Winters and studied the John Doe's case file before going in to check on him. Julia also had brought along the damaged moon poppy with her. She opened the small cooler filled with dry ice and the crushed flower in a plastic bag and stared at it a moment, before closing the cooler back up and putting it away. She would worry about Chris later. Now, she was curious about this John Doe who had been brought in.

Julia walked down the corridors of Windcliff, stopping to exchange hellos with random doctors, nurses, or long-time patients she recognized. Pausing in front of Room 674, her hands trembled a little bit, as though there were some subconscious fear about what awaited her on the other side of the door. She narrowed her eyes, confused about the sudden fear that shivered up her spine. Julia was not easily frightened. She had faced a slimy tentacled monster, vampires, werewolves, man-made monsters of spare human parts, witches, warlocks and ghosts… So why did she feel such trepidation outside of this patient's room?

Julia shook her head, feeling a little silly. There was no reason to be frightened. None. Why, it was insane that she felt anything at all! She took a deep breath and gave the door a few sharp knocks. Not hearing an answer, she turned the doorknob and stepped into Room 674, closing the door behind her.

Julia turned and looked towards the bed, where a young man with curly blond hair sat up, staring forward, with cuts and bruises all over his face. "Good afternoon," she called out, a little raspily, as though something were stuck in her throat.

The young man turned towards her, not really acknowledging her, his cut-up face staring at her blankly. As Julia stepped towards him, she clutched his case file in her hand and let out an audible gasp, holding a hand backwards towards her mouth in a characteristic gesture. "Jeb…" she murmured. She stepped closer to the bed and peered at his face, not believing that she was really seeing what she thought she was seeing.

The blond young man continued to stare at her, blinking once or twice. "What did you say?" he asked, hoarsely, as if it were very hard for him to talk.

Julia stood beside him. "My name is Doctor Julia Hoffman. Do you know who you are?" she asked.

The young man shook his head. He tried to think of a name to tell her, but there was only blackness in his mind. "No, I have no idea."

"Does the name Jebez Hawkes mean anything to you?" she asked.

John Doe scrunched up his face. "Jebez Hawkes? What kind of name is that? It sounds like a hillbilly, or something?"

"Jeb Hawkes doesn't sound familiar?" Julia pressed. Despite the young man's cuts and bruises, he looked exactly like him.

John Doe shook his head. "No, it doesn't." He turned and looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. "What is this place, anyway?"

"This is a hospital," Julia answered. "Windcliff. It's a psychiatric hospital. You were brought here for observation."

John Doe scowled, staring at Julia with his little blue eyes. "Psychiatric hospital? I'm not a loony!"

"I'm sure you're not," Julia told him. "But when you were unresponsive to questioning you were brought to the nearest hospital, and then here for observation last night."

John Doe pulled the covers off his legs and started to get up. "Well, I'm sure as Hell not staying here! I'm not a crazy person and I feel fine!"

Julia put a hand on his shoulder. "Wait a moment, John!"

He stopped and looked at her. "John? Why did you call me that?"

"Since you did not have any identification on you, and since you say you don't remember who you are… do you remember who you are? Is there anything you can tell me about your life?"

John Doe thought a moment, but his mind was a complete blank. He could not remember anything before waking up in this room. "Nothing. But I tell you I'm not crazy. I don't belong here!"

"I can help you remember!" Julia tried to be as reassuring as possible. "It looks like you were in some sort of accident. You were found on the beach north of Collinsport, unconscious and naked."

"Collinsport?" John Doe murmured. What did Collinsport mean to him?

"Yes, Collinsport…" Julia stressed, hoping it would jog his memory. "It's a town about fifty miles south of here."

John Doe felt as though he needed to get there as soon as possible. He was not sure why, but it was a strong feeling… "Do I have to stay here? I mean, if I want to leave, can I?"

"Well… no, legally we can't keep you here after you've been observed for twenty-four hours," Julia was forced to admit, "But I strongly urge you to stay until you get your memory back."

John Doe turned and placed his feet down onto the floor. He was surprised at how sore he was, all over his body. "No Doctor Hoffman. I'm leaving here as soon as possible. I don't know what's waiting for me in Collinsport, but I've got to go and find out!" Julia looked at him, dismayed…



Dr. Julia Hoffman… GRAYSON HALL

Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER

Chris Jennings… DON BRISCOE

Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY


Victor Winters

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Episode 986: At The Blue Whale

Mon. Apr. 6, 1970

The town of Collinsport is a bustle of activity now that Spring has burst forth… Spring holds the promise of a fresh beginning ~ for those here in the busy village, and those who live up on the hill at Collinwood… But one man sits at the local tavern, wondering if his is a fresh beginning… or a dead-end with no answers…

The jukebox played loudly in the corner of the Blue Whale, a rustic, sea-flavored popular local spot for drinks and seafood. John Doe sat by himself at one side of the room at his own table, two empty beer bottles before him, drinking from an almost empty bottle in his hand.

John had left Windcliff that morning, despite Dr. Hoffman's objections, wearing an old sweatshirt, jeans, and moccasins a former orderly had left in a locker, and twenty dollars in his pocket. Julia had insisted that if he was going to leave the hospital, that he not be completely destitute, taking twenty dollars out of her own purse so that he could get a bus ticket.

So here he was, after a two-hour bus trip down to Collinsport, all on a hunch after just hearing the name Collinsport that that was where he belonged. But why was that? He had no memory before yesterday. What was he hoping to find here?

After riding down in the Greyhound bus, suffering the stares of other passengers who all must have been wondering just what kind of battle he had been in to have cuts and bruises all over him, he found himself standing alone at the bus-stop, wondering where he would go next. An impression of a bar formed in his mind, so after asking a passerby where the nearest popular watering hole was, he was given directions that took him here.

Here was the Blue Whale, a place he hoped that might offer something familiar, something that could help jog his memory, maybe even meet someone who knew he was…

Jebez Hawkes…

The name rung in his mind from earlier. Once again, Dr. Hoffman had asked if the name meant anything to him. But, of course it did not! John shook his head after downing the last of his beer. He was not Jebez Hawkes! The name meant nothing to him. He was himself, that much he was sure of…

Putting down the bottle to join the rest, John looked around the room, but it was still too early for the lunch crowd. The bartender, who did not seem to recognize him, or be recognizable, had slipped out to the kitchen area to attend to something. Suddenly, the front door opened, and a short, skinny young man with jet-black hair entered the bar.

John watched intently as the black-haired man made his way to the bar, a white cane tapping the floor in front of him. The young man was well, if not extravagantly, dressed in an expensive dark blue pin-striped suit that probably cost more than most men's weekly wages. He wore an equally pair of expensive dark-tinged glasses on his face.

Although he was obviously blind, the skinny young man walked with certain elegance towards the bar. The bartender returned, and he ordered something. With white cane in hand, he made his way across the room. John stared at the man, hoping for something recognizable, not speaking for fear of startling him.

The dark-haired man stopped by John's table, tapping it with the cane. Unfortunately, he came around the side John was sitting at and stumbled against John's long legs. "Wait!" John called out, too late.

The smaller man fell forward, but John reached out and grasped his forearms to hold him steady, the white cane clattering to the floor. "I'm… I'm terribly sorry about that! I didn't realize you were sitting there," he stammered at John.

John got up, still holding on to the black-haired man's arms, and helped him over to the other chair at the table. "It's not your fault." He then grabbed the white cane off of the floor and handed it back to him. "I should have said something earlier…" he apologized.

"My name is Laszlo Ferrari," the elegant young man offered his hand across the table, "and who might you be?"

John stared at the slender hand for a moment, contemplating the question. Who was he?

Act One:

Amy Jennings felt glum. David, Maggie and Roger had left the day before. Julia was gone as well. Chris and Sabrina did not seem to have time for her. Elizabeth did not either, and Carolyn had been sick in bed for days. Even Mrs. Johnson had seemed strange lately.

When Angelique had stopped by to visit Quentin that morning, Quentin had already left with Elizabeth to tour the cannery and go over his new job. Although seeming slightly disappointed, Angelique had asked Amy if she would like to spend the morning shopping with her. Not really feeling up to it, Amy begrudgingly said yes—she figured anything was better than moping around the house.

After shopping at Brewster's, Amy and Angelique brought their new clothes out to Angelique's car. Angelique had insisted upon buying Amy some new clothes—a hot pink and blue outfit, with matching stocking and shoes and even underwear with Amy's very first training bra! Angelique was a stranger to Amy, she was not sure how she felt about her yet, but she was slowly warming up to the vivacious blonde. But the young girl still felt sad that she was spending the day with a complete stranger because there was no one else around.

Angelique offered to buy them malteds at the Collinsport Diner. "Sure," Amy answered. They walked from Angelique's car to the diner, which was relatively empty, just beating the lunch crowd. "Thanks, Mrs. Rumson."

Angelique, who was following Amy into the diner, grimaced with disdain, her previously cheerful disposition ruined by images of Skye. "Please, Amy!" she put her hand on the young girl's shoulder, "Call me Angelique!"

Amy plopped down on a barstool and spun around. She was starting to feel better with her new clothes and promise of a malted. "Okay, Ann… juh… leek!" She stopped turning the stool and stared at the blonde woman. "Can I call you Angie instead? Ann… juh… leek sounds too formal!"

Angelique had a bemused smile. "Angie?" she asked quizzically. She had never been called Angie a day in her life, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to be!

"Yes, Angie! If we're to be friends, I would love it if we could be Amy and Angie!" pleaded Amy, hope shining in her eyes.

Angelique turned her head slightly away so that she could roll her eyes. She quickly turned back to Amy and flashed her brilliant smile. "Of course! Amy and Angie, what fun!" She stood at a table and placed her pocketbook upon it. Taking out her change purse, she removed two dimes and then handed it out to Amy. "Here, Amy, you order our malts while I try to get Quentin at the cannery. Maybe he can come meet us here in town."

"Okay!" Amy said. All traces of glumness had drifted away. She grabbed the coin purse from Angie and went back to the counter to order.

Angelique smiled and shook her head. She walked over to the phone booth in the corner of the diner and sat down inside after pulling the folding door shut. She put her dime in the slot and dialed the four numbers. "Quentin Collins, please," she spoke into the phone. "Tell him it's Angelique…"

Quentin, who was sitting in Roger's office at the cannery, stared at the papers on his desk as if they were artifacts from ancient China. He could make head nor tail of what any of it meant. Elizabeth had left him alone for a little while, and he was already feeling a panic attack coming on. "I need to go have a drink…" he spoke out loud. Just then, the phone rang. Quentin looked around nervously, waiting for someone else to come into the office. When no savior did, he picked up the phone tentatively. "Quentin Collins!"

"Quentin, I'm so glad I caught you!" Angelique's melodic voice rang clearly through the earpiece.

"Still here," Quentin said, suddenly feeling shy towards the woman he had known for seventy-three years. "What's up?"

"I'm here at the Collinsport Diner with Amy. We'd like to know if you'd like to have lunch with us," said Angelique.

Quentin looked at the mountain of paperwork that Roger had left him on the desk. "Make it the Blue Whale, and it's a deal!"

Act Two:

John took Laszlo's outstretched hand and grasped it firmly. Laszlo felt electric tingles travel up his arm and to his heart as he felt how warm and strong the other man's hand was. "And who might you be?" he repeated, nervously, as John grasped his hand tighter.

Flashes of a huge mansion flickered through John's mind. What did it mean? He let go of his hand and withdrew. "John…" he answered, looking down at the table. He didn't want to just say John Doe, for that was not his real name, and frankly, it sounded like a stupid name.

Laszlo smiled, he liked John's deep, but pleasant voice, but he seemed hesitant. Did he have a jealous wife back at home? "Okay, John. John What?" Laszlo leaned forward, "John Doe?"

"No…" John scowled. His eyes darted around the room, then fell to look at one of the beer bottle labels in front of him. Jaeger's Brau… It was better than nothing. "Jaeger… John Jaeger!" He grinned, with relief, knowing his drinking partner could not see his expression.

"Ah, John Yay…Gur…" Laszlo nodded his head. He felt in front of him to carefully pick up his newly-arrived mixed drink to bring the skinny little straw up to his lips. "German, no?"

"Uh, yeah!" John agreed quickly, reading the label on the fresh bottle of beer that had just appeared in front of him. Just like Laszlo's cocktail had appeared by his side, as if by magic. "Way back, though! I'm one hundred percent American… I think!"

Laszlo gulped and put his glass down on the table. "I'm first-generation American. My parents came over from Italy right before the war…"

"Italy? Wow!" John exclaimed. "You don't have an accent!" Instantly, John felt stupid. He was starting to realize he did not know this man.

"You really don't know who I am, do you?" Laszlo asked him. So far, he liked the sound of John's voice and the feel of his hands—he just wished he could feel what he looked like.

John grinned. "Of course, you just told me your name—Laszlo Ferrari!" He took another swig of beer.

Laszlo shook his head. "I guess I'm not as famous a pianist as I'd hoped," he said, with mock dismay. "Although I suppose you wouldn't be the type of guy to listen to piano music, anyway."

"I'm not sure what kind of guy I am," John said. He sighed. "I was hoping to find some answers here."

"You could say the same about me," Laszlo admitted. "Peace of mind was my first thought, but leaving New York to figure out where I was going with my life has become my goal at the moment."

"Oh, you're not from Collinsport?" John asked. Of course, he couldn't be expected to run into someone he knew right away.

"No," answered Laszlo. "What about you?" Are you married? he wanted to ask…

John shook his head, even though he knew it couldn't be seen. "I'm not sure."

Knew it! There must be a jealous wife! "Mystery man, huh?" Laszlo reached for his drink and brought it up to his lips.

"Something like that," said John, "A mystery to myself!" He looked around the room and saw that more people were coming in.

Laszlo was intrigued. "How is that possible... A mystery to yourself?"

"I don't remember anything about my whole life," John told him. "I wish someone would remember me."

Angelique walked into the Blue Whale, with Amy beside her, and stopped and stared across the room at the two young men seated at the table. It was the tall one with the curly blond hair and cut up face that caught her eye.

Amy turned and looked over to where Angelique was staring…

Act Three:

Angelique stared over at John. "Angie?" Amy tugged at Angelique's sleeve. "Is that Jeb over there?"

Angelique shook her head and looked down at Amy. "Of course it isn't Jeb. Remember Elizabeth told you he had to leave Carolyn?"

"But he looks just like him. Maybe he decided to come back?" Amy looked over, but quickly averted her eyes when she noticed the blond man staring back at her.

"Let's go have some sodas while we wait for Quentin," Angelique said firmly. She put a hand on Amy's shoulder and turned her back to the bar where they pulled out the barstools and sat down.

Laszlo noticed the lull in the conversation, and wondered what John was thinking. "How did you end up in Collinsport, if you don't mind me asking?" he prodded.

John turned back to the dark-haired young man, wondering what it was about the blonde lady with the little girl. "I woke up in a hospital up north, yesterday. A doctor there mentioned Collinsport, and something just clicked for me. I don't remember coming here before, though. How about you? What made you leave New York?"

Laszlo stirred his drink with the little straw. "Well," he began, "let's just say I had a relationship end awhile back… I ended up so depressed I stopped writing music. I just can't find any inspiration anymore."

John was positive by Laszlo's general demeanor that it must have been a relationship with a man, but he didn't want to make a big deal out of it. It didn't really matter to him, anyway. "I wish I could remember a relationship… any relationship." He looked over to the bar where the blonde woman sat, and caught her staring at him. She quickly looked away.

Amy saw Angelique turn around and looked back at John. "Are you sure he isn't Jeb?"

"I'm sure, Amy," Angelique answered. "Let's drink our Shirley Temples!"

Just then, Quentin came through the front door of the Blue Whale, and smiled when he saw Angelique and Amy sitting at the bar. He looked around the room as he made his way to the bar, but stopped and glared over at John and Laszlo. Angelique saw him and called over to him. "Quentin!"

He strode up to the bar. "Angelique, did you know he was here?" he demanded.

Angelique glanced over at John. "Oh, no, Quentin! That's just some random stranger! He just looks like Jeb Hawkes!"

"I told you he looked like Jeb!" Amy piped up.

Quentin glanced over at her, clenching his fists. "Amy, I want you to go wait out in the car." Amy started to protest, but Quentin was firm. "Angelique, take Amy back to your car and wait for me."

Angelique got up and nodded at Amy, taking her by the hand to walk outside. They both glanced over at Quentin, but he stood stonily by the bar, impatiently waiting for them to leave before he made a move.

As soon as they were gone, Quentin strode over to where John sat. John saw him coming—he had seen the strange interaction with the woman and girl—and tensed up, waiting for him. This is it… Maybe now I'll find some answers…

"What're you doing here?" Quentin demanded. "I thought you were supposed to be dead!"

John shook his head incredulously. "Dead? I appear to be alive," he said, thumbs pointing at his own chest. "Just who am I supposed to be who's dead?"

Quentin shook his head with disgust. "Don't play games with me, Jeb Hawkes! Look at you, it's obvious you fell from Widows' Hill!"

"There's that name again, Jeb Hawkes!" John said indignantly. "I am not this Jeb Hawkes!"

Laszlo leaned forward. "John, who is this person?"

Quentin looked over at the blind man. "I'm Quentin Collins, and believe me, this John as you call him, is the most evil man to walk the face of the Earth! Jebez Hawkes!"

John stood up quickly, his chair falling back with his forcefulness. "Look buddy, I don't know you, I don't know Jebez Hawkes, and if you don't leave me and my friend alone, I'll throw you out on your tail!"

Quentin faced him almost nose-to-nose. "I'd like to see you try! After everything you've done to my family, you're the one who's going to be out on his tail!"

Fed-up, John grabbed Quentin by the lapels of his jacket and shoved him away from him. Regaining his balance, Quentin lunged forward and wrapped his hands around John's throat to choke the life out of him, while John grabbed Quentin in a bearhug.

While they were struggling, Laszlo tried to get out of the way, standing up from his chair and backing away from the table. John drew his head back and banged it against Quentin's skull as hard as he could. Quentin saw stars as he fell back from John's grasp and tumbled backwards against Laszlo, who fell to the floor, his white cane clattering beside him. The music from the jukebox seemingly came to an abrupt end, as the world faded away…


Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER


Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY

Laszlo Ferrari… MICHAEL STROKA


Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
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Episode 987: At The Old House

Tue. Apr. 7, 1970

Many things have changed in the few days since Barnabas Collins has been chained inside his coffin at the Old House. A young man has appeared in Collinsport, one who's familiar face shocks those who reside on the Great Estate of Collinwood… Quentin Collins, believing this man to be Jeb Hawkes, confronts him at the Blue Whale...

"What're you doing here?" Quentin demanded. "I thought you were supposed to be dead!"

John shook his head incredulously. "Dead? I appear to be alive," he said, thumbs pointing at his own chest. "Just who am I supposed to be who's dead?"

Quentin shook his head with disgust. "Don't play games with me, Jeb Hawkes! Look at you, it's obvious you fell from Widows' Hill."

"There's that name again, Jeb Hawkes!" John said indignantly. "I am not this Jeb Hawkes!"

Laszlo leaned forward. "John, who is this person?"

Quentin looked over at the blind man. "I'm Quentin Collins, and believe me, this John as you call him, is the most evil man to walk the face of the Earth! Jeb Hawkes!"

John stood up quickly, his chair falling back with his forcefulness. "Look buddy, I don't know you, I don't know Jebez Hawkes, and if you don't leave me and my friend alone, I'll throw you out on your tail!"

Quentin faced him almost nose-to-nose. "I'd like to see you try! After everything you've done to my family, you're the one who's going to be out on his tail!"

Fed-up, John grabbed Quentin by the lapels of his jacket and shoved him away from him. Regaining his balance, Quentin lunged forward and wrapped his hands around John's throat to choke the life out of him, while John grabbed Quentin in a bearhug.

While they were struggling, Laszlo tried to get out of the way, standing up from his chair and backing away from the table. John drew his head back and banged it against Quentin's skull as hard as he could. Quentin saw stars as he fell back from John's grasp and tumbled backwards against Laszlo, who fell to the floor, his white cane clattering beside him.

"Quentin!" Angelique screamed. She had just sent Amy to wait in the car while she went back inside. She stooped down next to Laszlo and helped him sit up.

Quentin held his dazed head and looked confusedly over to where Laszlo was sprawled on the ground. John ignored his own re-opened head wound and knelt on Laszlo's other side. "Are you all right, buddy?" John asked him.

Laszlo heard John's voice and clung to his arm, feeling safe with him next to him. He also smelled Angelique perfume on his other side. "I'm all right." He felt the back of his head. "Ouch. I think that's going to be a bump."

"You'll be all right," Angelique told him kindly. "Help me get him to his feet." Angelique and John grasped under Laszlo's shoulders and pulled the skinny young man up to a chair.

Quentin saw Laszlo's cane lying on the floor where it had clattered and picked it up. Angelique turned away from Laszlo and flashed Quentin an angry look. "Look what you've done, Quentin!" She snatched the cane out of Quentin's hand and placed Laszlo's hand on it.

"What I've done?" Quentin was incredulous. "I try to protect everyone from Jeb Hawkes, and this is the thanks I get?"

"This isn't Jeb, Quentin!" Angelique admonished. "Jeb Hawkes is dead! This man has obviously been in some sort of accident, and you picked a fight with him."

John watched Angelique, and was both stunned that she stood up for him, and glad that he didn't have to reiterate that he wasn't Hawkes.

Quentin stared at Angelique, then at John, and back to Angelique again. "Angelique, how can you be sure? No body was found, and he looks JUST LIKE HIM."

Angelique took Quentin by the arm and pulled him a few steps away from John and Laszlo. "Quentin, I of all people would be able to tell if this man was really Jeb," she said quietly. She glanced back over at Jeb. "Believe me when I say this… This man is not Jeb Hawkes!"

Quentin shook his head with bewilderment. He turned and stared at John. "Not… Jeb… Hawkes?"

John stood up from beside Laszlo. "Thank you, ma'am. I'm glad you believe me." He looked at Quentin stonily. "I'm telling the truth. My name is John Jaeger, and I've never seen you before."

Angelique started to pull Quentin away and called back to Jeb. "We're very sorry… " They headed out the front door, and Angelique turned and looked at John one more time.

"Wow," Laszlo said. "I wonder what this Jeb Hawkes did to those people?"

John touched his bandaged head where the wound was starting to bleed again after being reopened. "I don't know… and I'm sure I don't want to know…"

Act One:

Sabrina Stuart walked through the evening woods to the Old House. She had let Chris finally take her home to her apartment earlier that day, but after sunset, she found herself being drawn back to the Old House… Back to Barnabas. It was a compulsion for her. She could hear the drumbeat of Barnabas' heart calling to her. She had taken a taxi down to the from gates of Collinwood, pretending to go visit Carolyn if she was caught by anyone. No one saw her, so she made her way down the oft-used path to the Old House, following Barnabas' heartbeat.

