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  • ABOUT
    • About Us
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  • NEWS
    • News
    • LINKS
  • Submissions
  • ISSUE #13
    • Table of Contents
    • A WORD
    • MAPLE
    • InSight 1
    • POCKET ANTHOLOGY >
      • Enis Batur
    • PERFORMANCE >
      • A Reason to Dance
    • URBAN LEGENDS >
      • The Feeling of Lineage
    • InSight 2
    • FICTION >
      • I Met Myself
      • Distance
    • Edouard Roditi >
      • Quest for the Lost Proust
      • Translation: Paul Celan
    • InSight 3
    • MEMOIR
    • Ekphrasis: Voussoir
    • ¡VIVA! >
      • VIVAs
    • REMARKABLE READS >
      • EAVAN BOLAND
      • JOHN WIDEMAN
      • KINDRED
    • Colophon
    • Contributors
  • ISSUE 12
    • Table of Contents12
    • A WORD-12
    • InSight 1: The Nile
    • POCKET ANTHOLOGY >
      • Osip Mandelstam
    • CONVERSATIONS >
      • Myer-Darton-Meinecke
    • InSight 2: Hand Truck
    • ESSAYS >
      • from SWAMPITUDE
    • KONGO >
      • Kongo Crucifix
      • Four Moments of the Sun
    • VENTANAS >
      • Frontera II
    • FICTION >
      • Mabel, the Slave
    • MEMOIR-12
    • InSight 3: Carabou Hunter
    • ¡VIVA! >
      • Collado
    • POETRY >
      • Francesca Gargallo >
        • Before the Lamps Go Out
        • Before the Lamps Go Out2
        • Songs of the Journey
        • Songs of the Journey2
      • Stephanie Johnson
    • PORTFOLIO >
      • Leslie Wagner
    • REMARKABLE READS >
      • The Lovers
    • Colophon
    • Contributors
  • ISSUE 11
  • Back Issues

Oldekop

- First Time - 

A scene from an original teleplay

by Tobias Meinecke

Based on ​Death and a Maiden

a book of historical nonfiction

by William David Myers

A TITLE CARD READS ‘15 MONTHS EARLIER’
​
The camera is in extreme close-up on Grethe, who appears visibly much younger, almost adolescent, as opposed to the fully-developed young woman we saw in the first scenes.
 
Her face is a little flushed. Her eyes dart around nervously, but she also seems tired. And confused.

A MALE VOICE speaks, but sounds eerily muffled and far away.

​                    MALE VOICE (O.S.)
They say, a woman’s first time 
— 
she never forgets it.
A nondescript environment of light and shadows; only in brief and truncated glimpses is the scene revealed as a sun- flooded bedroom.

Occasionally, a MALE FORM brushes the frame.
​                    MALE VOICE (O.S.) (CONT'D)
Never, Grethe! Imagine. When I’m 
long dead, you’ll still think of 
me. Your first man. Naturally, one 
has hopes this will be a fond memory.
Grethe does not know where to look. She bites her lips. The camera tracks in on her.
​                    MALE VOICE (O.S.) (CONT'D)
Why are you looking at me like 
that? You liked it, no...?
​                    ​(Grethe nods, unconvincingly)
If it feels good, it can't be sin. 
I don't care what all the prudes say.
The Male comes into the shot. He is ANDREAS MÖLLER, about 40 y.o., a slightly overweight man, a few remaining strains of hair, semi-agreeable looking. He’s adjusting his shirt.
​                    ANDREAS MÖLLER
And it gets better every time, 
Grethe. I'd prove it to you, but 
not now.   I'm not twenty anymore.
The scene widens to give us a better view of...

INT. HAFFERLAND HOUSEHOLD. BEDROOM - AFTERNOON


​Grethe on a disheveled bed, half-undressed and uneasily covering herself with sheets. Her eyes look for her clothes, praying that MÖLLER will leave so she can get dressed.

Instead, he sits down on the edge of the bed.
​                    ANDREAS MÖLLER
Look at all that blood on the 
sheets. How sweet.
(suddenly realizing something)
Oh! You better wash that blood out, 
Grethe. Lest the dowager finds out 
and raises a stink. That pitiful 
dry prune would not understand what 
joy a man can have with a woman...


​                    GRETHE
​                    (quietly) 
Herr Möller...


​                    ANDREAS MÖLLER
​                    (caresses Grethe’s cheek) 
Yes, sweet one.

​                    (Grethe recoils)
You fear the dowager, don’t you? 
You’ll be fine. The old hag is a 
devil without teeth. If I cut off 
her allowance she'll be in the 
poorhouse. And she knows it. Now 
get your splendid buttocks out of 
my bed and go back to your room.


​                    GRETHE
​                    (even more quietly) 
Herr Möller...


​                    ANDREAS MÖLLER
I know, you want it again, you, you...!

​                    (he can’t quite come up with the word)
That makes a man happy. Tomorrow, 
I promise.
 