She did not expect to find anyone there. Chris had told her—lied to her—that Barnabas had gone back to England, but she knew better. She also knew that Julia Hoffman had gone back to Windcliff. With this in mind, she was surprised to see candles flickering in some of the windows. Was Willie Loomis still there? She slowly crept up the old steps from the walkway and peered from behind a pillar into the drawing room window.

There was no one in the drawing room of the Old House, so Sabrina slunk across the porch and very carefully tried the front door. Finding it unlocked, she slowly turned the handle and peered inside. Seeing no one there, she tiptoed inside and shut the door behind her. Once indoors, she could hear the heartbeat more clearly. "Barnabas?" she called out timidly. No response… "Barnabas?" she called out again, a little louder this time.

Sabrina stepped into the drawing room and looked around. The candelabrum was fully lit and a fire burned in the fireplace, so obviously someone was living here. Where was Barnabas, and why was he summoning her? The heartbeat was deafening in her ears by this point, and she felt herself drawn to the bookcase next to the fireplace. She felt compelled to touch one of the books on the shelf, and reached out with one slender hand…

"Sabrina!" Angelique exclaimed from behind her. "What are you doing here?"

Sabrina pulled her hand away from the book and gasped. The heartbeat stopped. She turned and looked at Angelique. "Who are you?" she asked, shocked. "How do you know my name?"

"I'm Angelique, and you were the girl who was visiting Barnabas a couple of weeks ago." Angelique stared at the brown-haired girl, then looked suspiciously at the bookcase behind her.

"You… you knew about that?" Sabrina stammered. She looked back at the bookcase, but the heartbeat did not return.

"I've been staying here for the last few weeks," Angelique told her. "Barnabas left me in charge while he went to England."

Sabrina folded her arms across her chest. "Did he go to England?" she asked, now suspicious of the blonde woman.

Angelique smiled. "Of course he did!" She reached over and patted Sabrina on the cheek condescendingly. "But you and I know the real truth, don't we?"

Sabrina touched her cheek where Angelique had patted it. "The real truth?" She turned and walked over to the fireplace.

Angelique nodded. "Yes, the real truth!" She walked up behind Sabrina and placed a hand on the young woman's shoulder. "See the fire, Sabrina?"

"Yes," Sabrina nodded, as if in a trance.

"Think of Barnabas as the fire and you as the moth, Sabrina. You will be drawn to Barnabas, like a moth to a fire, but he will KILL you!"

"No!" Sabrina said, without moving her head. "Barnabas wouldn't kill me!"

"Yes!" Angelique said excitedly. "You will be drawn to Barnabas, and Barnabas will destroy you! Unless…"

"Unless…" Sabrina whispered fearfully.

"You must stay away Sabrina! Stay away from the Old House and you will be safe!" Angelique hissed in her ear. "Come back to the Old House, and Barnabas will return! He will return and he will DESTROY you!" Angelique sounded gleeful.

A tear fell down Sabrina's cheek. "No! No, Barnabas will not destroy me…"

"Yes! Now turn back to the bookcase and touch the same book you were about to touch before," Angelique commanded. "Open the secret panel Sabrina, and let Barnabas kill you once and for all!"

Sabrina reached for the book again, but the fear was too great. "No!" She turned to Angelique with a wild look in her eyes. "No! I won't do it!" she screamed. She turned and ran out the front door.

Angelique smiled as she watched her go. She shut the front door and went back to the bookcase. She opened the secret panel and stepped inside the dark room where Barnabas' coffin lay, with chains around it.

Angelique placed a hand on the coffin. "It was an admirable effort, Barnabas!" she scolded. "But you will never leave this coffin until I say you do!" Angelique looked up with a gleeful expression on her face…

Act Two:

The next morning, John and Laszlo walked up the path from the front gate of Collinwood, Laszlo carrying a small bag while holding his white cane in his other hand in front of him while he tapped the ground in front of him. John carried the two larger suitcases for him. At Laszlo's insistence, John had spent the night at the Collinsport Inn on Laszlo's couch after Laszlo heard that John had no where to go. The couch was not very comfortable, to say the least, and John had a stiff neck and back from sleeping on it.

But, as they made their way up the path, the huge mansion loomed before John like a great monster ready to devour him. He felt his heart start to throb in his chest, and an overwhelming sense of dread overcame him. He guided Laszlo to the front doors, but he could no longer contain his fear. Laszlo sensed this and spoke to him. "What's wrong, John?"

John set Laszlo's suitcases down at the front doors and started to back away. He looked back and forth in apprehension. "I'm… I'm sorry! I can't go in with you!"

"Can't go in? What's the matter with you?" Laszlo asked confusedly. He turned to face Jeb and wished that he could see his face just this once.

"I've got to go!" Jeb exclaimed. "I'll catch up with you later!" he called over his shoulder as he started to run off into the woods. He found a well-worn path and began to follow it, running as far away from the monstrous house as he could possibly manage…

At the Old House, Angelique sat on the sofa in the drawing room. She was making sketches on a sketch pad, when she suddenly felt a presence. Looking quickly at the bookcase, she realized it was not coming from the secret room. She put the sketchpad and pencils down on the sofa and stood up. The presence was outside. She turned and stepped towards the window…

John ran down the path, the birds and creatures of the forest unaware and uncaring of his mortal plight. The sweat was pouring down him, more from the anxiety he felt than from the running. He slowed down when he saw the Old House, but this time he was more curious than apprehensive…

Angelique went to the front door and opened it. She had seen a man coming down the path, but she was not sure who it was at first. As he walked closer, she could see that it was John. "Hello there!" she called down to him. He saw her standing in the doorway and started up the steps.

"You, again!" John called up to her as he made his way up the steps in quick bounds with his long legs. "The lady from the Blue Whale!" He really hadn't had time to notice the blonde woman before, but now he could see how lovely she looked with her soft pink dress and tan-and-pink scarf around her neck. "Do you live in this place?"

"I do!" she smiled pleasantly. She noticed how sweaty and out-of-breath he seemed. "You look like you could use a cold drink. Why don't you come in and have some lemonade?" Angelique held the door open and he accepted her invitation.

Once inside, John looked around the foyer and up the stairs. "Wow, this place looks really old." He turned and faced her as she closed the front door. "Are you sure you live in this place?" He swore he saw cobwebs.

"I inherited it," Angelique told him. "From a dear friend…" She motioned to the drawing room. "Please, make yourself at home while I go and get the lemonade." The pretty witch walked back to the kitchen.

John stepped into the drawing room, saw Angelique's sketch pad, and sat down next to it, being very careful not to lean back and get sweat on her antique sofa. He picked up the sketch pad and flipped through it. Suddenly, he looked up from the sketch pad, and around the room. He could swear he felt another presence in the room. Where it was, he could not be sure.

Angelique came back carrying a tray with a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses. There was also a small plate with some powdered cookies on the tray. "I thought maybe you'd like a snack as well," she told him, as she set the tray down on a small table.

John got up and glanced over at the bookcase with a quizzical look on his face. "Do you live alone?" he asked.

Angelique turned to look at him with surprise on her face. She filled up a glass from the pitcher and handed it to him. "Yes, of course I live alone. Why do you ask?"

John took the glass and sat back down after taking a big sip. "I could have sworn I heard someone else… Well, maybe it was just a feeling."

Angelique handed him the small plate of cookies and took her own seat next to the fireplace. "Do you get those kinds of feeling often, Mister…?"

"I have no idea. And the name's Jaeger, John Jaeger." He took a bite out of a cookie.

"And my name is Angelique… Rumson," Angelique tried to smile at the sound of her last time. She was going to have to go by a different last name soon.

"Nice to meet you, Angelique Rumson," John smiled. He wondered to himself who this strange, pretty lady was and why was she so welcoming? But, those questions could wait, he supposed…

Act Three:

Sabrina stepped through the front door of the Collinsport University Library, ready to return to work and try to forget the events of the last few weeks. Mr. Horace Gladstone, the head librarian, looked up from going through book cards. He was a balding middle-aged man with a bow tie. "You're late," he told her dourly. "Wasn't two weeks enough time off?"

"I, I'm sorry, Mr. Gladstone" Sabrina stammered. "I thought I left with plenty of time to spare."

"You were supposed to be here at eight, not nine," he snapped. "I wanted you to go through these book returns."

"I can get started on that right away," Sabrina said quickly. "Just let me put away my coat."

"Never mind, I'm almost done!" Mr. Gladstone snapped. "When you get done hanging up your coat, take these books and re-shelf them!" he motioned towards the book cart with a dismissive hand.

"Yes, sir," Sabrina sighed. So much for returning to work with a clean slate. She quickly took off her coat and gloves and hung her purse up. She took the return books cart and started on her way. Horace Gladstone stared at her as she pushed the cart away, a strange expression on his face, as though he was unsure about something.

Sabrina had almost finished putting the books away—and finding quite a number that were in the wrong place, when suddenly she felt two large hands appear in front of her eyes. "Guess who?" a low, masculine voice said from behind her. She almost jumped.

Sabrina smiled. "Chris!" she exclaimed. She quickly turned, but frowned when she saw Quentin's handsome face instead. "Oh…"

Quentin grimaced. "Oh! Oh? Well that certainly strikes a blow to my fragile ego!" he said with mock sternness. He put his hands into the pockets of his brown suit jacket.

"Sorry, Quentin, it's just been one of those weeks," Sabrina sighed. She picked up another book to shelve.

"How are you feeling now, Sabrina," Quentin asked her.

"Why do you care?" Sabrina asked, not looking at him, pretending to give the book her full concentration.

"Are you angry at me for some reason, Sabrina?" Quentin asked, stepping to stand more beside her.

"Of course not!" Sabrina almost snapped. She found the book's proper home and reached for another one. "Did Chris send you here to check up on me?"

Quentin shook his head. "Of course not. Chris doesn't even know I'm here. I just thought I'd take a break from the cannery and check out a book."

"A book?" Sabrina asked, glancing at him while she scanned the shelves for the book's place.

"Yes, I was hoping maybe the library had a business section." Quentin hoped that she believed him.

Sabrina paused before grabbing the last book on the cart. "That's why you came here? You really weren't checking up on me?"

"I promise," Quentin smiled. "I'm helping run the Collins Cannery right now, and I just needed some extra help."

Just then, Mr. Gladstone poked his head around the corner. "Miss Stuart!" he exclaimed, "We do not pay you to stand around and flirt!"

"Mr. Collins was just looking for the business section, Mr. Gladstone!" Sabrina exclaimed back. She and Quentin share a smile, but as he stared at them thoughtfully, the look on Horace Gladstone's face was strange indeed…


Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER

Sabrina Stuart… LISA RICHARDS

Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY


Laszlo Ferrari… MICHAEL STROKA

Horace Gladstone… JOHN HARKINS

Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
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Episode 988: The New Handyman

Wed. Apr. 8, 1970

Chained inside his coffin at the Old House, Barnabas Collins is unaware of the intrigue that swirls around him… Angelique has taken over in his absence, and amnesiac John Jaeger is now caught in her web… Meanwhile, at the Collinsport University Library, Sabrina Stuart and Quentin Collins are being watched by the strange librarian Horace Gladstone...

Sabrina had almost finished putting the books away—and finding quite a number that were in the wrong place, when suddenly she felt two large hands appear in front of her eyes. "Guess who?" a low, masculine voice said from behind her. She almost jumped.

Sabrina smiled. "Chris!" she exclaimed. She quickly turned, but frowned when she saw Quentin's handsome face instead. "Oh…"

Quentin grimaced. "Oh! Oh? Well that certainly strikes a blow to my fragile ego!" he said with mock sternness. He put his hands into the pockets of his blue suit jacket.

"Sorry, Quentin, it's just been one of those weeks," Sabrina sighed. She picked up another book to shelve.

"How are you feeling now, Sabrina," Quentin asked her.

"Why do you care?" Sabrina asked, not looking at him, pretending to give the book her fullest concentration.

"Are you angry at me for some reason, Sabrina?" Quentin asked, stepping to stand more beside her.

"Of course not!" Sabrina almost snapped. She found the book's proper home and reached for another one. "Did Chris send you here to check up on me?"

Quentin shook his head. "Of course not. Chris doesn't even know I'm here. I just thought I'd take a break from the cannery and check out a book."

"A book?" Sabrina asked, glancing at him while she scanned the shelves for the book's place.

"Yes, I was hoping maybe the library had a business section." Quentin hoped that she believed him.

Sabrina paused before grabbing the last book on the cart. "That's why you came here? You really weren't checking up on me?"

"I promise," Quentin smiled. "I'm helping run the Collins Cannery right now, and I just needed some extra help."

Just then, Mr. Gladstone poked his head around the corner. "Miss Stuart!" he exclaimed, "We do not pay you to stand around and flirt!"

"Mr. Collins was just looking for the business section, Mr. Gladstone!" Sabrina exclaimed back. She and Quentin share a smile, but as he stared at them thoughtfully, the look on Horace Gladstone's face was strange indeed.

Sabrina brought Quentin to the business section. As he looked through the books, he glanced at Sabrina. "How are things going between you and Chris?" he asked.

"Chris has been very attentive," Sabrina told him. "I feel as though we are finally getting back to the way we were five years ago."

"I'm glad for you," Quentin smiled at her. They selected a couple of books for Quentin and brought them to the front desk.

Mr. Gladstone watched from his desk as the two said good-bye to each other. He brought up an old book from the stack in front of him. Opening the volume, Local Portraits of Collinsport, he leafed through the book for a few seconds until he reached a certain page. He looked up at the seemingly young man who was bidding good-bye to Sabrina, then stared at the portrait on the page in the book. It was The Portrait of Quentin Collins, by Charles Delaware Tate…

Act One:

Angelique came back carrying a tray with a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses. There was also a small plate with some powdered cookies on the tray. "I thought maybe you'd like a snack as well," she told him, as she set the tray down on a small table.

John got up and glanced over at the bookcase with a quizzical look on his face. "Do you live alone?" he asked.

Angelique turned to look at him with surprise on her face. She filled up a glass from the pitcher and handed it to him. "Yes, of course I live alone. Why do you ask?"

John took the glass and sat back down after taking a big sip. "I could have sworn I heard someone else… Well, maybe it was just a feeling."

Angelique handed him the small plate of cookies and took her own seat next to the fireplace. "Do you get those kinds of feeling often, Mister…?"

"I have no idea. And the name's Jaeger, John Jaeger." He took a bite out of a cookie.

"And my name is Angelique… Rumson," Angelique tried to smile at the speech of her last time. She was going to have to go by a different last name soon.

"Nice to meet you, Angelique Rumson," John smiled. He wondered to himself who this strange, pretty lady was and why was she so welcoming? But, those questions could wait, he supposed.

"What brings you to Collinwood, Mr. Jaeger?" Angelique asked.

"I came here with a friend, Laszlo Ferrari. He's a houseguest at the big house. You remember, he was at the Blue Whale yesterday," John told her.

"Oh yes, I remember," Angelique murmured. "I heard he was going to be staying there. I'll have to go visit him at some point." Angelique looked thoughtfully at him with her big blue eyes. "Have you known Mr. Ferrari long?"

John shook his head. "We just met at the Blue Whale yesterday. I stayed in his room at the Collinsport Inn last night. He offered to let me stay there while he lives at Collinwood, but I don't feel comfortable doing that."

Angelique raised her eyebrows. "Oh, do you not have a home in Collinsport?"

"I don't know where or if I have a home. You see, I have amnesia, Mrs. Rumson," John explained.

"Please, call me Angelique," she grimaced. She thought for a moment. "Amnesia you say?" She got up from her seat and looked at the fireplace. She glanced at the bookcase, then turned and stared at him. "Do you think you'll find answers here?"

"I hope so," John told her. "But until then, I don't know what I'll do with myself. I can't keep sleeping on a couch in the Collinsport Inn.

Angelique ran her hand across the front of the bookshelf that held the secret lever. "I've been thinking of renovating this place. It needs electricity wired throughout the house, plumbing, a fresh coat of paint… Too many things to take care of all by myself." She turned and walked over to where John was sitting. She put a hand on his shoulder. "I need a handyman. Someone who can bring this house up to my standards."

John looked up at her and grinned. "A handyman? Electricity, plumbing, painting… I don't think I can do all those things by myself. I don't even know if I have any experience…"

"Oh, I didn't mean for you to do all those things all by yourself," Angelique smiled brightly. "I was thinking you could work with a contractor and directly oversee things while… I attend to other duties during the day."

John pursed his lips and smiled. "I don't know, Mrs… Angelique, it seems like a lot of work, and I don't know if I'm any good."

"I'll pay you fifty dollars a week, plus free room and board." She touched his shoulder again, and he felt an electric tingle moving down his torso. "Please, John, I really do need your help."

John felt himself melt under her gaze. "All right, I guess I have no where else to go at the moment." He stuck out his hand and she grasped it with her small white one. "It's a deal…"

"Good," she smiled. She looked over at the bookcase that hid Barnabas' prison. "I can't wait to get started…"

Act Two:

Laszlo Ferrari sat in front of the fireplace in the drawing room at Collinwood, feeling the heat from the flames on his body. He had met with Elizabeth Stoddard and her daughter Carolyn and found them charming, although the younger woman had seemed sad to him. The fire reflected on his dark glasses as he now thought of John, and where he might have gone when he ran off earlier.

Just then, the sound of the front doors opening and closing startled him from his reverie, and he listened to the footsteps of a man echo from the foyer. He turned towards the drawing room doorway and heard a voice: "Hello there!" The voice sounded pleasant enough.

"Hello," Laszlo answered, facing the direction of the other man. He heard the footsteps come closer, and he sensed that he had stopped before him. "You must be Roger Collins," Laszlo said.

The man chuckled, "No, not Roger… I'm the younger cousin, Quentin Collins!"

"Quentin," Laszlo murmured, "Quentin…" Elizabeth had mentioned Quentin, of course, telling him that Quentin would be in charge while she was gone with Carolyn, but Laszlo suddenly thought of the altercation the day before… "I remember now!" He turned his head up towards the presence. "You attacked my friend yesterday! You're not going to hit me, are you?"

Quentin Collins chuckled again. "I never hit a guy with glasses." Laszlo could hear Quentin step away towards the other side of the room. "If I were you, I'd find better friends!" Quentin's voice said from across the room.

Laszlo could hear the stopper of a decanter removed and glasses moving around. "What do you have against John?"

"Nothing," Quentin answered. "He just reminded me of a man I hate… hated." Laszlo could hear pouring noises. "Do you want some brandy."

"Sure," Laszlo answered. "As long as you promise not to splash it on me, or maybe knock me over again."

Laszlo heard Quentin give a little awkward laugh again and then the sounds of his footsteps coming towards him. "The glass is right in front of you," Quentin said, but not unkindly.

Laszlo reached out to feel for the glass. His fingers briefly touched Quentin's, and he briefly felt a little guilty, moving his fingers away quickly as he grasped the glass of brandy. "Thank you," he said politely.

"No problem," Quentin answered. Laszlo could hear the soft sounds of cushions being moved on a soft surface, then he felt the sofa shift beside him. "Did you see… I mean, meet Carolyn or Elizabeth yet?"

Laszlo took a sip of brandy and nodded as it coated his throat. "Yes, they seemed very nice. It's a shame they'll be gone during my stay."

"Do you intend to stay long?" Quentin asked. "I mean, I've been to New York. I can't imagine Collinsport would hold much excitement for a guy like you."

"That's exactly why I decided to stay here," Laszlo explained. "I needed to get away from the city for awhile. Clear my head… You don't realize who your real friends are until it's too late."

"Yes, I have had some experience in that department," Quentin's voice sounded wistful. This surprised Laszlo, considering the way Mr. Quentin Collins had behaved the day before.

"I haven't felt much like performing lately," Laszlo went on. "Playing the piano, night after night, to packed concert halls… All the enjoyment has gone out of it lately. All those fans—and no one loves you just for yourself, just the picture they see on the album cover…"

"It sounds like a broken heart to me," Quentin told him. "Don't worry, everything will work out in the end." Laszlo felt a strong hand on his shoulder, and slightly flinched, beside himself. He felt foolishly like he was somehow being disloyal to John...

Act Three:

Angelique drove John back to the Collinsport Inn to check out. While going to an appointment with Madame du Noir, the interior decorator, she sent John to the Collinsport University Library to pick up some books she had put on hold.

As John stepped up the steps of the library, he wondered how Laszlo was getting on at the big house. His short life so far was shaping up to be an interesting one.

Sabrina looked up from her desk as she saw John come into the library. "Good afternoon!" she called over to him, as she closed the hardcover book and set her pen down on her notepad. She walked over to the counter. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here to pick up some books for Mrs. Angelique Rumson?" John said, as he walked up to the counter. He looked around at the library. He saw a middle-aged man putting away books on the other side of the room.

"Angelique Rumson?" Sabrina said, surprised.

"Yes, I work for her," John said. How strange to say that, he thought. He wondered where he had worked before his amnesia.

"I see," Sabrina replied. "Do you have any identification, mister…"

"John Jaeger… No, I'm sorry, but I don't," John told her. He looked past her and noticed the hardcover book she had closed when he had walked in, Legends of the Werewolf in Europe.

"No I.D.?" she asked. "I can't just hand over books without a library card…"

"Oh! I have a note of permission from Mrs. Rumson," John replied, fishing around in his pocket. He handed the note to her and Sabrina took it.

As she went to go get Angelique's books, John thought he heard a wolf or some kind of dog growling. He turned and looked with surprise. Across the room, Horace Gladstone stared at John with narrowed eyes, watching him with interest.

Sabrina walked over with a stack of books and set them in front of John. "I just need you to sign that you received these…"

As John signed the slip, he heard the growling again, closer, this time. It was most definitely a wolf! He was sure of it. He glanced around nervously, then turned back to signing.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Jaeger?" Sabrina asked him.

"Did you hear that?" he asked incredulously. "I swear it sounds like there's a wolf in here!"

Sabrina turned pale. "A wolf?! No-no, I don't think so." She reached over to take the slip and pen from John's hand.

As she did so, John's hand touched hers. Just then, he heard the growling again, but a woman's scream occurred at the same time. John gasped. "I heard it again! A wolf growled and a woman screamed! Didn't you heart that?"

Sabrina trembled. "No, I did not! Mr. Jaeger, you're making me uncomfortable!" Her voice was shaky.

Just then, Mr. Gladstone walked over. "Is everything all right here, Miss Stuart?" he hissed. He raised his eyebrow and turned to John with a questioning look.

"Everything is fine, here, Mr. Gladstone," Sabrina answered, looking down at the counter.

"She right, nothing's the matter. I was just leaving," John told him. He picked up the books and started towards the door. He must have just been hearing things. Maybe his head was more messed up than he thought. Maybe he should have stayed at Windcliff…

John turned and looked back. Both Sabrina and Horace were staring at him. He gave a nervous little smile, and walked out the door…


Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER

Sabrina Stuart… LISA RICHARDS

Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY


Laszlo Ferrari… MICHAEL STROKA

Horace Gladstone… JOHN HARKINS

Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
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Episode 989: Bon Voyage

Thu. Apr. 9, 1970

A fateful day at Collinwood, for Elizabeth Stoddard and her daughter, Carolyn, are leaving the Great House… Elizabeth hopes that a trip to Europe will in some small way help her daughter to get over her husband Jeb's recent death… Little do Carolyn and Elizabeth know that a stranger, now living at the Old House, is the spitting image of Carolyn's late husband…

Carolyn Hawkes stepped down the stairs into the foyer of Collinwood, carrying two suitcases that Mrs. Johnson had helped her pack for her trip. Carolyn stared forward like a somnambulist, having faced both her father's death two months ago, and now, Jeb's. As she set her suitcases down under the table in the foyer, Carolyn heard the doorbell ring at the front door. "I'll get it!" she called, hearing her mother on the phone in the Drawing Room.

Carolyn opened the front doors and found Willie Loomis standing there, with a smile on his face. "Carolyn!" he greeted. "It sure is nice to see you!"

Carolyn's face remained expressionless. "Good morning, Willie, please come in." She turned and walked away from the entryway.

Willie shut the front doors behind him and turned back to the young blonde. "Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?" he prompted.

"Why are you here, Willie?" she asked flatly. She stared at the Drawing Room doors and listened for her mother.

"Julia wanted me to get the rest of her things up in her room," Willie answered. "She didn't have time to come get them herself. I told her I didn't mind. Anything to help out an old friend…"

"That's nice," Carolyn said. It was as if she didn't hear a word Willie said. Willie looked uncomfortable.

The Drawing Room doors opened. Elizabeth glanced at Carolyn, noticed the suitcases, then looked over at Willie standing there looking sheepish, with his hands in his jeans pockets. "Good morning, Willie, what brings you here?"

"Julia asked me to come get the rest of her things," he replied. He looked worriedly at Carolyn, who stood emotionless beside him.

"I see," Elizabeth nodded. "All ready for our trip, dear?" she asked her daughter.

"Yes, Mother," Carolyn answered. "Shall we go?"

"Not just yet. The taxi will be here in half an hour," Elizabeth explained. "Why don't you come into the Drawing Room and have some tea while we wait?"

"All right, Mother," Carolyn answered flatly. She slowly walked into the Drawing Room and sat on the sofa.

Elizabeth shook her head with concern as she watched her daughter. She turned to Willie, who had put one hand on the staircase handrail to go upstairs to Julia's room. "Wait a minute, Willie. I just want to talk a little bit before you go up."

"Sure, Mrs. Stoddard," Willie answered nervously. He wondered what it was she had to say to him.

"I just wanted to ask you if you spoke to Barnabas before he left. Did he express any unhappiness to you?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.

"Unhappiness?" Willie asked. He raised a hand to his scarf-covered neck, remembering Barnabas' attack before he and Julia had forced him back into his coffin.

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded. "It's so strange to me that he would leave so suddenly, without any indication to anyone what his plans were. I've read his note a dozen times, and it just doesn't sound like Barnabas. I know there must be more to it!"

Willie glanced over at Barnabas' portrait on the wall, unsure of what to say…

Act One:

Angelique Rumson came down the staircase at the Old House. "What are your thoughts, Mr. Paxton?" she asked behind her. "Do you want the job?" She was followed by a thin, dark-haired, middle-aged man.

Frank Paxton looked around the Old House foyer and whistled. "Wow, it looks like a museum in here!" He stepped off of the staircase.

Angelique smiled at him as she crossed over to the drawing room. "Yes, I know. As I told you over the phone, I recently inherited this place. The former owner was opposed to updating it, but fortunately for you, I have no such qualms."

"There's never been any electricity installed, ever?" Mr. Paxton asked, incredulously. He followed Angelique into the drawing room.

"Never," Angelique answered. "Everything has been kept the same for hundreds of years."

Frank Paxton stood before her, his arms crossed as he shook his head in amazement. "Well, I could certainly use the work, Mrs. Rumson, but I have to tell you, wiring this entire house is going to cost you!"

"I don't care about that," Angelique told him. "Money is of no importance to me. I want this house updated as quickly and efficiently as possible." She saw John come in, sandwich in hand. She saw that he was wearing some hand-me-downs from Willie. Everything was a size too small. "John," she greeted. "This is Frank Paxton, the electrician. Frank, this is John Jaeger."

"How do you do?" John grinned. He shook Frank's hand.

"John will be overseeing the day-to-day work being done," Angelique told Frank. "If you have any questions, he's the one to ask." She looked sideways at the secret room. "I will be far too busy with other matters while the work on the house is being done. I only want to know when it's finished."

"Of course, Mrs. Rumson," Frank nodded. He raised his eyebrows a little at Angelique and John's living arrangement, but he made a mental note to ask John about it later.

John looked at Angelique. "I'm really not sure how much I know about this kind of thing," he told her.

"Don't worry about it, John," she smiled up at him. "I'm sure you know far more than I do about handiwork, and besides, I only want you to supervise and help the workmen if needed."

"If you say so, Angelique," John sighed.

"Well," Frank said, "I need to go back to the office and make some estimates." He patted the Old House blueprints against the palm of his hand. "How will I reach you when I've finished?" he asked Angelique.

"I'll be at Collinwood today," Angelique told him. "You can reach me there through dinner." Angelique thought of Quentin, and how they would have the house almost entirely to themselves now that Elizabeth and Carolyn were leaving. Maybe she could get Mrs. Johnson to take Amy somewhere!

Frank smirked and turned towards the foyer. "Well, it was nice meeting both of you," he told them.

Angelique looked over at John, and a thought came to her mind. "Oh, wait Mr. Paxton! Maybe you could drive John into town, I have an errand for him to do!"

John turned quizzically toward Angelique. "What is it?" he asked. Angelique motioned him to come to her while Frank waited in the foyer.

Angelique took her wallet out of her purse and turned conspiratorially towards John. "Actually," she said quietly, "I thought maybe I would pay you early so that you could buy yourself some clothes." She took out some money and handed it to John.

John glanced over at Frank waiting impatiently, then looked at the two bills in his hand. It was a hundred dollars. "Are you sure?" he said lowly, surprised.

Angelique squeezed his hand and smiled her dazzling smile up at him. "Of course! You're worth it," she told him…

Act Two:

Willie gulped nervously, then looked at Elizabeth, who stared at him impatiently. "Well, you see, Mrs. Stoddard, it's like this…"

"Yes, Willie?" Elizabeth asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Barnabas really cared about Miss Maggie, you see, and when she didn't feel the same way, he was too embarrassed to stick around!" That sounded about right, Willie thought.

"I gathered that much, Willie!" Elizabeth admonished. "But leaving town and going back to England!" she shook her head. "Barnabas is far too mature to behave like that. There must be another reason…"

Just then, there was a knock at the front doors, and Willie practically sprinted to answer the door. "Sabrina!" he yelled, greeting the brown-haired young woman.

"I came to see Carolyn before you left," Sabrina explained, looking from Elizabeth to Willie, sensing she was interrupting something.

"She's in the Drawing Room," Elizabeth told Sabrina.

"I—I've got to go get Julia's things!" Willie stammered. He practically made smoke come up as he rushed up the stairs.

Elizabeth shook her head again as she watched Willie depart into the upstairs hallway. "Come into the Drawing Room, Sabrina," she told the young woman. "We haven't much time. The taxi will be here any minute."

Carolyn was sitting on the sofa, her tea untouched in front of her. She looked up at Sabrina come in with her mother, and managed a small, sad smile. "Hello, Sabrina, what brings you here?"

"I came to wish you, bon voyage, of course!" Sabrina tried to be cheerful. She sat down beside Carolyn and gave her a little hug.

There was another knock on the front doors, and Elizabeth turned towards the sound. "Goodness! It's like Grand Central Station here!" She turned to go answer the knocks. "It must be the taxi driver."

But, it was not the taxi driver. "Elizabeth!" Angelique smiled brilliantly. "I'm so glad I caught you in time!"

"Angelique, I didn't expect you today! Carolyn and I are just about ready to go!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"I had a busy meeting this morning," Angelique explained. She felt it wouldn't do to get into the details now that Elizabeth was leaving the country. "I thought maybe Amy would like some company."

Elizabeth stepped aside to let her in. "Yes, I'm sure she would like that. Quentin is at the cannery, and I told her not to disturb our new houseguest."

"You have a houseguest?" Angelique asked curiously, as Elizabeth turned away to close the doors.

"Yes, you probably know of him. The famous pianist—Laszlo Ferrari!" Elizabeth told her.

Angelique's eyes lit up. "Laszlo Ferrari! Oh, I am such a fan of his! We briefly met at a party when I was modeling in New York. I wonder if he'll remember me."

Elizabeth smiled. "I don't think anyone could forget you, Angelique. Even if he can't physically see you, he'll definitely remember your voice!" The two women walked into the Drawing Room. "Carolyn! Sabrina! Angelique is here to see us off!"

"Hello, Angelique," Carolyn said quietly. Sabrina stood and stared at Angelique, turning pale.

"Good morning Carolyn. I hope you and Elizabeth enjoy Italy. I know I did." Angelique turned to Sabrina. "Sabrina, just before Barnabas left town, he told me to give you his regards."

Sabrina turned even paler. "Bar—Barnabas?" she stammered, her eyes filled with fear.

Angelique smiled wickedly…

Act Three:

John said good-bye to Frank Paxton and walked over to the Brewster's Department Store from Paxton's office in the village. He could tell the salespeople did not want him there, the way they stared at him and didn't approach him. He picked out a paisley shirt, some bell-bottom pants, new jeans and work-shirt, underwear and socks, as well as a new pair of boots, as his borrowed sneakers felt too tight. He noticed the sales staff were a little more friendly when he pulled two fifties out of his pocket. John decided to wear his new clothes out of Brewster's, and carried Willie's hand-me-downs in a shopping bag out into the salty air of Collinsport harbor.

As he breathed in the ocean air, John wondered if he had really been in Collinsport before. He still had no memory of the past, and he wondered how long it would be before he remembered anything, if ever… Could he stay in Collinsport indefinitely?

John's eye caught a loose newspaper page blowing in the wind. He saw a taxi cab drive by and the paper was scattered into the sky like a leaf in the wind. One of the passengers in the back seat of the taxi cab caught his eye—she kind of reminded him of Angelique, with her mass of pale blonde hair behind her head.

He felt compelled to follow the taxi. Her resemblance to Angelique was probably superficial, but he wanted to see for himself. He quickened his step as it drove around the corner.

From down the street, he could see the taxi pull up in front of the Collinsport Train Station. The driver got out and pulled some suitcases out of the trunk. John could see that one of the women had dark hair cut short in a bob.

But it was the blonde that he could not help staring at. As he walked closer, he could see that she was the younger of the two women, but she was not like Angelique after all. She was too petite, pale and thin. She wore a navy blue dress under a light coat, and a paisley scarf around her neck. John touched his own paisley shirt that he just bought, and realized he had picked out a similar color combination.

The taxi driver set the suitcases in front of the bench, and got back in his cab after the dark-haired older woman paid him. John felt that they were probably mother and daughter. They sat on a bench and waited.

John felt his heart beating like a drum as he walked closer to the two women. And with great trepidation, he felt as though he couldn't face them. With surprise, he saw the loose newspaper page had followed him. He managed to pick it up before the wind swept it back up again, and held it in front of his face. He paused in front some trees and pretended to read, his shopping bag hooked over one arm while he watched the women from afar.

The older woman with the dark hair stroked the younger woman's long blonde hair and looked concerned. He could not hear what they were saying, as the wind blew the words in the opposite direction. The blonde said something in reply, and as John slowly walked ever closer, he could tell that she was very sad.

Suddenly, John felt an immense feeling of sadness overcome him. He felt such pity for the fragile-looking young blonde, that he wanted to comfort her. He stopped again, feeling immense dread, as well as sadness, as he got closer to the train station.

The twelve-thirty train could be heard a great distance away. Elizabeth heard the approach and started to get up. "Come, Carolyn," she told her daughter. "It's the first day of the rest of our lives..."

Carolyn got up from the bench and forced a smile. But, as the train pulled into the station, blowing gusts as it slowed down, she felt more than just the train's exhaust, as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end…

Carolyn turned and finally noticed the tall blond man standing beside a tree with a newspaper sheet in one hand, and a Brewster's shopping bag on his arm. "Jeb…" she whispered, but she shook her head in disbelief. No, she was just seeing things. She turned to her mother with resolution, "Yes, I feel like going on a trip…"

As he watched the two women board the train with their suitcases, John felt a tear slide down his cheek, and he reached up to touched it with much surprise. "Why do I feel like this?" he asked himself. He watched the train leave the station, and waited a few more minutes, watching as the train grew smaller and smaller in the distance…


Elizabeth Stoddard… JOAN BENNETT

Carolyn Hawkes… NANCY BARRETT

Willie Loomis… JOHN KARLEN

Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER

Sabrina Stuart… LISA RICHARDS



Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
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Episode 990: Premonition

Fri. Apr. 10, 1970

A melancholy day in the seaside town of Collinsport, for John Jaeger who has watched Elizabeth and Carolyn leave by train… The two women are strangers to him, so he does not know why he feels sadness at their departure, as well as a strange feeling of foreboding that fills his very soul, as he makes his way back to the Old House on the Collins' estate…

John returned to the Old House by foot. He felt as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Not even the salty air of the sea, the new fragrance of the spring flowers as the bees buzzed happily nearby, or the sound of birds chirping merrily could bring him up out of the doldrums of his existence.

He entered the Old House quietly, shutting the door behind him and starting up the stairs with his shopping bag from Brewster's in one hand. Angelique, who was waiting in the drawing room for him, saw him come in and called to him.

John turned and faced Angelique as she came out of the drawing room. She was wearing a dark blue dress with a blue-white-red flower-print scarf around her neck. "John, what's wrong?" she asked.

John sighed. "Nothing, I just walked from Collinsport. I'm just tired, I guess."

Angelique shook her head. She knew there was something more. "No, it isn't nothing. Here, come into the drawing room and sit with me a moment."

John put the shopping bag on the little table in the foyer and followed her. They sat on the small sofa in the drawing room. She looked at him, and he just sat, staring ahead. "Well?" Angelique demanded.

"I don't know," John started. He turned and looked at Angelique. "I don't know what it is. After I went shopping, there was this girl. She had long blonde hair, like yours. She was with an older woman, with dark hair. I just felt compelled to follow them."

Angelique sat, listening. Carolyn and Elizabeth instantly sprang to her mind. "Did you talk to them?" she asked quietly.

John shook his head. "No, I didn't. I didn't even go near them. I watched them wait for the train. I don't know why..."

"Maybe you were just attracted to this girl," Angelique suggested. "You wanted to get to know her, but were too shy?"

John shook his head. "No, it wasn't that. I just felt sorry for her, somehow. She looked so sad, sitting there. The other woman spoke to her, and I could tell she was worried. I just felt so worried and sad myself, and I don't understand why." John looked at Angelique with sad eyes. "Do you think it's possible I knew them… before?"

"Anything's possible." Angelique put a hand on his and squeezed it softly. "Do you want to remember, really remember?"

John turned away and stared ahead again. "What do you mean, Angelique?"

"I might be able to help you," she told him. "I'm somewhat versed in hypnotism. I could help you remember if you know those people you saw today." She leaned in closer. "I could help you remember everything."

John gulped. He felt anxious, his heart started to beat madly. Could Angelique help him? She had done so much for him already. Was he ready to remember the past? He wanted to say yes, but something felt threatening to him, ready to consume and overtake him…

John pulled his hand away from hers and stood up from the sofa quickly. "No!" he turned back to Angelique and forced a small smile. "I… I need to remember at my own pace…" He began to back away from the sofa to the doorway. "It's not that I don't appreciate your help, Angelique… I'm not ready… I'm just not ready!" He quickly turned and grabbed his shopping bag from the foyer table and hurried up the stairs.

Angelique got up from the sofa and watched him go, but for once, she did not seem very pleased…

Act One:

Quentin stood in the Great Hall of Collinwood, talking on the phone to Elizabeth. "Yes, he seems to settling in nicely," he told her, glancing into the Drawing Room at Laszlo who was reading a Braille book by the fireplace.

"Good, I'm glad," Elizabeth said from a payphone, inside a busy Boston airport. "I really wish we could have stayed to get to know him better." Elizabeth paused. "And Amy, I hope she is not in anyone's way."

"Well," Quentin thought for a moment. "I've been in the office all morning, but Mrs. Johnson complained that she was trying to help her around the house." Quentin chuckled.

"Did you ask Sabrina about helping her with her studies?" Elizabeth asked, glancing out of the phone booth.

"Yes, I forgot to tell you I talked to her at the library. She's coming over in the evening for a couple of hours to check on Amy's work," Quentin explained.

Elizabeth heard an announcement over the airport intercom. "There's our flight, Quentin. I've got to go."

"All right, Liz. Enjoy your trip…" as Quentin hung up the phone there was a knock on the door.

"Angelique!" Quentin exclaimed after he opened the door and found the blonde witch standing there.

"Hello, Quentin," Angelique smiled. She kissed him on the cheek and walked into the foyer. After hanging up her coat, she looked towards the Drawing Room. "I thought maybe I'd come over and meet your guest."

"Well, we actually met the other day," Quentin said, embarrassed, "At the Blue Whale…"

"I thought that was him! I knew the face, but I couldn't place it," Angelique explained. She hooked her arm around Quentin's as they made their way to the Drawing Room.

"Laszlo!" Quentin called from the doorway. "I have someone I'd like you to meet!"

Laszlo turned his head towards Quentin's voice and closed his book, setting it beside him. He straightened up his maroon jacket as he stood up. With his white cane in front of him, he stepped away from the sofa.

"Actually," Angelique said, "We've already met. Besides the other day at the Blue Whale..." She took Laszlo's outstretched hand and grasped it warmly. "I'm Angelique Rumson. I'm sorry I couldn't properly introduce myself the other day during all that ruckus."

Laszlo smiled, twin Angeliques reflecting in the dark lenses of his glasses. "Oh yes! I recognize the voice from the other day! But you said we had already met?"

"Yes," Angelique told him. "About six months ago, we met at a party in New York. I was so shy… My husband, Sky Rumson, introduced us. We had just gotten married and were on our honeymoon…" Angelique thought bitterly of how happy she had been then, never suspecting what the future held!

Quentin raised an eyebrow and smirked at Angelique. "Well, well, well… Aren't we full of surprises!"

"Why, of course!" Laszlo exclaimed. "I remember you, now! I'm usually good at remembering voices, but I guess I was kind of out of it the other day! How have you been? How is your husband?"

Angelique looked dismayed. "Sky is dead," she told him. "He committed suicide two weeks ago." She turned and looked at Quentin with a knowing look.

"I--I'm so sorry!" stammered Laszlo. "Oh, what a shock… I just don't believe it."

"It's all right," Angelique reassured him. "I'm moving on with my life." She turned and smiled sweetly at Quentin, who was glad that Laszlo could not see the flush on his face. Quentin excused himself to the study so that the two old acquaintances catch up with each other.

"Tell me everything that's been going on in New York," Angelique told Laszlo as she led him back to the sofa…

Act Two:

Sabrina stood in the middle of a foggy Eagle Hill Cemetery. She wore a dark blue coat buttoned up to the neck. She turned and looked frightened as she heard a dog howl in the distance. "Chris… Chris!" she called out pitifully. She looked down and noticed that she was standing before Tom Jennings' grave. "Chris! Where are you?"

John stood in the shadows, watching her. He was not sure what had brought him here, but he was certain that the young woman was in trouble. Who was this Chris that she called for?

Sabrina clutched at her coat, pulling it tight to her body as she shivered in the damp graveyard. She continued on her search, walking towards the Collins mausoleum. "Chris! Chris are you in here?" She reached the mausoleum gate and pushed at it, the rusty hinges groaning in complaint at being opened.

John watched as she stepped into the old mausoleum, interested to find out who this Chris was, and why she was looking for him in this dead place.

As Sabrina's eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she was suddenly aware that she was not alone. "Chris? Chris, is that you?" she stammered. A growl emanated from the corner. An unmistakable growl, one that she had heard before. "No!" she shouted as she reached for the gate and hurried out of the mausoleum.

John watched as she closed the gate door behind her and ran across the graveyard. As she paused in front of Tom Jennings' grave, she let out a blood-curdling scream, then hurried on her way. John chased after her, only pausing to see that the grave said "Chris Jennings ~ 1940 – 1970 ~ Rest In Peace".

As Sabrina ran through the woods, John found himself chasing her. He could not stop himself. Something was forcing him to take part in this. As they ran, he could hear the growling and panting of some sort of dog or wolf following them. John remembered hearing the growling in the library.

Sabrina reached Chris's caretaker cottage and pounded on the door. Letting herself in, she closed the door behind her. John stopped and hid behind some trees. There was the sound of crashing glass, and screams, and the wild attack of some animal.

And then there was silence. John stepped out from behind the trees and stepped tentatively towards the cottage. He noticed that once of the windows had shattered inwards, glass lying all over the cottage floor, but he could not see anyone inside. Stepping towards the front door, he grasped the doorknob and turned it slowly, at the ready in case he heard the growling again.

"Miss Stuart?" he called out into the dark cottage. He stepped inside and looked for a light source. He picked up an overturned lamp and turned it on after he set it down on a side table. He turned and looked around the room. "Oh my God!" he gasped out loud.

There, lying in a crumpled heap, was the blood-covered body of a mutilated Sabrina. John glanced around but did not see the creature. He quickly knelt down beside her, and felt for a pulse, but she was already dead. "No… No!" he grimaced, shaking his head in despair.

"No… No!" John sat up in bed, sweat covering every inch of his body, Willie Loomis's too-small old t-shirt soaked right through.

"I've got to go warn her!" John gasped. He quickly got up from the bed. It was still afternoon. He had only meant to lie down on the bed for a short nap.

He changed his shirt and put on his boots, and bounded down the stairs of the Old House. Just then, Angelique opened the front door, happy after seeing Laszlo. She stopped as she saw John coming down. "John! What is it?" Angelique exclaimed. She saw his still sweaty brow and the worried expression on his face.

John came down to the first floor with a thud and grabbed Angelique's arm. "That girl! The one who works at the library! Miss Stuart! I've got to see her!"

Angelique shook her head with confusion. "What! Why? What is going on?"