​                    GRETHE
​                    (hardly audible)
Herr Möller... it’s not that.


​                    ANDREAS MÖLLER
Herr Möller, Herr Möller. It’s not 
that. 
Well, speak then, for 
heaven’s sake.


​                    GRETHE
​                    (not looking at him)
We don’t do laundry here at the 
house. Gnädige Frau sends it to the 
Neustadt every Wednesday.


​                    ANDREAS MÖLLER
Oh! Oh. Well. Then... be a good 
girl and hide the sheets. Or better 
yet... burn them by the river. But 
make sure nobody sees you.
Grethe nods ever so slightly.

EXT. BRUNSWICK. BANKS OF THE OKER RIVER - DAY

Grethe walks along the river, carrying the bundled-up sheets in one hand and some tools in the other. Her eyes scan the river banks.
 
She comes to a bend, where bushes hide the river from the footpath. She pushes through the bushes down to the water and puts the bundle down.
 
She steps into the shallows, lifts her dress and stares down.
 
She tries to catch a reflection of her privates in the water, but sees nothing.

She touches herself and recoils from the pain.

She squats down, and with considerable pain, washes her privates.

MOMENTS LATER

Grethe has stacked tinder into a pile. She rubs a saltpeter mix with sticks and creates a spark.
 
With the ignited twigs she start a small fire. She rips the bed sheet into stripes and places one on the fire. Just when the cloth begins to burn she hears...

THE SOUND OF HORSES APPROACHING.

Grethe stomps out the fire, drops down and presses herself to the ground.
 
TWO SOLDIERS pass at medium speed, without paying attention at all.
 
Once they have passed she quickly tries to resurrect the fire. But it’s too late. And no more saltpeter.
 
Frustrated, she ties the sheets with two knots to make a pouch, places two heavy stones inside, ties a third knot and throws the whole bundle into the river.
 
She climbs back up the river dam. Just as she is about to reach the top, she pulls back startled.
 
A VERY OLD WOMAN, covered in several layers of clothing, stands staring at Grethe. The woman has watched her all along. We will get to know her as The Fränkische Woman, or just Fränkische.
​                    FRÄNKISCHE
Blood cannot be washed out of a
river, child. And we cannot undo
​the crimes of others.
Grethe does not look at the Fränkische.
​                    FRÄNKISCHE (CONT'D)
You have sorrows, child? Someone
​wronged you? A man, maybe?
Grethe shakes her head.
​                    FRÄNKISCHE (CONT'D)
Walk with me for a moment.

​                    GRETHE
My Gnädige Frau is expecting me.

​                    FRÄNKISCHE
You’ll have all the time in the
world with her. Take this...
She hands Grethe a straw doll.
​                    GRETHE
What is this...?

​                    FRÄNKISCHE
A highborn man will not love or
care for a low born maid. But he
will lust for her. And maybe plant
a child in her. If it’s so, he must
care for the child. He must. That
is the Lord’s command.


​                    GRETHE
I must go. Good day, dear woman.
Grethe pushes past the Old Woman and heads back towards Breite Strasse.
​                    FRÄNKISCHE
​                    (calling after her)
Many a good young woman is made to
suffer. For she has no friends.

Knowledgable friends.

​                    GRETHE
I have friends, thank you.


​                    FRÄNKISCHE
But if you find out you don’t, ask
at the market for The Fränkische
Woman.
Grethe nods and quickly walks away.

EXT. HAFFERLAND HOUSEHOLD - DAY


As Grethe approaches the Hafferland House she hears LOUD VOICES. Möller and WITWE HAFFERLAND, Möller’s stepmother, ​arguing fiercely.
​                    MÖLLER (O.S.)
​                    ​(bits and pieces)
I can leave you penniless, if I
wish. You are not my mother! My
father was a fool, but I’m not.
A SLAMMING DOOR and HEAVY FOOTSTEPS suggest that Möller has left.
 
Grethe does not know if she should enter now or wait. Before she can decide, the servant’s entrance door flies open.
 
Hafferland stands, still shaking and eyes red, but trying to project a strong facade.
​                    WITWE HAFFERLAND
Who were you talking to behind the
house, Grethe?


​                    GRETHE
Gnädige Frau?

​                    WITWE HAFFERLAND
You met someone behind the house.

​                    GRETHE
​                    (quickly improvising)
Yes, Gnädige Frau. It was my aunt.
My mothers sister. She inquired
about a visit in Gross-Schwülper.
My mother misses me very much.


​                    WITWE HAFFELAND
Is that so?


​                    GRETHE
Yes, it is so! Why would it not be so?
Hafferland looks at Grethe with displeasure.
​                    WITWE HAFFERLAND
You're never here when needed.  Go
upstairs. Herr Möller needs help.


​                    GRETHE
Herr Möller?


​                    WITWE HAFFERLAND
Yes. Packing up his affairs.  He's
off to Holland in two days. What
are you, deaf? Get a move on!

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