"I don't have time to explain!" John said hurriedly. "Angelique, please let me borrow your car! I've got to go warn her, right now!"

Act Three:

Sabrina hummed to herself as she pushed the book cart down an aisle, listening to the soft classical music playing on her small radio on the front desk. Mr. Gladstone had gone home early, "To water the plants", and she had brought out the radio after he left.

She thought of Chris, and how glad she was that there was still eleven days till the next full moon. She thought of the last full moon, when the horrible Bruno Hess had been attacked by the werewolf. She had not been sorry to hear of his death…

Suddenly, she heard the tinkle of the little bell as the front door opened, and she stepped away from the book cart to see if the newcomer needed assistance. Glancing around the corner, she groaned when she saw who the patron was.

"Miss Stuart?" John shout-whispered across the library. "Miss Stuart? Sabrina, are you here?" He felt his heart thumping hard in his chest, wondering if he was going to hear the growls again…

"Yes, what is it?" she demanded, walking towards him from behind the bookshelves. She noticed that he had a panic-stricken look about his face.

John let out an audible sound of relief. "Oh, thank God! Thank God you're all right."

Sabrina was both annoyed and puzzled. "Yes, I'm all right Mister…"

"Jaeger, John Jaeger," John reminded her. "When I woke up from that dream, I was sure you were dead."

"Dream?" Sabrina asked, starting to feel a little panicky. Was this man insane? She glanced nervously over at the library phone in case she needed to call the police.

"I had a dream about you," John explained. "There was you, and a graveyard, and you were calling for someone named Chris…"

Sabrina gulped. She did not like where this was going. "You came here in a panic because of a dream?" she started to walk away. "I think you need help, Mr. Jaeger."

John grabbed her arm. "Please, Miss Stuart, you've got to listen to me."

Sabrina snatched her arm away from him and backed away, her fear now intermingling with anger. "Don't touch me!" she snapped.

John put his hands up and did not move. "All right, all right. Please, just listen to what I have to say, and then I'll go, I promise you!"

Sabrina steeled herself and nodded. Maybe she should listen and find out how much he knew about Chris. "Go ahead," she told him.

"I don't understand this myself," he began, "but after I left here yesterday, I worried all night. I thought that I was all right today, but then I had a dream while I was taking a nap this afternoon. You kept calling for someone named Chris, and then there was some sort of growling creature, a beast…" John gulped from the memory, and then he continued, "I never saw it, whatever it was, but I followed you to a cottage on the Collinwood estate…" he paused, shaking from the memory.

"Go on, Mr. Jaeger," Sabrina said coolly, even though she was not feeling very cool on the inside.

"I heard the screams, and the breaking glass," John continued, "But I never saw what was happening. I was always on the outside, listening in. Then there was silence, and I thought it was finally safe to go in…"

Sabrina was white and shaken by this point. "What did you find?" she whispered.

"At first I couldn't see anything, but the room was in shambles. I turned on a lamp that had been knocked to the floor, but unbroken… And then I saw you—you were lying on the floor, bloody." He stopped there unsure if he could really tell this young woman about her death.

Finally, he worked up the courage and blurted it out. "You were dead, Miss Stuart!" he exclaimed. "The creature had killed you!" He stared at Sabrina with wide, fearful eyes…


Elizabeth Stoddard… JOAN BENNETT

Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER

Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY

Sabrina Stuart… LISA RICHARDS


Laszlo Ferrari… MICHAEL STROKA

Victor Winters

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Episode 991: Dune

Mon. Apr. 13, 1970

Here at the Old House on the Collins Estate, Angelique now controls the residence during Barnabas' entombment, and her new handyman, John Jaeger, lives with her… John, while an amnesiac, has displayed certain psychic powers. A strange, terrifying dream has led him to the Collinsport Library to warn a certain young woman of her impending doom…

"I had a dream about you," John explained. "There was you, and a graveyard, and you were calling for someone named Chris…"

Sabrina gulped. She did not like where this was going. "You came here in a panic because of a dream?" she started to walk away. "I think you need help, Mr. Jaeger."

John grabbed her arm. "Please, Miss Stuart, you've got to listen to me."

Sabrina snatched her arm away from him and backed away, her fear now intermingling with anger. "Don't touch me!" she snapped.

John put his hands up and did not move. "All right, all right. Please, just listen to what I have to say, and then I'll go, I promise you!"

Sabrina steeled herself and nodded. Maybe she should listen and find out how much he knew about Chris. "Go ahead," she told him.

"I don't understand this myself," he began, "but after I left here yesterday, I worried all night long. I thought that I was all right today, but then I had a dream while I was taking a nap this afternoon. You kept calling for someone named Chris, and then there was some sort of growling creature, a beast…" John gulped from the memory, and then he continued, "I never saw it, whatever it was, but I followed you to the cottage on the Collinwood estate…" he paused, shaking from the memory.

"Go on, Mr. Jaeger," Sabrina said coolly, even though she was not feeling very cool on the inside.

"I heard the screams, and the breaking glass," John continued, "But I never saw what was happening. I was always on the outside, listening in. Then there was silence, and I thought it was finally safe to go in…"

Sabrina was white and shaken by this point. "What did you find?" she whispered.

"At first I couldn't see anything, but the room was in shambles. I turned on a lamp that had been knocked to the floor, but unbroken… And then I saw you—you were lying on the floor, bloody." He stopped there, unsure if he could really tell this young woman about her death.

Finally, he worked up the courage and blurted it out. "You were dead, Miss Stuart!" he exclaimed. "The creature had killed you!" He stared at Sabrina with wide, fearful eyes.

Sabrina shook her head. "No… No!" she turned and started to walk quickly back to behind the counter.

John followed her. "Please, Miss Stuart, you've got to listen to me!" He put his hands down on the counter. "I saw you in my dream, as clearly as I'm seeing you now! You were dead, and that creature killed you!"

Sabrina shook her head again and glared at him. "No, I don't believe you! You're insane!"

John put his hands up for emphasis. "I know, I know it sounds crazy. But I felt compelled to warn you—I can't explain it any clearer than that."

Sabrina nodded. "All right, Mr. Jaeger, you've warned me. Now please, leave me alone and don't come back!"

"Okay, okay I'll leave," John sighed. He started to walk away, then turned for one last plea. "Please be careful, Miss Stuart. Please."

Sabrina glared at him. "Good day, Mr. Jaeger!" She watched him leave the library, then she hugged herself, wondering if he really had a premonition, or if he was playing some sick game with her…

Act One:

As Quentin walked up the path to the Old House, he noticed an electrician's van, Paxton's Electric, drive away from the house down the unpaved woodsy road back to the main one. Quentin noticed that a new electrical pole was now erected next to the ancient home.

Quentin knocked on the door, and Angelique let him in, still wearing her dark blue dress with the paisley scarf from when she saw him at Collinwood, earlier. "Quentin!" Angelique exclaimed. "I didn't expect to see you again today!"

Quentin pointed out the door as Angelique closed it. "I see you've decided to bring the Old House into the twentieth century."

"What? Oh, the electricity," Angelique nodded. "Paxton's Electric was just here. They put in an electrical pole today. Hopefully they can start wiring inside the house soon." She stepped into the drawing room.

Quentin looked around and saw that all of the antique furniture was covered with old sheets. Anything that was loose had been put away. The candelabra's were still lit in the corners of the room, as well as some battery-operated lamps. Quentin let out a whistle. "It's going to be quite an undertaking, Angelique!"

"Yes, I agree!" Angelique smiled. "But so worth it!"

Quentin walked over to the bookcase that fronted the hidden room. "Don't you feel odd living here, Angelique?" He put a hand up to the sheet the covered the books and lightly touched it. Could Barnabas feel his presence out here?

"No, why should I?" Angelique asked. She stood in front of the sheet-covered table and started to pour her freshly-brewed tea into cups. "Would you like some of my special peppermint rose tea, Quentin?" Angelique asked.

"Sure," Quentin answered, still looking at the sheet-covered bookcase. "Doesn't it bother you that Barnabas is in there?" He turned and looked at her.

Angelique shook her head and finished pouring. "Barnabas is of no concern to me." She handed Quentin his tea and took a sip of her own. "Julia and Willie decided his fate."

"Julia and Willie felt like they were left with no other alternative." Quentin held the teacup and let it warm his hands. The spring evenings here at Collinwood were still chilly. "You could help him, you know," Quentin pressed. "End his curse..."

Angelique shook her head and frowned. "No Quentin, I did not cause his curse this time. The man who caused it is dead, and even I do not have the power to lift it. Only my Master has the power—and the price to pay Him is too great!"

Quentin nodded, and took a sip of the tea. "But why live here? Why go through all of the trouble of updating this place?"

Angelique walked right up to him and faced him. "This house belongs to me, Quentin. It was mine a long time ago, when Barnabas and I first married."

"Angelique…" Quentin took Angelique's teacup from her, and placed both of them back onto the table. He took her white slender hands into his own. "Angelique, I think you should stay at Collinwood. I don't like the idea of you living here all alone… with our friend," he said, glancing over to the bookcase. "Please, come stay with me."

"But I'm not alone, Quentin," Angelique told him. "I hired a handyman to live here." She tried to be as nonchalant about it as possible.

Quentin's eyes narrowed. "A handyman? Who?" He let go of her hands.

Angelique turned quickly, but Quentin could not tell if she was feeling guilty. "John Jaeger. The man we met at the Blue Whale. I hired him a couple of days ago. You see all the work that has to be done…"

"John Jaeger!" Quentin said sharply…

Act Two:

"John Jaeger!" Quentin repeated, "The man that looks just like Jeb Hawkes? Angelique, you don't even know him!"

"Quentin," Angelique said, facing the other way, "John Jaeger needed a job, and I needed a handyman, especially with all the work that needs to be done around here."

Quentin shook his head and began to pace the room. "I don't believe it," he said to himself. "I just don't believe it…" Suddenly, he grabbed Angelique by the shoulders, forcing her to turn around and look at him.

"Quentin!" Angelique gasped. She saw anger in his face, the same anger she had seen a couple of days earlier at the Blue Whale. She was certain Quentin was capable of murder. "Let me go, you're hurting me!"

"No way, Angelique!" Quentin smiled crazily as he shook his head. "I want you to tell me, once and for all… Is that man Jeb Hawkes?!"

"No!" Angelique wrenched herself from him. She turned back to him, rubbing her upper arms as she spoke. "Quentin, I'm going to tell you this one last time! John Jaeger and Jeb Hawkes are not the same person! Do you really think I would have Hawkes in this house? The man who ruined my life with Sky? The man who cursed Barnabas again, the man who broke Carolyn's heart, and probably was responsible for Carolyn's father's death? Do you really think that I would have hired him, given him a home while he recovers from amnesia, being a friend to him if I thought for one second he was Jeb Hawkes?" Angelique looked at Quentin with her eyes blazing as only hers could do. "Well, Quentin? Answer me!"

Quentin looked thoroughly chastised. "No," he admitted. "I'm sorry for doubting you, Angelique. I just felt so jealous all of a sudden. I don't understand what's come over me, lately."

Angelique glanced briefly down at the teapot, then back up to Quentin again. Suddenly, she was smiling again. "It's all right, Quentin, I don't mind if you're a little jealous." She went back to him and kissed him on the cheek. Quentin looked down in surprise. "Just don't let your jealousy get the better of you," she told him. "I've found that jealousy and fear eat away at our souls…"

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain…"

Bob Rooney put down his copy of Frank Herbert's Dune onto the bar and looked off into the distance. "What the…" he said quietly, wondering out loud.

Just then, the front door to the Blue Whale opened, and in strode the tall, blond-haired young man who he was sure he had seen a few times over the past months. "Mr. Rooney?" the young man asked.

"Yes?" Bob answered, closing his book and setting it aside.

John came to the bar and took fifty dollars of the money Angelique had given him out of his pants pocket. "I wanted to give you this. I'm sorry about the fight the other day." He held the money out in front of him.

Bob looked at the money, then up at John. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, young man, I can't take that. Mr. Collins already paid me for the damage."

"Mr. Collins, huh?" John said, feeling a little perturbed. "He took care of all of it?"

"Yes, and as much as it pains me to turn down money, I'm not a dishonest guy," Bob told him.

"All right," John nodded, taking a seat. "Well at least let me buy a drink. What do you recommend?"

"I just got in some spiced rum," Bob told him.

"Sounds good," John smiled. He wished he could remember if he liked spiced rum, or ever had it!

Bob poured themselves two glasses and handed one to John. "The Spice must flow!" Bob Rooney said with a chuckle, clinking his glass to John's before taking a swig.

John smiled politely, not knowing the reference. He took a sip of rum and decided he liked it…

Act Three:

John finished his glass of rum and set it down on the counter. Bob Rooney finished his and reached for the bottle. "Another spiced rum, young man?"

"Sure," John answered. "But call me John."

"I'll have some too!" a voice said from the doorway. Both Bob and John turned to see Quentin standing there.

"Wait a minute, now, Mr. Collins!" Bob exclaimed. "I don't want any trouble between you guys!"

Quentin stared at John. "There's not going to be any." He walked over to beside John at the bar. "Is there, Mr. Jaeger?"

John stared back at him. "No, not on my end, anyway…"

Quentin sat on the barstool next to John. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked sarcastically.

"It's a free country," John answered. Bob got out another glass and poured John, Quentin and himself some spice rum.

"Good," Quentin said, taking the glass of rum. "I just saw Angelique at the Old House," he said, taking a sip. "She said that you were working and living there… with her…"

"That's right," John answered, taking another sip. "Do you have a problem with that, Mr. Collins?"

"Oh, please call me Quentin," he said. "There's no need for us to be so formal. And no, I wouldn't normally have a problem with a handsome guy living with Angelique if I really knew him. But I don't really know you, do I?" Quentin asked.

John grinned over at Bob, who looked nervously at the two men, anticipating them arguing again. "I'm not a rapist, Mister… Quentin," John said. "At least, I hope not…"

"Oh, don't you know?" Quentin asked incredulously. "I would think a man would know if he was a criminal or not! Wouldn't you say so, Mister Yay… John?"

"Well, I don't know if you realize this, but I don't remember a thing about life before a few days ago, when I woke up in some mental hospital," John told him.

"Angelique told me a little," Quentin admitted. "And I myself might have had some experience with some memory loss of my own." Quentin looked at Bob Rooney staring at them, and decided to stand up. "Come, let's go over to a table for some privacy," he told John, motioning towards the seating area.

John shrugged resignedly and followed Quentin to a table far away from the bar. Bob Rooney opened up his copy of Dune and began to read some more.

Sitting down with their drinks, Quentin explained. "A few months ago, I myself came to Collinsport with amnesia. I had no idea who I was or where I came from. But a doctor named Julia Hoffman helped me remember my past."

"Julia Hoffman!" John exclaimed. "Redheaded, thin woman? Deep, raspy voice?"

Quentin nodded. "That's the one. How do you know her?"

"She was the doctor I saw at that hospital. What is it… Wind… something?" John tried to remember.

"Windcliff," Quentin answered. "Why didn't you stay there? She's an excellent doctor. She could have helped you like she helped me."

John looked down. "I don't know. There was just something about her. I felt fear for some reason." He looked up at Quentin. "I feel fear about a lot of things…"

"Fear is the mind-killer!" Quentin saluted with his glass, and took the last sip of rum…


Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER

Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY

Sabrina Stewart… LISA RICHARDS



Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
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Episode 992: Piano Man

Tue. Apr. 14, 1970

In the week that blind pianist, Laszlo Ferrari, has stayed at the Collins mansion, he has discovered that the inhabitants of the Great House are plagued by heartbreak and tragedy. No stranger to heartbreak in his own life, he has found an ally in Angelique Rumson, who is spinning her own web of deceit…

“And that was when I discovered that my partner was giving my compositions to a rival, who I shall not name, but I’m sure you can guess who he is—he’s more circus act than true musician,” Laszlo told Angelique bitterly. They were sitting in the Drawing Room at Collinwood, Laszlo sipping at a cup of Angelique’s special tea, while Angelique was pruning some potted chrysanthemums she had bought that morning--preferring to do the work on the plants here, instead of at the Old House where John was helping to paint the downstairs rooms.

After taking a sip of the peppermint rose-flavored tea, Laszlo set the teacup carefully down in front of him, and turned towards Angelique’s direction. “He was getting paid, of course, and my rival changed the compositions ever-so-slightly as to not be completely the same… I kicked my partner out, then. I haven’t written anything since… I haven’t trusted anyone since then, nor had the desire to keep playing. All my shows were cancelled… To make matters worse, it was the holidays… I’ve been in a depression all winter.” Laszlo sighed, and reached in front of him to pick up his teacup again.

Angelique paused in her pruning and looked sympathetically over at him. “I feel sorry for you, but you should have never let it bring you down. Unfortunately, there are too many people in this world who want to hurt or use you, and far too few people who want to help you…” She leaned over and squeezed Laszlo’s left hand gently. “You have to fight Laszlo, take control of your life, and shape it the way you want it to be!"

“I wish it were that easy, Angelique,” Laszlo said sadly. “But I just don’t feel it in my heart.”

“When I found out about Sky and Nicholas Blair, I felt so betrayed. Nicholas Blair was my own rival, and I thought he was out of my life for good. When I found out that my husband had been involved with Nicholas Blair’s schemes since before we were married, it almost destroyed me. In fact, Sky tried to kill me the night I found out—because Nicholas ordered him to!” Angelique paused for dramatic effect.

Laszlo was shocked. “How terrible! Your own husband!”

“Yes!” Angelique nodded, even though she knew Laszlo could not see her. “I managed to get away, and I came here to the Collins estate for refuge. An old friend of mine, Barnabas Collins, let me stay at the Old House for as long as I wanted to. I did see Sky one more time, and begged him to break free from Nicholas Blair, but he refused. In the end, Sky committed suicide, and I can’t say I’m sorry to see him gone. I loved him once, but now, I hate him—as much as you hate your ex-partner, I’m sure.”

“Yes, I do!” Laszlo said. Even though Angelique did not come right out and say it—and he was not brave enough to ask her—Laszlo wondered if Sky and Nicholas had been having an affair.

Angelique smiled to herself. “Anyway, now that Sky is dead, I own all of his possessions, including Little Windward Island where we lived. I’ve already contacted a real estate agent about selling the entire island.”

“Are you sure you want to do that, Angelique?” Laszlo asked. “I’m sure it must be a lovely location.”

“Barnabas left the Old House to me when he left for England,” Angelique explained. “The Old House has quite a number of repairs to be done—not just the wiring of the entire home for electricity. With the sale of Little Windward Island, I could buy and repair three or four Old Houses!”

“Well, you must take me on a tour of Little Windward Island while I’m staying in Collinsport,” Laszlo told her. “Maybe I would be in the market for an island vacation home!”

Angelique smiled and patted his hand as she got up to throw the chrysanthemum clippings into the fireplace. “For you, I would go back to Little Windward Island! There are some things I would like to retrieve before selling the place, anyway!” Her eyes reflected the burning flames of the fireplace, as she thought of all she could accomplish now—with the sale of Little Windward Island, and with Barnabas and Julia not around to stop her plans this time—she would be unstoppable!

Laszlo turned to look up towards her. “You make it all seem so easy, Angelique!” he told her. “You’ve moved on with your life so effortlessly… I wonder if I can possibly do the same…”

Act One:

After receiving a phone call at Collinwood from the interior decorator, Miss du Noir, Angelique bid good-bye to Laszlo and headed back to the Old House with her chrysanthemums—intending to start a new garden in the old, abandoned garden there—so that she would be there to greet Miss du Noir for their appointment.

After checking with the painters’ work, Angelique waited for the older woman on the front porch to avoid the paint fumes, and greeted the older woman after she pulled up the unpaved, bumpy drive in her black ’57 Chevrolet with pink interior, and pink fuzzy dice in the mirror.

Out of the car stepped Hannah du Noir, a middle-aged woman in her fifties with jet black hair sprayed hard and teased into a loose bun, a satiny royal blue dress with many chunky and gold necklaces, and of course large teardrop-shaped gold earring weighing down her earlobes. The two women greeted each other with kisses to the cheeks and made their way up the front stairs of the Old House, being careful to avoid the painted walls of the downstairs walls.

When they finally reached their destination, Angelique opened the doors to the room she wanted Hannah to concentrate on, and thrust the door open, standing back so that the older woman could enter the room first.

Hannah du Noir gasped when she saw the antique bedroom with its colonial-style furniture. “Oh, Angelique! It’s so lovely!”

Angelique frowned at first, but smiled at Hannah after she closed the door behind her. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

Hannah went over to the old vanity and picked up the real silver mirror and brush set and exhaled. “Oh! These must be about two hundred years old!” She set them down after turning them over in her hands, then picked up a crystal bottle filled with jasmine fragrance and sniffed intently.

Angelique folded her arms over her chest and smiled wryly. “One hundred and seventy five, to be exact!”

Hannah turned to her after setting down the perfume. “Oh? You know for sure? Are these all original? No replicas?” She looked around and stared with amazement.

“No replicas,” Angelique admitted. She followed Hannah’s gaze to the portrait of the pretty young woman who’s picture hung above the bedroom’s fireplace.

“Is she…” Hannah gestured towards the portrait and walked towards it, entranced.

“Yes, Hannah. She is the original inhabitant of this room—Josette du Pres Collins, wife of Jeremiah Collins!” Angelique stepped up behind Hannah and stared up at her hated rival. “She lived, and she died in this room! Some say she killed herself—she was never the same after Jeremiah died. She took her own life… poisoned herself.” Angelique smiled wickedly. She knew very well Josette killed herself over Barnabas, but she was not willing to say it out loud, not even to a relative stranger like Hannah du Noir.

Hannah tsked and shook her head. She looked at Angelique. “What a shame! The poor woman.” She turned to look around the room. “And to think, this room is still the same after all these years…”

Angelique turned from staring at the portrait to look as well. “Yes, all these years…” She looked directly at Hannah. “And that is why, my dear Miss du Noir, you are here. It’s time for a change. If this is to be my room, I want everything changed. I made some sketches of what I had in my mind…” Angelique walked over to the door to take Hannah back to the room where she had left her sketchpad.

Hannah shook her head with amazement. “Are you sure, Angelique? This room is so lovely! It would be a shame to take it all down!”

“Quite sure!” answered Angelique. “In fact, I just hired a local artist to start work on my own portrait to replace the one up there!” She gestured towards Josette’s portrait above the fireplace.

“Well, I would certainly love to have some of these beautiful antiques if you decide not to keep any of them,” Hannah told her.

As the two women left the bedroom to look at Angelique’s sketches, the eyes on Josette Collins’ portrait appeared to follow them—glow, in fact. Neither woman noticed this, and Angelique shut the door behind her…

Act Two:

Amy Jennings had just finished tying a green handkerchief around her eyes. She had seen Laszlo Ferrari make his way around the rooms with his white stick, and Amy, with no one to play with, had decided to amuse herself by pretending to be blind.

It wasn’t really just for amusement, though. Amy was curious to “see” what life was like without the power of sight, and she was embarrassed to let anyone see her. Once she was sure that no adults were around the first floor—she thought perhaps Quentin was in the study and Mrs. Johnson in the kitchen—Amy had decided that this was her chance.

Now, with blindfold on, and a fire-poker in one hand to simulate a white stick, Amy started on her journey from the foyer into the Drawing Room. Starting at the front doors, Amy flailed her arms in front of her, walking on a curved path until she hit the handrail of the staircase. Correcting her path, she ended up banging into the hall table with her midsection, the fishing man statuette falling over, knocking the telephone off of its cradle. She reached blindly out and corrected the phone, not knowing that Quentin was on the phone in the study, wondering ‘What was that noise?’, as it interrupted his phone call.

She felt the fire-poker hit one of the Drawing Room doors and, reaching for the handles, managed to thrust open the doors without seeing them for once. She tried to turn around and reach for the Drawing Room doors, but she managed to find only one of them in the dark. As she pulled it shut, she stepped back to search for the other one, but miscalculated how far to the right it should be…

Quentin came out of the study after losing his phone call, to see if there was something wrong. It had sounded like someone was trying to use the phone, but dropped it. Just as he glanced over to the telephone, and saw that the fishing man statuette was knocked over, Quentin heard perhaps one of the largest clattering and shattering noises ever…

Amy had accidentally knocked the tray with glasses on it off of the liquor table in her furtive search for the other Drawing Room door. She was not sure what Laszlo would do in a situation like this. She supposed that he would try to pick up the pieces of glass back onto the tray, then try to find a dustpan and broom. As she knelt down, she heard a booming voice exclaim: “Now, just what the… heck is going on here?!”

Quentin looked down with disbelief to see a blindfolded pig-tailed girl of thirteen all dressed in green kneeling before an overturned silver platter and broken pieces of glass on the floor. She let go of her fire-poker and let it also clatter to the floor. “Amy Jennings!” he admonished. “What do you think you are doing?” he demanded, stooping over to pull the blinded young girl to her feet.

“I—I just wanted to see what it was like!” Amy stammered. Quentin let go of her arm to pull the blindfold off her face.

“You were trying to be blind?” he asked incredulously, holding up the handkerchief accusatorily.

“Yes,” Amy nodded. “I’ve been watching Las… Mr. Ferrari get around the house, and I wanted to see how it’s like to be blind!”

Quentin shook his head with dismay. “Come on, Amy, let’s go find Mrs. Johnson and ask her for a dustpan!” He held her handkerchief in one hand, and led her through the Drawing Room doors out into the Great Hall with the other. “For shame, Amy! Making fun of someone’s disability like that! You’re old enough to know better!”

Amy stopped dead in her tracks. “I wasn’t making fun!” she protested. “I truly thought I could understand what it’s like much better if I blinded myself!”

Quentin decided to take a different approach. He knelt down in front of the girl to see eye-to-eye. “Amy, I’m sure you meant well enough, but we just don’t go around, pretending to be... disabled! What if someone was in a wheelchair, and you also got in a wheelchair, just to pretend you needed it? Even if you weren’t really making fun of them, they would feel like you were!”

Amy nodded and grimaced. “Oh... I never really thought about it that way!”

Quentin smiled. “Come on, let’s go get that broom and dustpan!” He began to stand up. “Now, I don’t want you to pretend to be blind, anymore! Mr. Ferrari would not appreciate it!” Quentin turned, and was surprised to see Laszlo standing under the balcony, listening…

Act Three:

“Laszlo!” Quentin exclaimed. He had his hand across Amy’s shoulders, ready to walk back to the kitchen. Quentin felt his face flush with embarrassment, and was glad that Laszlo could not see it. He only hoped that he could not hear it, as well.

Laszlo smiled, and made his way into the Great Hall. “It’s all right Quentin! Don’t scold Amy for being curious! I wish more people knew what it was like to be blind.”

Amy looked up at Quentin and gave a little smile. Quentin gave a small, weak smile to the young girl. “You heard it all, didn’t you?” asked Quentin quietly.

“Yes,” Laszlo answered. He then spoke to Amy: “It’s hard work being blind, isn’t it, Amy?”

“Yes, I kept banging into things,” she answered. “I’m afraid I broke some things too…”

Quentin saw the fishing man statuette on the hall table and set it upright. There was also a vase full of flowers. Quentin looked at them and said to Amy, “Yes, and it’s a miracle you didn’t break more! Go find that broom and dustpan from Mrs. Johnson—and don’t let her do it herself! Mrs. Johnson is too busy to clean up your messes!” he called after her as Amy scurried back to the kitchen.

Quentin put a hand on Laszlo’s shoulder. “If you’re going into the Drawing Room, watch out for the glass on the floor!”

Laszlo felt his heart skip a beat at the sound of Quentin’s voice so near him, and the feel of Quentin’s hand on his shoulder. “I’ll manage,” he replied. He scraped his white stick on the floor, listening for the sound of scraping glass.

Quentin leaned over and held one of the doors back for him. “Kids like to play around,” Quentin told him. “I hope Amy didn’t really offend you. She really was just curious.”

Laszlo stopped and stared towards Quentin. “Really, it’s all right, Quentin. I’m glad she wanted to know what it’s like. I wish more people would try to find out. In fact, I think you should try to be blind!”

Quentin shook his head. “Me? Seriously?” He chuckled.

“Seriously. Do you have something? A scarf or something you could use?” Laszlo asked.

“You are serious!” Quentin looked down and realized he was still holding Amy’s handkerchief. “Well, I have this handkerchief that Amy was using…”

“Great!” Laszlo smiled. “Now put it on, and I’ll lead you to the couch!” Laszlo thought of Angelique, and forced himself to be brave. “You’ve tied the handkerchief around your eyes?”

Quentin nodded, but realized he wasn’t being seen. “Yes, it’s on... Are you sure about this?” he was starting to feel a little embarrassed.

Completely sure!” Laszlo affirmed. Gathering up his courage, Laszlo put his right arm through Quentin’s left and led the taller man to the sofa. Quentin dropped undignifiedly down onto the sofa with a plop. “Now, sit here, and just listen while I play you a song!” Laszlo patted Quentin on the shoulder.

“But… I thought you didn’t play anymore!” Quentin asked towards Laszlo’s voice. He felt vulnerable not being able to see anything.

Someone convinced me to stop living in the past today!” Laszlo called over his shoulder, as he made his way over to the piano with the aid of his white stick. Finding the seat, he slipped onto the bench, the first piano bench in four months—when before he had played almost every day—and placed his hands on the slick ivory keys.

Laszlo thought back—to his partner who betrayed him, to his rival who would like nothing more than to see him fail, to the man who lived in another house nearby whom he felt fondly for, and the strange, bewitching woman who also lived in the house nearby—and realized he was not alone... anymore. Even this tall man who sat nearby, blindfolded, who he never thought would be his friend, was starting to become one. With this in mind, he thought out a new tune that was forming in his mind, and began to play—tentatively at first, but soon it become a melody—a melody that transfixed all those who listened…


Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER


Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY

Laszlo Ferrari… MICHAEL STROKA

Hannah du Noir… PAULA LAURENCE

Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
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Rhode Island
Episode 993: Moon Poppy

Wed. Apr. 15, 1970

Many changes have taken place at the Old House on the Collinwood Estate… Angelique Rumson has taken over—she is the Queen of the Old House for now—but her sights are set even higher than her new handyman John Jaeger realizes…But, a presence at the Old House exists that could stop Angelique from realizing her schemes…

Angelique walked downstairs to the foyer of the Old House carrying three books to be brought back to Collinsport University Library. She had already put her light Spring coat on to go out. Setting the books on the table in the foyer, she walked over to the drawing room to find John plugging a lamp into the wall behind the sheet-covered sofa.

“Good, you have them all plugged in,” she said, looking around the room. There was a tall, street-light looking lamp erected in each corner of the room, as well as the hanging chandelier, now with a set of twelve small candle-shaped light-bulbs ready to be lighted with the flick of a switch.

John stood up. “It’ll be ready to go by the time the electric company turns on the electricity,” he told her. He dusted off his knees and looked at his handiwork.

“I can hardly wait,” Angelique smiled. “You don’t know how much I miss the modern conveniences…” She looked around the room at the soft light rose pink color of the freshly painted walls. She looked over the fireplace, where Barnabas’ portrait had hung, now safely tucked away in the attic. She thought of Barnabas, safely hidden away in the Secret Room, and how disappointed he would be when and if he ever found out about his beloved Old House.

John stared at Angelique for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Angelique… I thought maybe… if you had an errand in town for me…”

Angelique turned and looked quizzically at the tall blond man. “Oh? What did you have in mind? Was there any reason in particular you wanted to go into town?”

John turned and stared out the window. Even though it was the afternoon, he found himself looking for the moon each evening as soon as it appeared. It seemed that the fuller the moon got, the more it frightened him. “I’ve been thinking about that girl—Miss Stuart. I told you about my dream…”

Angelique suddenly felt jealous. She hated herself for it, for it was not John that she wanted—it was Quentin. But the idea of John worrying about and seeing Sabrina disappointed her. She narrowed her eyes. “Did you have another dream?” she demanded.

John averted his eyes. He could tell that she was getting upset. “Yes, I had a similar dream last night. Miss Stuart was killed by a wolf, that walked like a man!”

“You’re assuming that the dream is a premonition.” Angelique walked towards him. “For all you know, you could have simply met her, and now you’re just fixated on her, for whatever reason…” she said disdainfully. “Do you think that warning her—actually going to where she works—will prevent this dream from happening?”

“I have to, Angelique…” John shook his head. “I have to at least try. I believe it’s real… I don’t know why.”

Angelique thought for a moment. “It’s possible that you have psychic abilities,” she told him. “If you could just remember your past…” She walked over to the library books on the foyer table and picked them up. “You could bring these back to the library for me,” she said, carrying them over to him. “And you could warn Miss Stuart, one last time.” She put the books in John’s hands.

He looked down at her design books with surprise. “So you do believe me?” he asked incredulously.

Angelique nodded. “Yes, if my hunch is right, and you are psychic, I think that you should give it one more chance.” She walked over to her purse and took out a small notepad and pen. “Here are a couple of books I want you to check out for me this time. One is on Astrology and the other on Meditation. They’re for you—I think that you would find them interesting. Here…”

John took the note from Angelique while he cradled the books in one arm, and stuffed it in his pocket. “Thanks, Angelique,” he smiled.

Angelique looked up at him with a serious look on her face. “But, if she doesn’t believe you THIS time, I want you to give up on Miss Stuart! If she doesn’t believe you, then there’s nothing more you can do!”

John nodded, and put the books in his satchel. He hoped that he would have more luck this time—he knew that time was running out…

Act One:

Sabrina was stamping books and putting them on the returns cart. Mr. Gladstone had just come back with a mysterious brown parcel—he had left earlier in the afternoon to go home to retrieve it—and Sabrina wondered to herself what was so important that he had to bring it back to the library. She thought maybe it was some new books, but she did not feel close enough to Horace to ask him about it.

Horace came out of the back office and glanced over at Sabrina. "I can take the returns cart if you want to watch the front desk,” he told her. Sabrina nodded, and put the last of the returns on the cart. But, just as soon as Horace Gladstone started to wheel the cart away, the front door bell chimed merrily as a new patron walked through the door.

Horace and Sabrina turned to looked, and Sabrina groaned out loud with dismay. She turned to Horace and pleaded with her big brown eyes. “Please, Mr. Gladstone… Please let me do the returns cart! I just can’t face that man again! Remember the other day…”

She thought for sure that Horace would refuse, but to her surprise, he actually nodded and motioned towards the cart. “Go ahead, Miss Stuart.”

“Thank you!” she half-whispered, but Mr. Gladstone looked embarrassed. Just as John reached the counter, Sabrina took the cart and scurried away quickly.

John pulled Angelique’s books out of his satchel and set them on the counter. He glanced over at Sabrina’s departing form. “Mrs. Rumson wanted these books this week,” he told Horace, handing him the handwritten note.

Horace nodded and took the note. “I can get these for you,” he said. He was actually hoping that he could spare Sabrina having to see the young man, and send him on his way as quickly as possible.

“All right, thank you,” John told him. As Mr. Gladstone left with the note, John turned and scanned the library for Sabrina. He quickly walked over to where he had seen her take the cart and headed that way. Peering around the corner, he saw her straightening out a bookshelf.

“Miss Stuart?” he said quietly. He tried to stand back and not be intrusive, but at the same time, he had to make her understand she was in danger—he was sure of it!

She looked with alarm at seeing this strange young man who had dreams that she did not want to think about. “I told you I didn’t want to see you again!” she snapped.

“I know… I know!” he put his palms up. “Miss Stuart… Sabrina, I had another dream. I’m positive it’s a premonition. I have a feeling something is going to happen—soon!”

Sabrina shook her head. “I told you I DON’T want to hear it. Please leave me alone!” She grabbed the cart to push it away.

“Sabrina, please!” John called out. “I feel it’s getting closer, every day. I know that there’s a full moon soon—I have a feeling the full moon is when It's going to happen!”

Sabrina stopped and felt a chill move up and down her spine. Was this man psychic? Chris would never hurt her—she knew he wouldn’t! If he was going to, Chris would have killed her when he was in his werewolf form the first time she saw him transform!

Horace came up to the front of the aisle and glanced back and forth at Sabrina and John. “Is there a problem here?” He looked at Sabrina, and he could tell that she was pale and shaken.

“No, Mr. Gladstone, there’s no problem,” Sabrina said quietly. “Mr. Jaeger was just leaving.”

Horace looked at John. He walked over to him and plopped the books he requested forcefully into his arms. “Here are your books,” he said coolly to John. “I think it would be best if Mrs. Rumson came and got her own books, from now on.” He leaned forward, and said with an edge to his voice: “It would be a shame if I had to call the police…”

John nodded with understanding. He stuffed the books into his satchel and took one last look at Sabrina, who quickly turned away. Without saying another word, he dejectedly left the library. Horace turned and looked back at Sabrina, without a word, raising one eyebrow archly…

Act Two:

Hannah du Noir and Angelique met in Josette’s room with fabric swatches that Hannah brought in from her office. Angelique looked excitedly through the swatches, oohing and ahhing over the more modern and bolder colors. “These were as different from the existing colors as I could find,” Hannah explained.

“I love this,” Angelique held up an orange satin fabric that would look perfect for her new swan-shaped bed she was having made by an expert craftsman in Vermont.

Hannah suddenly felt a chill in the room and hugged herself. She looked around the room, wondering where the draft was coming from. “Are you SURE you want to change everything, Angelique?” she asked nervously. She was not sure what it was about this room—it made her feel uncomfortable for some reason…

Angelique glared over at the older, black-haired woman. “Of course I’m sure!” she snapped. She glanced through the fabric swatches and looked at a color that would look perfect for the chaise lounge she wanted to put in the room.

Hannah walked over to the vanity and looked in the mirror, patting her hair and checking her makeup. She saw the reflection of Josette’s portrait and could have sworn that the woman in the picture was staring at her. She gasped and looked quickly behind her, but of course it was not.

Angelique pinned notes to each swatch she wanted to use, indicating what each was for. Suddenly, the two women heard the front door slam shut downstairs and a man’s voice calling out. “That must be John!” she declared.

She brought her swatches over to Hannah and set them on the vanity. “Here, match these to the things on my sketchpad. Come downstairs when you’re done.”

Angelique went downstairs and found Quentin standing in the middle of the drawing room. “Quentin!” Angelique exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to see you here, today!”

Quentin stared at the freshly painted walls, the new electrical lamps that were plugged in, but not on, and stared at the sheet-covered furniture that had some paint splatters on them. “I left the cannery early, today,” he replied. “Wow! You have been busy since the other day!”

“Of course!” Angelique smiled. She went up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Quentin held her hand and looked around the room for a place to sit. "I’ve been thinking a lot lately. There are certain things from my past that I want to talk to someone about.” He glanced down at Angelique. “You’re the only person around here that knows almost everything about me—except for Julia, of course, but she’s at Windcliff now…”

Angelique pulled back one of the sheets off of the sofa and indicated to Quentin to sit down. “My interior decorator is upstairs at the moment, but I can talk now, if you want…”

Quentin sat down on the uncovered sofa next to her. “We go back a long time, don’t we, Angelique?” he smiled wryly. “Remember when we were engaged? About seventy-five years ago, I think…”

“Of course Quentin!” Angelique smiled at the memory. “But you were really in love with Beth Chavez, back then—or was it Amanda Harris?”

Quentin had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “Yeah… Maybe that’s always been my problem—too much love to go around…”

“Is that what you want to talk about, Quentin?” Angelique asked. “Are you in love with two women again… or three, perhaps?”

“Well… It’s not really a love affair that I’m worried about right now,” Quentin conceded. “It’s the personnel at the Collins Cannery. They need some background information about me… and, well, you and I both know I can never reveal the real truth—that I’m one hundred years old and being kept alive by a magical portrait!”

Act Three:

Angelique stared at Quentin and laughed. “Yes, the world would be surprised at our true selves!”

Quentin sighed. “Elizabeth and Roger think that I’m a distant cousin from France! I mean, that’s partly the truth—I did live in France at one point, and I am a distant relative, I’m Roger and Elizabeth’s grand-uncle—but they can never know the truth! I can just see it now—Liz, remember your Uncle Quentin who moved to France when he was just a very young-looking forty-year old? Well, I’m not his grandson, I’m Him!”

Angelique reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’m here to help, Quentin… If there’s anything I can do…”

Quentin smiled at her and reached up to tuck a lock of blonde hair away from her face. “I’m not sure you can… You see, I’ve been living as a man named Grant Douglas for the past twenty years. I had a fake birth certificate made and everything. As far as the world is concerned, Quentin Collins died decades ago…”

“Maybe you could see a lawyer…” Angelique told him. She thought of a certain man she knew who had an office, right in Collinsport. “I’m sure he could help you if the cannery personnel is giving you too much trouble…”

“Thanks, Angelique,” Quentin told her. “I know I’ll need to speak to someone soon. I don’t know how long I can keep avoiding this, until someone finds out about my past in Portland.”

Just then, the front door of the Old House opened, and John walked in, feeling as though he had failed in his mission. Angelique and Quentin looked up from the sofa and saw him walk in. “John! How did your mission go?” Angelique called over to him.

John walked into the drawing room and scowled when he saw Quentin sitting next to Angelique. “Not very good, I’m afraid. I get the distinct impression that I’m not welcome at the Collinsport Library anymore… Good afternoon, Quentin.”

“Good afternoon, John,” Quentin smiled, but he was still not sure what to make of John Jaeger, just yet. He glanced at Angelique, but she looked at John with a worried look.

Upstairs, the sound of a woman screaming broke the silence between the three people. Quentin and Angelique stood up in alarm. The sound of footsteps pounded down the stairs, and Hannah du Noir practically ran into John’s arms as he stood at the foot of the stairs, looking up.

“Somebody touched me!” Hannah gasped putting her hands up to her be-necklaced throat. She stared upstairs nervously, quite sure that she had been followed down the stairs.

Angelique rushed over to her. “Don’t be silly, Hannah! There’s no one else in the house right now, besides us!” She gestured to herself and the two men.

“Believe me, Angelique!” Hannah insisted. “I was touched!” Both John and Quentin looked at each other with questioning expressions.

Angelique waved dismissively. “It was just your imagination!”

“I—I’ve got to get out of this house!” Hannah stammered. “I’ve got to go!” She shoved past the trio and could not open the front door fast enough. Angelique turned and stared up the stairs with narrowed eyes, wondering if Hannah du Noir really had felt something up in Josette’s room…

Meanwhile, across town, Sabrina put her light spring coat on to leave for the day. It was half past six o’clock, and Horace was already gone. Sabrina had just shooed the last patrons out the door. “I’ve got to go!” Sabrina said aloud with a sigh, as she locked the door and went around the library to shut off the lights.

But, when she turned to go back to the front desk, she let out a gasp when she saw something sitting on a table—something she was positive was not there when Horace was leaving to go home. As she walked closer, Sabrina could not believe her eyes. She dared not hope that what she was seeing was really, truly sitting on the table…

It was another moon poppy. Just like the one she had ordered for Chris before the previous full moon. The moon poppy that Chris destroyed before he could take one bite of the bloom, the bloom that would ensure he never turn into the werewolf again… So the legend said.

Touching the plant with one hand, she glanced quickly around the room, just in case there happened to be someone still in the building. Picking the plant up, she hurried to the front door, opening it and glancing outside. Seeing no one, she looked down at the potted plant and hugged it. “Who could have left it here?” she wondered aloud. She wanted to cry. She never dared to hope that she and Chris would have a second chance. “Thank you, whoever you are…”

Little did Sabrina know, but Horace Gladstone had waited outside. He had found a corner to hide behind and waited until he was sure that Sabrina found the moon poppy. Seeing her standing there in the doorway with the plant in her arms, he smiled an uncharacteristic, pleasant smile, and made his way back home…


Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER

Sabrina Stuart… LISA RICHARDS

Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY


Horace Gladstone… JOHN HARKINS

Hannah du Noir… PAULA LAURENCE

Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
Reaction score
Rhode Island
Episode 994: Blast From The Past

Thu. Apr. 16, 1970

Thanks to his magical portrait that ages while he stays young, Quentin Collins has led a long and eventful life… Now, the past that he has invented for himself to the modern Collins family has begun to show its cracks… So Quentin seeks the advice of a lawyer named Tony Peterson, in the village of Collinsport…

Quentin paused outside Anthony Peterson’s law office, steeling up his nerve to face the questions that Mr. Peterson would be sure to ask him. “This is it, old boy,” Quentin said out loud.

Taking a deep breath, he rapped on the front door. “Come in!” a man’s voice called out, presumably Mr. Anthony Peterson’s, and Quentin let himself in.

Tony was putting some papers into a filing cabinet, when he looked up and saw Quentin Collins enter. Although, he had not really seen Quentin before, he had heard of him, especially from Elizabeth Stoddard, whom Tony had recently spoke to.

“Mr. Peterson? I’m Quentin Collins…” Quentin strode over to Tony and extended his hand.

Tony shook Quentin’s hand. “Of course, I didn’t expect anyone else. Please, call me Tony.” Tony gestured towards the chair in front of his desk as he made his way to his own chair. “Please sit down. Would you like a drink?”

“Please,” Quentin breathed a sigh of relief. This might be easier with some fortification.

“Sherry all right?” Tony asked as he reached for the decanter, and Quentin nodded. “I’ve spoken to your cousin, Elizabeth, so I have heard of you before,” Tony said, as he poured their sherry into the small glasses.

“Oh, I hope nothing too terrible,” Quentin chuckled nervously.

“She’s in here about once every six months, changing her will.” Tony handed Quentin a sherry and then sat himself behind his desk with his. “Then there’s the usual Collinsport rumor mill…”

“Yes,” Quentin nodded, before he downed his sherry in one gulp, “The good-old rumor mill! I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of truths and half-truths.”

Tony saw Quentin set down his empty glass and noticed that Quentin was nervous. “Right. Now, what can I do for you today, Quentin Collins?”

Quentin looked around the room nervously, staring at the various volumes on the bookshelf. “Can I count on anything I say here today stay between you and me?” He glanced over at Tony with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course! I believe strongly in client confidentiality,” Tony leaned forward and rested his chin on his fingers. “I’m not going to rush to the phone and tell on you like some errant child! You can count on me, Quentin Collins!”

Quentin looked down. He had already decided he was not about to tell Tony Peterson the whole truth. If he started to talk about magical portraits, Peterson would probably call the men in white on him. So, Quentin made up a truth that was as close to the real truth that failed to mention magic portraits, werewolves, or gypsy curses…

“What if I were to tell you…“ He looked up at Tony, “That there was no Quentin Collins!”

Tony leaned back in his chair. To say that he could not be more surprised if Quentin did tell him about werewolves and curses, would be an understatement. Tony slurped down the rest of his sherry and set it back down. “More sherry… Not Mister Quentin Collins?”

“Yes, please!” Quentin said, staring at Tony, wondering what he was thinking. “What if I were to tell you, that Quentin Collins was just a name I adopted, so that the Collins family would more readily accept me?”

Tony handed him another sherry. “Oh, and what was your name before Quentin Collins, the name on your birth certificate?” He sat on the edge of his desk in front of Quentin and sipped at his sherry.

“The name on my birth certificate?” Quentin stared at him. He thought of the birth certificate he had made back in 1950 on the black market “Grant Douglas. I was born in 1941, in Portland, Maine.” He swigged down his sherry and set it down. He leaned towards Tony and pleaded. “I was the illegitimate child of the first Quentin Collins, and I thought, foolishly, it would be better to introduce myself as his namesake! Now, I’ve got personnel breathing down my neck at the Collins Cannery, wanting to know my work history, and I don’t know how I’ll ever tell the family I’m not really Quentin Collins, but Grant Douglas!”

Tony sat there, his mouth slightly open in amazement, unsure of what to say…

Act One:

Amy paced from the Drawing Room to the foyer in the Great House impatiently. She looked back at the kitchen and wondered what was taking Laszlo so long with Mrs. Johnson. She was wearing a new sleeveless navy blue dress with a magenta skirt that Angelique helped her pick out at Brewster’s.

“Hurry up, Laszlo!” she said out loud. She looked at the grandfather clock and saw that it was about three o’clock in the afternoon. She did not want to wait around long enough for Mrs. Johnson to say that it was too late for them to go out for ice cream and that it would ruin her dinner.

Just then, the front doorbell rang. “I’LL GET IT!” Amy screamed towards the back. She rushed towards the front doors and called out “WHO IS IT?”

She opened the front doors abruptly, but not all the way open, and peered out into the afternoon light. A man wearing a light gray leisure suit with a yellow shirt stood there with a pleasant smile on his face. “Why, hello there!” he said kindly.

“Hello!” Amy grinned. The man was very handsome, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. He was very fashionable too, with a black scarf with brown and yellow paisley flowers on it.

“Could you tell me,” he leaned down towards the little girl, “If Mister Quentin Collins is home?”

“Well, I think he’s still at work right now,” Amy answered. “Do you want to call the Collins Cannery?” she opened the doors all the way and gestured back towards the telephone on the hall table. Amy was sure this nice-looking man was no danger.

The dark-haired man looked past Amy, his eyes seeming to sparkle as he looked in at the Great Hall. He shook his head politely. “Oh, no. I don’t want to disturb him if he’s at work. I’ll just come back later when he’s at home.”

“Who should I say was here?” Amy called out as the man started to walk away.

He turned and flashed a smile. “Oh, I’d better not tell… You see, I want it to be a surprise!”

Amy smiled her wide-eyed smile, delighted. “Ooooh! A surprise! Don’t worry, I won’t tell him I even saw you!”

The mysterious stranger held up a ring gesture. “Good! I’ll come back later!” he turned and walked down back to the driveway where he had his car parked.

“Who was that, Amy?” Laszlo asked the young girl, startling her as she watched the stranger get into a car.

Amy turned after giving a little jump. “Laszlo! Oh… um… it’s a surprise!”

Laszlo raised his eyebrows behind his dark glasses. “A surprise? A surprise for whom?”

Amy looked back as the car drove away. “Ummm… for Quentin! But please Laszlo, don’t tell Quentin he was here! He wants to come back later and surprise him!”

Laszlo looked as quizzical as a blind man could manage. “I don’t even know who he is!” he exclaimed.

“Good!” Amy said. “Neither do I!”

“Okay, neither of us know who was here, so how can we tell Quentin anything?” Laszlo tried to be logical about this.

Amy nodded. “Good point, Laszlo! Now… can we go get ice cream?”

“Sure, is the taxi here yet?” Laszlo asked.

Amy looked down the driveway. “No, not yet.”

“Well, let’s wait outside in the sun, it’s a beautiful day.” Laszlo started to walk past her with his white stick.

“Okay!” Amy answered. As much as she wanted ice cream, she wondered who the stranger was. She just hoped that it would be a great surprise for Quentin. She closed the front doors behind them…

Act Two:

Tony went to the Collinsport Diner after his meeting with Quentin. Tony had offered to make his name change from Grant Douglas to Quentin Collins legal, and Quentin had agreed. But what Quentin told his family about his past was up to him. As Tony stopped to reflect on the meeting, just outside the diner's door, he shook his head with bemusement at the family's eccentricities and their talent for always being in some sort of trouble.

Stepping into the diner, he carried his briefcase with him to study some notes while he sat down for an early dinner. It was still early enough to be a quiet meal and avoid the dinner rush. Setting his briefcase on a table, he saw a man and a little girl sitting at a nearby table with ice cream sundaes.

"Boy, this is going to ruin my diet!" Laszlo gave a little laugh. Tony turned and looked at the man--he looked vaguely familiar.

"You shouldn't be on a diet!" Amy said between mouthfuls of ice cream, "You're skinny already!"

Tony recognized the girl as the young Jennings girl that was in Elizabeth Stoddard's care. "Amy? Amy Jennings?" he asked.

"Hi, Mr. Peterson!" Amy called, recognizing Tony from when he visited Mrs. Stoddard about her last will rewrite.

Tony walked over to their table, and turned to face the man with the dark glasses on. "Hi, I'm Tony Peterson." He held out his hand, but stopped dead in his tracks--not because he realized the man was blind--but because of who he thought he was...

Laszlo smiled in Tony direction. "Laszlo Ferrari..." he introduced himself as he put his spoon down and offered his hand.

Tony took his hand, but his own was shaking. He stared dumbfoundedly at Laszlo, as the realization of who he was washed over him like a tub of warm water. “Oh my God…” Tony stammered.

Laszlo smiled to himself, knowing what was coming…

“You’re Laszlo Ferrari… the Laszlo Ferrari!” Tony exclaimed. Suddenly, Tony turned into one of the fans from the “Ed Sullivan Show”. “I don’t believe it! Oh my God! I have all of your records! I just don’t believe it!”

“Um, Mr. Peterson… Tony… could you let go of my hand? I think you’re going to break bones!” Laszlo managed to extricate his hand from Tony’s grasp, and rubbed it.

“Mr. Laszlo… Mr. Ferrari, I’m such a fan of yours!” Tony gushed. “Do you think… if I ran home right now and got a record… I mean, would you be able to sign it?”

Amy stared in amazement at Laszlo, then up at Tony. She did not understand what the fuss was all about. Laszlo was just a normal pianist, as far as she was concerned. It was not like he was Jim Morrison, or Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel…

“Well, Tony,” Laszlo said, “I’m going to be in Collinsport for quite awhile, so why don’t you sit at our table with us and you can bring your records to Collinwood any time you’d like.”

“All right,” Tony said. He retrieved his briefcase and set it on a chair, and then sat beside them at their table. “I didn’t know you were staying at Collinwood…”

“For the time being,” Laszlo answered. “Say, Amy, why don’t you go up to the counter and order Mr. Peterson’s coffee, and…” he turned to Tony, “What were you having for food? Steak and baked potato?” he turned back to Amy. “Tell the waitress to put it on my bill.”

Amy went after taking another spoonful of her sundae, and Tony, still not believing he was actually seeing the real-life, honest-to-goodness Laszlo Ferrari in the flesh, said, “You don’t have to buy my food Mr. Ferrari, it’s enough to just sit here with you!”

“No problem,” Laszlo said. He pushed his ice cream bowl away and took out a cigarette and placed it on a cigarette holder.

“Let me light that for you,” Tony offered, fishing a lighter out of his pocket. As he lit the end of the cigarette, he asked, “So, tell me about everyone at Collinwood… I know Elizabeth Stoddard was taking her daughter Carolyn on a trip… Did you get to meet them before they left?”

Laszlo inhaled and blew out the smoke, then answered, “Oh yes, they were very nice. It was a shame I couldn’t spend more time with them. Maybe when they get back…”

“I haven’t seen Carolyn in a long time,” Tony said, maybe a little wistfully. “I heard she had gotten married, but I guess that wasn’t meant to be…”

From the tone of Tony Peterson’s voice, and the direction of the conversation, Laszlo guessed Carolyn was the real subject. “Carolyn Hawkes seemed like a lovely person, the little time I spent with her, but she did appear to be deep in mourning for her husband,” Laszlo told him.

“She and I dated a couple of years ago,” Tony replied quietly. “We sort of drifted apart… I guess she never really loved me…”

“You sound like a man still very much in love, to me.” Laszlo told him. Tony did not answer…

Act Three:

Quentin dragged himself home after his meeting with Tony. Even though he was unable to tell Tony Peterson the entire truth, he felt satisfied that once his name was legally changed, he could perhaps explain the situation to Elizabeth and Roger, in the meantime—he needed a drink.

He opened the Drawing Room doors and headed straight for the bar. Pouring himself a brandy, he went over to the piano and played a few notes. Hearing the sound of a man whistling a tune in reply out in the Great Hall, he smiled and called out: “Laszlo! Is that you?”

Quentin waited, but “Laszlo” did not reply. He stepped away from the piano and walked toward the double doors. “Laszlo? I thought I heard you out—“ Quentin stopped dead in his tracks. His brandy glass fell out of his hand and shattered on the floor.

Dameon Edwards briefly looked down at the mess, then beamed a brilliant smile up at the taller man. “Grant! It’s so nice to finally see you again!” Stepping over the broken glass and liquid on the floor, he pulled Quentin into a bearhug.

Quentin stood there, his arms hanging limply at his sides. In shock, he stammered: “Dameon… how did you…”

Dameon let Quentin go and smiled again. “Oh, how did I get in here? Your housekeeper, what was it—Mrs. Johnson—let me in. We’ve just been having the nicest conversation about you, Grant!”

Quentin turned towards the back, then glanced at Dameon. Finally coming to his senses, he grabbed Dameon by the arm, practically dragging him into the Drawing Room. Looking around the Great Hall, Quentin quickly shut the double doors.

Quentin turned to Dameon, scowling. “What are you doing here? You didn’t call me Grant to Mrs. Johnson, did you?!” he demanded.

Dameon grinned and patted Quentin on the cheek, then turned towards the liquor bar. “Don’t worry... ah, what was your new name again?” Dameon pretended to think about it. “Ah, yes! Quentin Collins! What a great name!” He turned to continue to peruse the liquor bar. “Don’t worry, Quentin! Your secret is safe with me! I didn’t mention Grant Douglas to Mrs. Johnson, or anyone else!”

Quentin grabbed Dameon by the shoulders and forcefully turned him around to face him. “Dameon…” Quentin growled, “I don’t want you in this house!”

Dameon’s expression became serious, and he even appeared to be a little hurt. “Now, Grant, is that any way to talk to an old friend? It would be a shame if I had to tell everyone here about an old mutual friend of ours—a very dear, departed friend—Frederick Thorn!”

Quentin’s face grew as pale-as-a-sheet as he stared at Dameon in shock…


Tony Peterson… JERRY LACY


Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY

Laszlo Ferrari… MICHAEL STROKA

Dameon Edwards… JERED HOLMES

Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
Reaction score
Rhode Island
Episode 995: Thorn In The Side

Fri. Apr. 17, 1970

Over the past few months, Quentin Collins has become an important part of the modern Collins family household… Helping them to defeat the Leviathans, Quentin is now in charge of the Collins Cannery while in their absence… However, an old friend has returned—someone who could ruin everything that Quentin has so carefully cultivated…

Quentin Collins grabbed Dameon Edwards by the shoulders and forcefully turned him around to face him. “Dameon…” Quentin growled, “I don’t want you in this house!”

Dameon’s expression became serious, and he even appeared to be a little hurt. “Now, Grant, is that any way to talk to an old friend? It would be a shame if I had to tell everyone here about a mutual friend of ours—a very dear, departed old friend—Frederick Thorn!”

Quentin’s face became as white-as-a-sheet as he looked at Dameon in shock. Dameon smiled to himself as he went over to the liquor bar and poured some brandy into a new glass. He handed it to Quentin, then poured himself some. Quentin stood there and gulped the brandy down.

“Remember our deal, Grant, that you would take care of Frederick, and then you would meet me in Montreal as soon as the deed was done?” Dameon said as he walked around Quentin towards the sofa. He sat down and crossed his legs, holding his brandy as he looked up at Quentin.

“I waited three months in Montreal for word from you!” Dameon exclaimed. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t exactly bored for three months—I had things to keep me occupied—But, three months Grant! Oh, how I worried! What if you had gotten arrested? What if you were dead? Or worse…” he leaned forward in his seat, “What if you had run out on me with all that money?” He raised his eyebrows and leaned back again.

Quentin crossed over to a chair and said nothing. He sat down and stared at Dameon. Finally, he said “Dameon, I meant to meet you in Montreal—really, I did. But, things happened… After I took care of things in Portland, I decided to come up to Collinsport for awhile—at least until things quieted down…”

Dameon shook his head. “For five months, Grant? I waited three in Montreal for you, then it took another two months to trace you here to Collinsport, what with your name change and all!”

“I’m sorry about that, Dameon, I swear I was going to contact you!” Quentin tried to explain. “Very soon after I got here, I was hit by a car! It really messed me up for awhile—I had amnesia for a month! Then, once I was introduced to my distant cousins, they needed my help against some enemies of theirs. Now, during the past couple of weeks, my cousin asked me to run the family business for awhile—“

Quentin was interrupted by a laughing Dameon. “Oh, Grant! Good-old Grant! Always ready with the stories and the excuses! What a tale you weave! Amnesia! Enemies! Long-lost cousins…”

Quentin frowned. “Every word is true!” he exclaimed. “It’s not a story, Dameon!”

Dameon just looked at him with bemusement. “I’d be inclined to believe you, Grant, but…” He looked around the Drawing Room. “It looks to me like you’ve found another golden opportunity for yourself!”

Quentin shook his head. “It isn’t like that at all! I genuinely care for these people!”

Dameon took another sip of brandy and leaned forward. “Like you cared for Frederick? Poor old guy—you were like a son to him! Not that I blame you for what you did! Frederick Thorn was a mean son of a—“

“Please don’t mention his name again!” Quentin snapped. “Especially in this house!” Tired of talking and trying to explain, Quentin finally came to a decision. “Look, Dameon, I’ll give you half the money, just like we promised before! You can even have the house in Portland—just leave me in peace!”

Dameon smiled and shook his head incredulously as he got up from the sofa and stepped over to where Quentin sat. “I don’t think so, Grant!” Dameon declared. “I might have been willing to make that deal before, but…” he looked up and gestured around the room, “Now that I’ve seen what you’ve got here, that’s not good enough anymore!”

Quentin looked up at him and pleaded with his eyes. “Don’t do this, Dameon! You’re going to ruin everything if you stick around… Please, just go!”

Dameon shook his head. “No, I think I like it here.” He held out a hand, but when Quentin did not take it, Dameon grasped him by the arm to try and pull him up. “Come, Grant—I’m sorry, Quentin… Let’s go find that nice Mrs. Johnson and ask her to fix up a room for me…” When Quentin refused to budge out of his seat, Dameon continued “Or, I could just shout Frederick’s name from the rooftops, and let the whole world know what we—sorry, what you did to him!”

Defeated, Quentin got up to follow Dameon. “That’s better,” Dameon told him. He handed Quentin the rest of his brandy to finish. Dameon then led Quentin out of the Drawing Room with an arm across his shoulder. “I know!” Dameon stopped and exclaimed. “Let’s have her fix up the room next to yours! It’ll be just like old times, at Frederick’s house…”

Act One:

Sabrina stopped by Chris’s cottage to bring him the moon poppy before heading to the Great House to help Amy with her studies. Finding no sign of Chris, Sabrina kissed the moon poppy good-bye and left it on a table with a note.

Walking up from the cottage, she could hear the piano being played through the open window of the Drawing Room. It stopped and started again as though someone were working on a composition. Sabrina waited for a pause before ringing the doorbell.

Amy opened the door. “Sabrina!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t know you were coming to visit!”

“I’m here to help you study!” Sabrina explained. She was surprised that Quentin had not told Amy.

“Oh,” Amy looked crestfallen. She had hoped that she could just skate by with Maggie out of town. The music on the piano started up again through the Drawing Room doors. “Laszlo is working on some new music, he said,” Amy gestured towards the doors.

Sabrina stepped into the Great Hall and listened. The tune was haunting, like from another place and time. “I’ve always wanted to meet Laszlo Ferrari,” she said.

“I’ll introduce you!” Amy said excitedly. She closed the front doors and ran to the Drawing Room. Bursting through double doors, she called out “Laszlo! Laszlo, we have a visitor!”

Laszlo continued to play for a few seconds, then stopped. He had a tape recorder sitting next to him on the bench that he used to record his compositions that he worked on. He shut it off and turned towards the sound of Amy’s voice. “A visitor? Who is it?”

“It’s just me,” Sabrina called from the doorway. “Sabrina Stuart. I’m here to help Amy with her studies. I hope you don’t mind the interruption, Mr. Ferrari.”

“Of course not,” Laszlo said graciously. “Miss Stuart, why don’t you and Amy sit and listen for awhile?”

“I would love to,” Sabrina said, embarrassed. “If you don’t mind…” Amy pulled Sabrina towards the sofa and the two sat and listened.

Meanwhile, Dameon and Quentin came downstairs from looking at Dameon’s new room in the West Wing, next to Quentin’s, of course… Hearing the music, Dameon stepped off the last step and looked over into the Drawing Room. “Who is that playing, Gra… Quentin?” Dameon asked.

Quentin saw Amy and Sabrina sitting in the Drawing Room, watching Laszlo play. Oh, how he wished he could get out of introductions right now! “That’s Laszlo Ferrari, he’s staying at Collinwood for awhile.”

Dameon turned and stared at Quentin with amazement. “Laszlo Ferrari? The world-famous pianist? Staying in this house?” he grinned and shook his head with admiration. “A huge mansion, all that wealth and power, and Laszlo Ferrari as a houseguest? No wonder you didn’t want to leave and come back to Montreal for me!”

“It’s not what you think!” Quentin snapped. “Mr. Ferrari is a paying boarder for one thing, and for another I haven’t touched the Collins money—I have Frederick’s inheritance, remember?” he hissed.

Dameon nodded, but he had known Grant Douglas for too many years to believe there were no ulterior motives. “If you say so, Gra… Quentin.” He smiled. “Now, are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Quentin narrowed his eyes and sighed loudly. “Fine! Let’s get this over with!” He turned and walked into the Drawing Room, with Dameon following closely behind him.

Amy turned away from Laszlo to see Quentin and Dameon entering the room. “It’s you!” she exclaimed. “The man from earlier! Who is he, Quentin?”

Dameon stood there and smiled his toothpaste smile as the music stopped, and Sabrina and Amy got up from the couch to meet “Quentin’s” friend…

Act Two:

The jukebox at the Blue Whale played a familiar, jaunty guitar solo as John Jaeger sat at a table, dejectedly drinking his second beer as he thought of Sabrina Stuart. He hoped that she was taking heed of his warnings to her. He had promised Angelique that he would not try to warn her again, but he found that he could not bear to spend the evening at home at the Old House, with thoughts of her demise still fresh in his mind…

Tony Peterson came into the Blue Whale after having his dinner at the Collinsport Diner, finding that he was not ready to retire at home, just yet. After ordering a beer at the bar, he saw another lone patron sitting at a table. It was still early enough in the evening that they were the only two there, unless someone was using the restroom…

“Mind if I join you?” Tony asked the blond man. He looked familiar to Tony. He was sure he had seen him around town before.

“Go ahead,” John tried to give a smile through his melancholy. “I could use the company.”

“Thanks,” Tony said. He pulled up a chair and sat across from John. “Tony Peterson. And you are?”

“Um… John Jaeger,” he held out his hand and shook Tony’s.

“Say, haven’t I seen you around town?” Tony asked, sipping at his beer.

“Maybe,” John answered. “I’ve been working for Angelique Rumson at the Old House on the Collins estate.”

“I see,” Tony nodded. He narrowed his eyes a little bit. “That’s a little strange, isn’t it? I thought Barnabas Collins owned that Old House?”

John shrugged. “Well, I’ve never met the guy, but Angelique told me he left the place to her when he went to England.” He took a swig of beer from his mug, emptying it and setting it back down. “I guess he isn’t coming back. Angelique says the place is in her name.”

“I’ve heard of this Angelique Rumson,” Tony said. “I’ll have to meet her sometime!” He downed half his beer.

“She’s a gorgeous woman,” John said. “I don’t know why she’s helped me so much, but I’m grateful.”

Tony nodded. He looked over towards the entrance when he saw out of the corner of his eye that someone had just come in. “Say, do you want another beer?” he asked John. “I’m buying…”

“Well, if you’re buying, I’m drinking!” John chuckled. He looked over and saw that Quentin had entered the Blue Whale.

Tony got up with his and John’s mugs to bring them back to get refilled. “So, we meet again!” Tony greeted Quentin as he set the mugs on the bar.

“Tony! I’m glad I ran into you!” Quentin exclaimed. He put an arm across Tony’s shoulders and led him away from the bar so that they would not be overheard.

“What is it?” Tony asked, noticing that Quentin looked more concerned now than he had looked earlier in Tony’s office. He glanced over at the table and saw that John was staring at them.

“I think I might have more problems than just Grant Douglas,” Quentin whispered loudly.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “More problems? Okay, Quentin, what’s happened now?” He led Quentin over away from both the bar and John’s table, close to the jukebox.

“Someone who knows all about my past. A real thorn in my side!” Quentin said dramatically…

Act Three:

Quentin came home to Collinwood late, after Sabrina had left, and Mrs. Johnson had put Amy to bed. He did not give Tony all of the details of his past in Portland, especially the details of Frederick Thorn’s demise, but he told him enough to let Tony know that he might have to confess to Roger and Elizabeth, or else leave town soon…

All but a few of the lights were off, and a single lamp lit the Great Hall. Quentin listened to his footsteps echo throughout. He hoped that he was alone for once. He was buzzed from drinking, and he hoped that the warm, carefree feeling would last.

However, Dameon was sitting in the Drawing Room, contemplating as he stared into the fire in the fireplace. Quentin started to turn around to go back towards the kitchen when he saw Dameon sitting there, but Dameon had heard Quentin’s footsteps out in the Great Hall.

Dameon turned and smiled. “Grant!” he called out. Quentin looked around nervously lest someone hear the name being said out loud. “Come in, I’ve waited up for you!” Dameon patted the seat next to him.

Quentin walked into the Drawing Room, but did not sit next to Dameon. He took a deep breath to fortify himself, having already decided what he wanted to say to him. “No thank you. Dameon, we have to talk, now!”

“Ohhh, you sound serious!” Dameon declared. He got up from the hearth-side seat and walked over to Quentin. “Yes, we do need to talk. We have to decide what to tell your family when they get back. You know, how I fit in, what our past is, how long we’ve known each other, etcetera, etcetera…”

Quentin shook his head. “No Dameon, you’re not going to be around when they get back.” Quentin tried very hard to be firm. “I’m going to give you half my inheritance from Frederick, and the house in Portland, and you’re going to leave Collinwood and never come here again. Do you understand?”

Dameon shook his head and patted Quentin on the cheek, roughly. He walked past him towards the liquor bar. “No, I have a better idea. I think we’ll introduce me as your best friend since our college days in… how about the University of Portland? We haven’t seen each other in years, and we need plenty of time to catch up…”

Quentin felt fed up by this point. “Dameon… You’re not listening to me!”

Dameon turned back to Quentin. “I’ve always listened to you, Grant,” he looked sympathetically at him. “All those years when Frederick abused you—shouted at you, hit you, made you feel like a bum… But you stayed, just like I did. You enjoyed all the trappings that money could buy—the big house, maybe not as big as this one—the parties, the drugs, all those expensive clothes…”

Quentin started to protest, but Dameon continued. “And now you’ve found another pie—Collinwood—and I want a piece of it! I mean it, Grant, I’ll tell everyone what you did if you don’t let me in on this!”

Quentin had had enough. He grabbed Dameon roughly by the lapels and pulled him towards him. He could see fear in Dameon’s eyes. “Dameon, if you tell anyone one word—one solitary word about what we did to Frederick Thorn—I’ll kill you! I mean it, Dameon, I will kill you with my bare hands!”

Dameon chuckled nervously. He pulled at Quentin’s hands, but they grasped his jacket’s lapels too tightly. “If you do that, Grant, you’ll be arrested immediately for double murder!” Quentin loosened his grip, and Dameon pulled his lapels away. He straightened out his jacket as he stepped away from Quentin. “You see, I knew it would come to this… I knew that you’d start in with the threats as soon as you felt cornered. I’ve known you for far too long.” Dameon turned away and continued. “I have a friend out there—a friend who knows all our dirty little secrets…” he paused, and looked over at Quentin. “Well, maybe not ALL of them, but enough to put you away for good. My friend has my old diary, plus a signed confession in my part of Frederick’s death. If something happens to me, my friend is going to go straight to the police—and you’ll go to prison for life.”

Quentin stared at Dameon, a sinking feeling overcoming him as he realized his whole world could come crashing down around him at any moment. “You bastard,” he whispered.

Dameon smirked. “You’re still a pretty man, Grant. I swear you haven’t aged at all in the last fifteen years. You look younger than me, now,” Dameon said, a little enviously. “You know as well as I do that pretty men don’t have an easy time of it in prison.”

“You wouldn’t either,” Quentin answered bitterly. He could not think of a way out now. Maybe he should leave Collinwood forever.

“Why don’t we sleep on it tonight, and tomorrow we can decide if I stay for good, or if you go to prison,” Dameon smiled up at Quentin. “Good night… Quentin!” He kissed Quentin on the cheek and started up the stairs in the Great Hall. He paused halfway up. “Oh! If you need me, I’ll be in next room!” He chuckled and continued on his way.

Quentin just looked dejected and stared up at Dameon as he made his way upstairs. So preoccupied was Quentin, that he did not see Laszlo standing in the doorway under the balcony, listening in on his and Dameon's conversation…


Tony Peterson… JERRY LACY


Sabrina Stuart… LISA RICHARDS

Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY


Laszlo Ferrari… MICHAEL STROKA

Dameon Edwards… JERED HOLMES

Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
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Episode 996: The New Waitress

Mon. Apr. 20, 1970

Of all the changes that have happened since he first came back to Collinsport, the biggest change Quentin Collins has seen is at Collinwood… With most of the modern Collins family away, Quentin has been left in charge… But Quentin’s newfound responsibilities came at a price—a price that weighs on Quentin as he escapes to the Blue Whale, yet again…

Quentin stayed at the Collins Cannery as late as he could, not wanting to return home and face Dameon Edwards, for the second evening in a row. As he made his way into the bar, Quentin could hear the jukebox playing a loud California Rock instrumental from outside.

As soon as he walked into the crowded bar, Quentin’s eyes were immediately drawn to the pretty blonde pouring drinks behind the counter. Her curly hair was pulled back from her face with loose curls falling down around it. She was wearing a tight, low-cut blue dress.

The waitress smiled at him as he came in, and Quentin felt himself smile back. She sort of reminded Quentin of a younger version of Angelique. The waitress poured a dark-haired man sitting at the bar a drink. The man grabbed her hand and grinned lasciviously.

Quentin started to go towards the bar, intending to step in and help the young woman, but the young woman smiled at the dark-haired man and poured a little bit of his drink onto his lap. As the man jumped back and scowled, Quentin could hear the waitress say “Oops! Sorry!” as she grinned and turned away.

Quentin shook his head and smiled to himself, and found a table in the corner where he could watch the crowd and wait for Angelique to arrive. He had called her earlier from Roger’s office to come and meet him here this evening.

The pretty blonde waitress smiled as she came towards his table to take his order. “Can I get you something?” she asked pleasantly.

“I guess I’ll have a light beer in a glass,” Quentin answered. “Say, I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before. You’re a lot prettier than Bob, I think I would have noticed you!”

The waitress grinned. “I just started. My name’s Buffie.” She extended a hand out to Quentin.

“Quentin, Quentin Collins…” he smiled up at her and held her hand a little bit longer than he should.

Buffie stared at him. “Did you say Quentin… COLLINS?” She withdrew her hand and her eyes grew wide with surprise.

Quentin was puzzled. “Yeah, Quentin Collins. Is there something wrong?”

Buffie’s face went back to her previous cheerfulness. “Oh! No, nothing’s wrong!” she exclaimed. “I was just surprised because… you know, COLLINS-port? The COLLINS Cannery?”

Quentin chuckled. “All right, all right. As you can see, I’m human, just like everyone else!”

Buffie nodded. “Yes, I do see… now. I’ll get your beer.” She turned around to head back to the bar. As she went, she quickly glanced back at Quentin, a confused look on her face…

Act One:

Angelique drove John into the village that evening. She would not tell him where they were going, or why. She had only said it was a surprise. When she parked her car on Main Street, John wondered if they were maybe going out for dinner, but there was nothing in the way of fancy dining in the middle of Collinsport. As they got out of her car, Angelique motioned towards an empty storefront with a For Sale sign. “What are you up to now, Angelique?” John smiled at the blonde witch.

“You’ll see,” she answered. That was all she would say. Stepping around to the side of the empty store, she reached into a large urn with a big, overgrown plant in it and produced a key. Holding the key up, she walked over to the front door and opened it with the key.

John followed Angelique into the dusty, abandoned bookstore. “What are we doing here?” he asked. The dust in the room was causing him to sneeze. He let out a loud one.

Angelique switched on her flashlight that she had brought in from the car. She shone the light around the room. In between bookshelves was a dusty old chair with a small table next to it. A magazine rack with magazines from what looked like 1968 dated on them shone in the spotlight. “How do you like it?” Angelique asked him. She ran her hand on the counter where the cash register off, looked at it, and then wiped it off on her coat.

John walked through beams of moonlight that shone through the boards in the windows. “It’s okay, I guess…” he looked at some of the books on the shelves, barely able to read them in the dim light, then looked back at Angelique. “Why do you ask? What’s going on?”

“I’ve decided to open up a shop, here,” Angelique explained. “A tea shop, perhaps. I would like you to help run it for me…”

Another job?” John asked incredulously. “In addition to my handyman work?”

“Once the Old House is finished, I won’t be needing you there anymore,” Angelique told him. She walked over to a side door and opened it. “There’s supposed to be an apartment upstairs…” She turned and looked at John. “You could live above the store.”

John narrowed his eyes. “I thought I was going to be living with you! What’s going on, Angelique? Why are you trying to get me out of the house?”

She stared at him for a moment. “It was never supposed to be a permanent situation…” Angelique told him. “Besides, once the house is finished, I plan to marry in a couple of months,.”

“Marry!” John exclaimed. He thought about it for a moment. “To Quentin?” he asked bitterly. Angelique did not answer, so John knew that he guessed right. “What if I don’t want to live here, and run this ‘store’ for you? I have a past, you know!” John walked over to Angelique and took her by the shoulders. “I could leave Collinsport any time!”

Angelique pulled away from him and turned away. “Then leave!” she snapped. “I was only trying to help…”

John shook his head. “Thanks. But as soon as the house is finished, I’m leaving town!”

“All right!” Angelique nodded, still looking away from him. What John could not see at that moment was the doubt forming in Angelique’s eyes…

Act Two:

After Angelique showed John the empty store, she let him drive her car home so that she could meet Quentin at the Blue Whale. Once she arrived and sat with Quentin, the dark-haired man at the bar stared at her.

The waitress, Buffie, noticed him staring at the other woman as she made her way towards the payphone. She pulled out a piece of paper and a dime and made her phone call. After the other person answered, she said “A woman just came in and sat with him… Blonde with great big baby blues… Are you sure?” Buffie paused and listened. “All right, I just think it’s kind of cruel… I understand… I’ll keep you posted…”

Buffie hung up the phone and looked over at Quentin and Angelique. She looked back at the bar and noticed the dark-haired man was still looking at them, in particular, at Angelique. She took a deep breath and sauntered over to the leering man.

“Hi there!” she said to him. He looked at her with surprise. “Steve, was it?”

“Yeah…” he nodded, wondering what she wanted, after turning him down earlier.

“I’ve got a job for you, if you’re interested…” she explained. She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close. She whispered something in his ear, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head as he listened. Steve looked back at Angelique and nodded…

Meanwhile, Tony Peterson arrived at the Blue Whale to see Quentin, wanting to ask him a couple of questions about his case. Scanning the room, he saw Quentin and Angelique holding hands at a table. He smiled, and made his way over to him.

“Hello, Quentin!” Tony greeted from behind Angelique. Angelique saw him, but quickly turned her head so that he could not see her face. “Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to talk to you about the matter we discussed earlier.

Quentin looked at Angelique concernedly, so Angelique said “Don’t worry, Quentin, I’ll just go to Brewster’s. They’re open late.”

“Are you sure, Angelique?” he looked relieved.

Tony smiled at her. “I swear I won’t keep him long.” Angelique smiled back, but looked down.

As she left, Tony turned to see her leave, he got a sense of deja vu. He turned back to Quentin. “Angelique, was it?” Quentin nodded. “I swear I’ve met her somewhere, before…” Tony told him.

“I’m sure you’ve seen her around town,” Quentin waved his hand dismissively. “She was married to Sky Rumson, the business tycoon. She owns Little Windward Island…”

“Of course, I had heard of her, but I was sure I’ve never seen her before…” Tony said. “Anyway, I’ve looked into changing your name officially to Quentin Collins…”

“Tony,” Quentin interrupted. “There’s something more pressing we need to take care of right now. I didn’t want to go over it on the phone. While I’m still Grant Douglas, I need to take care of Mister Dameon Edwards—the man I told you about last night…”

Act Three:

“I need to sign the deed to my property in Portland over to him, as well as seventy-five percent of my inheritance from Frederick Thorn,” Quentin explained.

Tony was shocked. “Seventy-five percent! Quentin, are you sure you want to do this?” Tony was concerned. He leaned forward and spoke in a loud whisper. “Is he blackmailing you, Quentin?”

Quentin looked down and did not answer…

On the other side of the room, Buffie went over to the pay phone and made another phone call. After someone picked up on the other end, she spoke. “Hi, it’s me again… I found someone to do the job… Yeah, he’s a real winner… Hopefully, all will go to plan…”

Buffie hung up the phone, but she looked concerned, as she watched Quentin and Tony speaking in hushed tones at their table…

Across town, Angelique left Brewster’s carrying a shopping bag. As she made her way back to the Blue Whale, she passed an alley. A fog had poured in, and she could hear the foghorns of the boats out in Collinsport Harbor, lending the night a melancholy, but peaceful quality. The foggy reverie was interrupted by the clatter of a metal trashcan in the alley.

Startled, Angelique turned and looked, wondering if it was a lonely cat. As she stepped to investigate, a shadow loomed against the brick walls of the building through the fog. A dark-haired man grabbed her from behind and dragged her, kicking and struggling into the alley far away from the main street. She dropped her purse and shopping bag onto the cobble-stoned ground.

Angelique managed to turn around and saw it was the man who had been staring at her from the bar at the Blue Whale. “Hey baby, don’t struggle,” Steve scolded. “Why don’t we go back to my place and have a good time?” he stroked her face as she cringed.

“No” she shouted. “Don’t touch me!” She drew back her hand and slapped his face, hard.

As Steve rubbed his face, Angelique started to run away, but he rushed forward and grabbed her by the arm. “Okay, sweetheart! We’ll have to do this the hard way!” With his other hand, he slapped her so hard that she fell with a loud CLATTER against some trashcans.

As she lay there in a daze, Steve squatted down on top of her and began to undo her coat and dress. “Nice… very nice,” Steve murmured. He began to undo his belt buckle. Angelique groaned and touched the back of her head as she felt a knot beginning to form.

“What’s going on back there?” a man’s voice loomed from the street. Angelique screamed.

“Damn!” Steve got off of Angelique, and started to run past John, who started to go after him, but Steve shoved him away.

John gave up the chase, and went back to Angelique. He knelt down on the cobblestones next to her and sat her up against his chest. “It’s all right…” he held the trembling woman tight, as she cried with relief…


Tony Peterson… JERRY LACY

Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY

Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER


Buffie Harrington… ELIZABETH EIS

Steve the Bar Patron… GEORGE STRUS

Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
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Episode 997: Deception

Tue. Apr. 21, 1970

A night of violence in the village of Collinsport... As Quentin Collins waits at the Blue Whale for Angelique Rumson, he is unaware that she is not returning... For Angelique has been attacked by a violent man... A man who returns to the Blue Whale for his reward…

Buffie Harrington walked around the bar, wiping the tables while there was a lull in customers. She felt nervous, waiting for any news that Steve would bring back with him. She paused and spoke to Quentin. "Still waiting for your girlfriend?" she asked.

Quentin blushed. "We're actually very old, dear friends... It's strange she isn't back yet. Brewster's must have closed an hour ago."

"Why don't you call and see if she went home?" Buffie suggested.

"She doesn't have a phone... yet." Quentin explained.

Buffie nodded, and turned towards the door when someone burst into the bar. It was the man named Steve, whom she had spoken to earlier. "Excuse me," she told Quentin, her smile turning into a frown as she went to talk to Steve, who was waiting impatiently at the bar.

"What are you doing back so soon?" Buffie hissed. "You can't be done already!"

Steve looked flushed, one of his cheeks was redder than the other, as though he had been slapped. "We were interrupted!" he said.

Buffie glanced over at Quentin and hushed Steve. "You mean you didn't finish the job?" she demanded.

"I managed to rough her up a bit, but that's it," Steve said in a much lower tone.

"Well, that wasn't our deal!" Buffie whispered loudly. "You were supposed to do a lot more than just rough her up!"

"Are you going to pay me, or not?" Steve demanded. "I need to get out of here in case that guy shows up!"

Buffie shook her head. "No, that wasn't good enough. I'm not giving you fifty dollars!" Buffie glanced across the room and saw that Quentin was staring at them.

"I'm telling you, the lady is scared!" Steve growled back. “I had her lying on the ground in an alley—I was all set to finish the job when this guy comes rushing in to play hero!

Buffie frowned and shook her head again. “Well, scared isn’t good enough! You know what I wanted you to do to her, and you failed!” She started to walk away, but Steve reached across the bar and grabbed her arm, squeezing it roughly. "Let go of me, you're hurting me!" she exclaimed, trying to pry his fingers off of her arm.

"Listen, you slut! I'm going to hurt you a lot more if you don't pay the money you promised me!" Steve threatened.

Buffie struggled against Steve's grip on her arm. "No!"

"Let the lady go!" a man's voice bellowed.

Steve turned and had to look up at the tall Quentin standing with a glowering expression on his face…

Act One:

Steve let go, and Buffie rubbed her arm. "Quentin, it's okay!” she exclaimed. “You don't have to rescue me..."

Steve smirked. "You heard the lady--get lost!" He poked Quentin in the chest.

Calmly, Quentin reached over and grabbed Steve by the collar. "Listen here, you dirt-bag! You have ten seconds to get out of here, or I'll throw you out!"

Steve held up his hands. "All right, all right! I'm going!" Quentin let go of Steve's collar and stood back. Steve smiled and straightened out his shirt. He turned around, but instead of heading towards the door, he grabbed the nearest empty beer bottle and smashed it on the counter.

Buffie screamed. "Quentin, look out!" She started to reach for the bar phone, ready to call the police.

"Come on, let's go!" Steve motioned, holding up the broken bottle threateningly. Quentin came towards Steve, and the fiend swiped at him with the broken bottle. The edge of the broken glass managed to graze Quentin's face, but Quentin knew his portrait would take care of the scar. He punched Steve in the stomach, making him drop the bottle as he groaned and clutched at his mid-section.

Quentin grinned and turned to Buffie. "I don't think we'll need the police."

Buffie only had the receiver halfway up at this point, and started to put the phone down again. "Okay, Quentin--that's enough..."

Quentin shook his head. "Not quite." He grabbed Steve by the collar with one hand, and the hair with the other, forcing him to his feet. Dragging him across the room, he let go of Steve's hair to open the front door and forcibly push him out into the street.

Quentin shut the door behind him. "I think that takes care of things," he said, brushing his hands.

Buffie just stared at him. "I can't believe you just did that, especially for me! Thank you," Buffie said, honestly grateful to him. If he only knew what she was responsible for!

Quentin smirked and grabbed a napkin, dabbing at his bleeding cheek. He knew that it would not continue to bleed for long. "I would have done that for anyone in distress!”

Quentin turned and looked out the window. “I don't think he'll be back..." he told her. "I'm going to go use the restroom, then I have to go and find Angelique. I can't think what's happened to her..."

Buffie looked down, feeling a little guilty. "Thanks again!" she told him. He nodded and went back to the restroom. Just then, the phone rang.

"Hello, Blue Whale... Oh, hello... Yes, he did come back... He said he managed to 'rough her up', as he put it... Yes, that's all... He said someone helped her get away..." Buffie paused. "Quentin just kicked him out. When I wouldn't pay him for an unfinished job, he started to get rough, so Quentin beat him up..." She turned towards the back to where Quentin had gone. "I have to say, he doesn't seem to be at all like how you described..."

Act Two:

John drove Angelique home to the Old House after the ordeal in the alley. He helped her up the stairs and sat in a chair next to Angelique's bed all night, watching her until he dozed off.

By the time morning came, John decided that he was going to take Angelique up on her offer of running the shop, whatever kind of shop it might turn out to be. He knew after she was attacked that she meant too much to him to just leave town like he had told her in the abandoned shop last night...

Since Angelique still had the key, and Mrs. Minnie Duval needed to be notified that they were taking the building, John and Angelique decided that he would be the one to tell the landlady in person.

Minnie Duval lived in an old Victorian-style house at the edge of Collinsport. When John reached the address, he noticed that the yard was in a sorry state. John knocked on the front door, looking at the overgrown flower beds filled with weeds and wildflowers. The bushes were so high that they covered the first floor windows. He wondered who or what would be on the other side of the door...

After a little while of no one answering, John knocked again, looking to see if he perhaps had missed a doorbell. He heard a woman's voice yell out "Just a minute! Hold your horses out there!" The door flung open, and there stood Mrs. Minnie Duval. She was a middle-aged woman with gray hair and pale eyes. She was wearing a purple dressing gown. "Yes? What do you want?" she demanded.

John gulped. "The name's John Jaeger." He held up the store building key. "I'm here to return this, and to let you know that Angelique Rumson and I want to buy your building." He stood and waited.

Minnie stared at him. "Is that so? Well... come in, come in!" she turned around and went towards the parlor. "Shut the door!" she called behind her, "I don't want the cats to get out!"

John quickly shut the door behind him and looked around. The house was incredibly dusty and full of cat hair. It looked like there was a cat on every surface. "What am I getting myself into!" he muttered to himself.

“Have a seat!” Minnie motioned to a chair. She was opening a bottle of champagne.

John looked, but there was a cat sleeping in the middle of the armchair. He found a place on the couch and moved a cat-furry blanket aside to sit.

“Would you like a drink?” Minnie asked. She was pouring the champagne into juice glasses.

“Uh… no thanks!” John said. It seemed a little early in the day to already be drinking.

“Young man, I insist that you have a drink with me!” Minnie exclaimed, waving the bottle in the air. “We have to celebrate the sale!”

“The sale?” John was confused. She thrust a glass of champagne in his face, and he took it from her.

“Yes, to the new owners of my building!” Minnie toasted. She held up her juice glass and clinked it to his as she sat down on a cat.

Dumbfounded, John brought the glass of champagne up to his lips and gulped…

Act Three:

When Sabrina Stuart got up that morning, she realized the day was finally here—the day of the full moon. She also realized she had not seen Chris in an entire week. Deciding she still had plenty of time before work, she hurried to drive over to Collinwood to see Chris before her day at the library.

However, once she arrived at the caretaker’s cottage, it was just as dark and empty as it had been the day before when she brought the moon poppy over and set it on the table. The moon poppy still sat there, ready to fully bloom that evening. Sabrina caressed the plant, and then looked around the cottage for any sign of a note. Finding none, she decided to pay a visit to Collinwood…

Quentin was ready to head out the front doors of the Great House to go to the cannery, when he heard the doorbell ring. Opening the doors, he was surprised to see Sabrina Stuart standing there. "Sabrina!" he exclaimed. "Good morning!"

Sabrina looked worried. "Quentin, have you seen Chris? I just went to the caretaker's cottage and he wasn't there! I haven't seen him at all this week!"

Quentin shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sabrina, but I haven't. There's been a lot going on around here, lately." He looked towards the upstairs, where Dameon was no doubt still sleeping.

Sabrina stepped into the Great Hall and wrung her hands. "It's a full moon tonight, Quentin! I left him another moon poppy that someone gave to me... I just checked—the moon poppy is still sitting in the cottage, but I don't know where Chris is..."

Quentin thought for a moment. "Maybe he decided to go to his cabin up in the mountains, in preparation for the full moon?"

Sabrina looked frantic. "Oh no, Quentin! If he already left without seeing the poppy, he’ll turn into that creature tonight! He needs that moon poppy, Quentin! We've got to get it to him before it's too late!"

Quentin put his hands up on her shoulders. “Don’t worry, Sabrina! I’ll get off work early at the cannery, and I’ll come and get the moon poppy to bring to Chris… All before nightfall!”

“Are you sure, Quentin?” worried Sabrina. “I’ll try to leave the library early, myself… I’ll try to come up with some excuse for Mr. Gladstone!”

Quentin shook his head. “No, no I don’t think that’s a good idea! I think it had better be me—just in case… Well, you know…”

Sabrina sighed and nodded. “All right, whatever you say.” She stared up at Quentin with her big brown eyes. “Please, Quentin—be careful! And good-luck!” She kissed him on the cheek and went out the front doors, leaving Quentin in the dim light of the morning foyer.

Quentin stood and thought of all that had been happening lately. He felt guilty that for all his own problems, he had been ignoring Chris and his predicament. Quentin was sure that Chris had gone up to the cabin to stay away from other people during the full moon. “Chris probably thought he had no choice, but to leave!” Quentin said out loud. “Don’t worry, Sabrina! I won’t let Chris down—I’ll get that moon poppy to him—before moonrise!”


Sabrina Stuart… LISA RICHARDS

Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY


Buffie Harrington… ELIZABETH EIS


Steve the Bar Patron… GEORGE STRUS

Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
Reaction score
Rhode Island
Episode 998: Ode To Angelique

Wed. Apr. 22, 1970

A solemn morning at the Old House... for Angelique Rumson was attacked last night in the village... John Jaeger returns to bring Angelique good news, but a sense of foreboding dampens his spirits... for John knows that tonight is the night of the full moon...

John managed to drive back from Mrs. Duval's home relatively unscathed. He was glad for Angelique that the store building was now theirs, but the knowledge of what night it was lay heavy on his soul...

Angelique was waiting for him in the drawing room of the Old House, staring at the fire, drinking her special tea. "Oh Master," she proclaimed. "Please punish he that tried to do me harm last night! Let he who dared to try and defile me suffer tenfold what I have suffered at his hands!" Angelique gasped, and her eyes widened when the fire in the fireplace grew, as if acknowledging what she said.

Angelique turned away from the fireplace. She hoped that now she had sent out her wish, that she would have the news soon that it would be fulfilled. The front door opened, and John entered the Old House. He smiled when he saw her, but Angelique could see that he was troubled. "Well," he began, "Mrs. Duval agreed. You are the proud owner of the store building at 131 Main Street!"

Angelique got up. "You don't seem very happy about that... Are you sure you want to be my manager?" She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Or is it the fact that tonight is the night of the full moon?" Angelique's eyes narrowed as he turned away from her. Angelique turned his head back to her and looked into his sad eyes. "I told you to forget about Sabrina Stuart... What will happen WILL happen!"

John nodded, but he did not want to admit defeat, yet. “I don’t know why I keep having these premonitions, but I feel like they won’t stop until either Sabrina dies—or I stop it from happening!”

Angelique looked back towards the fireplace. “Perhaps you are indeed psychic…” She turned to John again. “Come into the drawing room with me—I want to try an experiment…”

John followed Angelique, and she motioned to the chair next to the fireplace. She knelt down in front of him after he sat, and pulled a scarf from out of her pocket. It was the one she had worn the night before—when she was attacked.

John looked at the scarf as she handed it to him. “What’s this for?” he asked, puzzled. He felt it between his fingers.

Angelique looked up at him. “I just want you to hold that scarf, and at the same time, I want you to stare at the fire. Just stare at it, and don’t look away. Don’t even blink—if you can…”

He nodded. “All right, whatever you say…” He looked into the fire and stared.

“Try to push all other thoughts out of your mind,” Angelique instructed. “Just look at the fire, and let me know what form takes place inside the flames…”

The fire reflected in John’s light blue eyes. “I see you, Angelique, and fear… There’s a man… A man with dark brown hair… His mind is full of violence, and sadness… He tries to calm his mind with his vices…”

“That’s it,” Angelique hissed. She grasped John’s hand and concentrated all of her hatred towards the man…

Act One:

At lunchtime, Angelique went to Collinwood to visit Laszlo Ferrari. After ringing the doorbell, she was surprised when it was Dameon Edwards who answered the door, although she realized she should not be, as Quentin had told her the evening before that an old friend from Portland was visiting him at Collinwood.

"Hello," Dameon said pleasantly. He admired the pretty blonde with her swept back up-do and melon-colored sleeveless dress.

"Hello!" Angelique was delighted that yet another handsome man was inhabiting Collinwood now. "You must be Quentin's friend... was it Dameon..."

"Edwards," he answered. "At your service..." he held her right hand and leaned down to kiss it. "And who might you be?"

"Angelique Rumson..." Angelique answered, "Quentin and I are very special friends."

A slight shadow passed over Dameon's face as he straightened his back, but it passed just as quickly as it came. "Angelique... what a lovely name..."

"Thank you. Is Laszlo in? I was supposed to meet him for lunch?" Angelique looked past Dameon.

"Why, of course! I should have know that you would be a friend of Mr. Ferrari, as well!" Dameon exclaimed. He looked back towards the Drawing Room. "He's waiting in there. Please, go in... I just wanted to make a phone call."

"Thank you," Angelique told him. "I hope you will join us... Dameon." She smiled back at him.

"Of course!" Dameon agreed. "Tell Laszlo I'll only be a few minutes..."

As soon as Angelique went into the Drawing Room, and closed the double doors behind her, Dameon was on the phone. After someone on the other end picked up, Dameon said: "I just saw Quentin's friend... I must say I'm disappointed, very disappointed..."

His handsome face suddenly became very ugly. "I thought she would at least look like she'd been through the wringer... There's not even a bruise on her!" Dameon looked towards the Drawing Room. "We'll have to think of another idea to get rid of her! We need Quentin all to ourselves..."

After he finished his phone call, Dameon turned towards the Drawing Room and gave a little knock before he entered. He managed to put on his most convincing smile of friendliness before entering the room.

Angelique and Laszlo were seated together at the sofa. A tray of finger sandwiches lay on the coffee table alongside a pitcher of lemonade. Angelique smiled up at Dameon, but Laszlo barely managed one, as he had not forgotten the conversation between Quentin and Dameon the other night…

“Laszlo has just told me he has something ‘special’ planned for us after lunch!” Angelique exclaimed to Dameon.

“Angelique…” protested Laszlo. He did not particularly like Dameon, as he knew how fake he really was.

“Ooh! Something special!” said Dameon as he sat down on a chair to grab a sandwich. “I can hardly wait…” He glanced at Angelique, hiding the hatred he felt for her behind his grin…

Act Two:

Quentin came home to Collinwood at lunchtime. He planned to go retrieve the moon poppy and take it up to Chris's cabin in the mountains before moonrise.

However, as soon as Quentin stepped through the door, a lunch party was going on in the Drawing Room. “Gr…. Great! Quentin’s here to join us!” Dameon exclaimed from his seat, before Quentin could head towards the study before anyone saw him.

“Quentin!” Angelique called. She got up from the sofa and hurried to grab him by the arm. “Laszlo said he has a surprise for us! Why don’t you come and join us?” Quentin looked at the grandfather clock, and then Angelique—and Quentin found himself invited whether he liked it or not.

“Hi, Laszlo!” Quentin greeted the blind man. “What lovely surprise do you have for us, this afternoon?” He gave Angelique a little smile, but tried to avoid Dameon’s glare.

“Well, as you’ve no doubt heard over the past week, Quentin,” Laszlo said nervously, “I’ve been practicing out a new composition… I would like all of you—especially my new dear friend, Angelique—to hear it…” Laszlo made his way to the piano with his white stick and sat down.

As Laszlo played the haunting, otherworldly song, Quentin and Angelique, who were standing next to each other, found themselves staring into each other eyes. Quentin smiled at Angelique and leaned in for a romantic kiss. Dameon watched the two lovers with barely concealed hate and anger simmering below his handsome face.

After he was done playing the melody, Laszlo turned towards the clapping audience. “Thank you,” he said, giving a shy little bow. “I call my new composition, “Ode to Angelique.” Angelique flushed, not sure what to say for probably the first time in her life. Quentin grinned and gave her a little sideways hug. "You don't know how much you've helped me, Angelique," Laszlo told her. "I'm ready to start a new life because of your friendship and support.

The phone suddenly rang in the Great Hall. Disgusted by the display, Dameon was all too glad to leave the Drawing Room to answer the phone. “Hello? Collinwood…” Dameon answered.

It was Sabrina calling from the library. “Hello, this is Miss Stuart calling from Collinsport University Library. Has Quentin Collins been home?”

Dameon looked disgusted back at the Drawing Room. “He’s having a little party with friends right now. Did you want to speak to him?”

"You mean, he's still at the house?!" Sabrina exclaimed incredulously. She looked at the time. She felt like Quentin should have left for the poppy by now.

"Yes, of course!" Dameon answered, a little puzzled by her tone.

"I-I have to go!" Sabrina stammered. She quickly hung up the phone and scanned the library for Mr. Gladstone. She would come up with some excuse. Chris was more important than anything else. Apparently, Quentin did not care as much as she did. "Oh, Chris!" she said out loud to herself. "I've got to help you... myself!"

Act Three:

John paced the Old House while Angelique was gone. He knew that his premonitions were true. Angelique believed him to be psychic, after all. So, if he was a psychic, then he should use his abilities to help people—not sit back and wait and do nothing!

John nodded to himself. “It’s my duty—I have to help people! I just have to…” He called Collinsport University Library from Angelique's newly installed phone in the foyer of the Old House. After inquiring after Sabrina, Mr. Gladstone informed him that she had already left for the day.

John suddenly got the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he would never see Miss Stuart alive, ever again. Looking around the foyer of the Old House anxiously, he realized he would have to quell his fears about going into the Great House and find Quentin. He was not exactly Quentin Collins' biggest fan, but maybe Quentin would know how to find her.

John hurried down the path to Collinwood, and stopped when he saw the big mansion looming in front of him. "What is it about this place..." he murmured. "Have I been here before?" John closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. That first day—the day he brought Laszlo to Collinwood—he had felt such overwhelming fear. The fear caused him to run to the Old House, and meet Angelique. WAS he a stranger to residents of Collinwood? Could he possibly be the Jebez Hawkes that people thought he was?

John shook his head and slapped his cheeks. It was not important right now, only Sabrina Stuart was! He took a deep breath and marched right up to the front doors.

After bidding a hasty good-bye to Angelique, Dameon and Laszlo, Quentin closed the Drawing Room doors behind him and looked at the time on the Grandfather clock. He still had time to go to the caretaker’s cottage and finally retrieve the poppy.

There was a knock on the front doors. Quentin answered, and he looked on in amazement to see John Jaeger standing on his doorstep. "John! Come in!" He stood back and motioned into the foyer.

John looked around nervously and stepped inside. Before Quentin could get a word in, John bursted out "We've got to help Sabrina!"

Quentin was surprised. "What about Sabrina?" he asked, after some hesitation.

"This is the night!" John cried out. "That creature... it looks like a wolf, but it walks like a man!" John looked quite insane at this point. "It's going to kill her, Quentin... Tonight!"

Quentin stood there in shock, his mouth slightly open...

Meanwhile, Sabrina hurried from the library to Collinwood, stopping near the cottage so that she could hurry inside and retrieve the moon poppy. It was still sitting there, untouched. “Oh, Quentin!” Sabrina cried out loud with dismay. “You lied when you said you’d help…”

She picked up the poppy and held it in her arms. “It’s going to work this time…” Sabrina looked up. “Please God, please let it work this time!”

Sabrina hurried out of the cottage with the moon poppy. Getting in her car, she sped away from Collinwood, intending to save the man she loved no matter what the cost…


Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER

Sabrina Stuart… LISA RICHARDS

Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY


Laszlo Ferrari… MICHAEL STROKA

Dameon Edwards… JERED HOLMES

Victor Winters

Telly Talk Member
Reaction score
Rhode Island
Episode 999: Full Moon

Thu. Apr. 23, 1970

The night of the full moon… This will be a night that will change many lives on the Grand Estate of Collinwood… Premonitions of death have brought John Jaeger to the Great House… His last hope is that Quentin Collins will heed his forebodings of doom…

After bidding a hasty good-bye to Angelique, Dameon and Laszlo, Quentin closed the Drawing Room doors behind him and looked at the time on the Grandfather clock. He still had time to go to the caretaker’s cottage and finally retrieve the poppy.

There was a knock on the front doors. Quentin answered, and he looked on in amazement to see John Jaeger standing on his doorstep. "John! Come in!" He stood back and motioned into the foyer.

John looked around nervously and stepped inside. Before Quentin could get a word in, John bursted out "We've got to help Sabrina!"

Quentin was surprised. "What about Sabrina?" he asked, after some hesitation.

"This is the night!" John cried out. "That creature... it looks like a wolf, but it walks like a man!" John looked quite insane at this point. "It's going to kill her, Quentin... Tonight!"

Quentin stood there in shock, his mouth slightly open. “I think you’d better go back to the Old House, John.”

While the two men were talking, the door to the study every-so-slightly opened, and someone eavesdropped from the other side…

“But you’ve got to do something!” John protested. “You must know where Sabrina has gone!”

Quentin put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and started to lead him back to the door. “I’ll find Sabrina, I promise!”

John turned back to Quentin. “I want to go with you! I’ve got to see for myself that she’s safe!”

Quentin shook his head. “I think it would be best if I handled things. I’ll find Sabrina, and I won’t leave her side—Not for the entire night!”

“Please, hurry and find her!” John pleaded one last time. Quentin nodded and shut the doors behind him. He let out a loud sigh and checked the time on the grandfather clock again. He still had time to get the moon poppy and bring it to Chris.

Checking outside the front doors to make sure that John was really gone, Quentin hurried outside and closed the doors behind him.

The door to the study creaked open, as whoever was eavesdropping knew he had gone…

Meanwhile, Sabrina hurried from the library to Collinwood, stopping near the cottage so that she could hurry inside and retrieve the moon poppy. It was still sitting there, untouched. “Oh, Quentin!” Sabrina cried out loud with dismay. “You lied when you said you’d help…”

She picked up the poppy and held it in her arms. “It’s going to work this time…” Sabrina looked up. “Please God, please let it work this time!”

Sabrina hurried out of the cottage with the moon poppy. Getting in her car, she sped away from Collinwood, intending to save the man she loved no matter what the cost…

Act One:

Angelique and Laszlo sat in the Drawing Room alone together. Dameon had left the trio a few minutes ago to hunt down Quentin, and Angelique and Laszlo sipped her special peppermint rose tea.

“I can’t wait to get back to New York and have this transcribed!” Laszlo held up the cassette tape with his composition recorded onto it. “And this time, it won’t fall into the WRONG hands!”

“I’m so glad to hear you talk like this!” Angelique said, as she sipped her tea. “What a difference from the depressed young man who first came to Collinwood!”

Laszlo reached over and patted her hand. “I owe it all to you. You’ve helped me SEE things in a different light!”

Angelique squeezed his hand. “I so wish that I could help you ACTUALLY see things in a different light! If anyone deserved to get their sight back—you do!”

Laszlo withdrew his hand and took a sip of the special tea. “Well, I’m afraid that just isn’t possible. I’ve been blind since I was two years old. When a gas stove exploded, it destroyed my corneas.”

“Laszlo,” Angelique began. She had an idea to try and help him. “Show me how you see people.”

“Well, the only way is to touch their face. People usually lie, even innocently, but the face never does,” Laszlo answered.

“Show me,” Angelique pressed. She had to do this carefully as to not arouse his suspicions.

“If you don’t mind…” Laszlo said. He reached over and traced the shape of Angelique’s chin, and then her cheeks. She closed her eyes as he traced the contour around her eyebrows.

“Let me try,” Angelique said, with her eyes shut. She reached over and caressed Laszlo’s face. He removed his glasses and set them on his lap.

“I believe in something called mental healing,” Angelique told him as she stroked the contours around his eyes. “Basically, if you THINK something is possible with all you might, then it IS possible!”

“Oh, Angelique!” sighed Laszlo. “If only that were true.”

“It IS true!” Angelique insisted. “Imagine in your mind, tiny sparks. Tiny sparks like tiny stars, glowing and ebbing in your mind!” She continued to trace around his forehead and eyes with her fingers.

“I’ll try,” Laszlo answered. “I think I remember what those looked like…”

“Concentrate,” Angelique continued. “Concentrate only on seeing those dancing little embers…”

“My God!” Laszlo gasped. “I think I actually do see sparks… Just sparks, mind you, but still…” He sat there in awe as he saw the tiny stars dance in the blackness.

Angelique smiled and leaned back in her seat. Finally, it had started, and Laszlo would not realize that witchcraft was the cause…

Act Two:

Buffie Harrington watched as John walked into the Blue Whale as though the weight of the entire world was on his shoulders. shook her head in sympathy as John slumped down in a bar seat in front of her. “Boy, look what the cat dragged in!”

John looked up, dully surprised, as though he barely registered seeing the pretty blonde young woman standing before him. “Huh?”

“Either you’ve just been dumped, fired, or you’ve ran over your cat!” Buffie exclaimed sarcastically.

“What… Oh, nothing like that,” John said. “I’ve just been thinking about someone—someone in a lot of trouble—and I don’t think I can help her!”

“Ohhh! Her!” Buffie nodded understandingly. “I thought it had to be a HER!” She looked back at the bottle of liquor and said, “I think I know just the cure for a HER!” She produced a bottle of tequila and held it in front of her. “I’ll have one, if you have one!” she exclaimed. Buffie poured the tequila into two shot glasses and slid one towards John. “The first one is on the house!” She clinked her glass to his and swigged it down.

John managed a little smile and held the shot glass up. “Thanks, but I think you misunderstand. This girl I’m worried about—she’s not a girlfriend or anything…” He swigged down his tequila and coughed as he set his shot glass down. “I mean I wouldn’t even call us friends, really… Maybe just acquaintances?”

Buffie nodded, but one eyebrow was raised. “Whatever you say, Mister?”

“Oh, um John Jaeger, and you are?” John slid his shot glass back towards her.

She smiled and poured his drink and slid it back. “Buffie… Buffie Harrington.”

“Say, Buffie,” John started after he gulped down his shot of tequila and coughed, “Have you seen a dark-haired guy in here lately… Specifically, last night?”

Buffie gave a little laugh. “There’s a lot of ‘dark-haired guys’ that come in here! You’ll have to do better than that!”

“Oh, well,” John tried to remember. “He was probably in his late twenties, possibly early thirties… Kind of scruffy-looking… He was wearing a red plaid jacket!”

Buffie turned pale. She instantly thought of Steve, the bar patron whom she had HIRED the night before. She shook her head. “No, I can’t say I remember. A lot of guys wear plaid jackets in this town, and no one really stuck out to me—why do you ask?”

“Well, my friend—not the same friend we were talking about before, but a different one—my friend was attacked by this guy last night, and I was just wondering if he was hanging out around here… She was pretty shook up after the incident…”

“Sorry, I can’t help you,” Buffie shook her head as she held up the tequila bottle. “Another shot? Boy, you sure have a lot of ‘female’ friends in trouble, don’t you?” She poured his tequila and turned away to put the bottle back. If only John could have seen the worried expression on Buffie’s face as she looked away from him…

Act Three:

Sabrina sped up to Green Mountain, trying to make to Chris’s cabin before the sunset. However, she saw an obstacle halfway there—a flood warning sign urging motorists to turn back. “No!” Sabrina screamed out loud, banging the car’s console painfully with her fist.

She stopped the car and left it running. Getting out, she pulled and struggled at the sign to move it out of the way. Getting back in her car, she sped up the trail to Green Mountain. But, as she splashed through some water running over the road, the car started to idle. “No!” she screamed again…

Finally getting away from Collinwood, Quentin entered the caretaker’s cottage to find the moon poppy not there on the table like Sabrina said it would be. Walking around the cottage, Quentin found a note instead. Quentin picked it up and read it…

Quentin ~

I could not
wait any longer.
I am taking the
poppy to the cabin.

~ Sabrina

Quentin’s eyes widened with horror. “God, no! Sabrina!” He rushed out of the cottage, and practically ran back to his car. As Quentin got in, he did not see the trunk of his car move, and a pair of eyes peek out from the darkness of the trunk…

Meanwhile, Sabrina finally made it to Chris’s cabin on Green Mountain. Finding the front door wide open, she rushed in with the moon poppy. “Chris! Chris! I’ve got the moon poppy!”

She frantically scanned the room, looking for him. She looked out the front door and saw that the sun was setting in the pink sky. Shutting the door, she set the moon poppy down on a table and lit a couple of lamps.

The full moon was visible outside the windows, and as the moon rose, the poppy began to fully bloom. Sabrina turned and saw the petals, and realized then and there that Chris was not going to be able to eat them this time…

Quentin sped towards Green Mountain, never suspecting that someone was inside the trunk of his car hitching a ride. There was no flood warning sign to impede his progress, however, as Sabrina had never moved it back into place. Quentin realized that the sky was turning pink as the sun began to lower before his very eyes…

Sabrina hugged herself as she looked at the moon poppy. “Oh, Chris! I was too late!” Her only hope was that he did not return to the cabin until morning.

Suddenly there was growling coming from outside the cabin. A wild animal was scratching at the door, trying to get in. Sabrina hurried over to the front door and bolted it quickly. The scratching and growling continued and Sabrina looked around the cabin for something silver to protect herself with…


Angelique Rumson… LARA PARKER

Sabrina Stuart… LISA RICHARDS

Quentin Collins… DAVID SELBY


Laszlo Ferrari… MICHAEL STROKA

Buffie Harrington… ELIZABETH EIS