A big city ob-gyn fleeing his mid-life crisis collides with a small town undertaker, and together they discover that coming and going are the easiest things we do – it’s that stretch in between that’s the real challenge.

SYNOPSIS:

We open on a sequence showing several kinds of wheels – BABY BUGGY WHEELS pushed by moms in a NYC park – man, life is sweet, ain’t it? – across the street from a few WHEELCHAIRS carting around the elderly outside a hospital – damn, life is short, ain’t it? – before jumping to the wheels of a GURNEY desperately racing toward a delivery room, carrying a young woman writhing in pain. An attending nurse mentions “Dr. Foster” just as we slam through swinging doors–

–before jumping to MELVIN FOSTER, six months later at a highway rest area several hours north of the city, spitting angry words through a phone at his new boss-to-be who just jerked the job rug out from under him. He gets back into the overpacked station wagon – full of boxes and suitcases; empty of hope – where he is treated to a few verbal haymakers from his teenage daughter, Gracie, who’s just been ripped from her known world. Melvin’s midlife crisis isn’t just affecting him. Gracie is disgusted with her dad, and as they get back on the road, she comes so close to calling him a coward that the unsaid word fills what little space is left.

Of course, that’s when smoke starts pouring out of the engine and the tailpipe.

Melvin takes the next exit toward HAPVILLE, NY, a worn out, just-off-the-interstate town with faded store awnings that droop like tired eyelids on this lazy Sunday morning. An old man rooting in a garbage can on the otherwise empty sidewalk points Melvin in the direction of a local mechanic – and we learn that the old man is actually Gus “Doc” Mathers, the local sawbones. Doc Mathers also gives Gracie directions to a nearby diner, and she abandons her dad and his car issues in search of breakfast.

Gracie arrives at Ronnie’s Coffee Shop, the warm little heartbeat of this town, a gathering spot for farmers, hairdressers, shop owners, truck drivers. Real friendly – if you’re local. Chatter ceases and staring starts when Gracie, the multi-pierced, neon-hair-colored city kid looking for pancakes and free wifi walks in.

Ronnie’s friendly enough, though. And an old lady in a nearby booth, Esther Mathers (Doc Mathers’ wife), “grandma-bullies” Gracie into joining her for a cup of tea, and for a moment it seems that Gracie is trapped listening to the babbling of an old woman as Esther explains how Native Americans drank hot beverages with new friends to symbolize the patience that new relationships require. Gracie yawns. Doc Mathers arrives, catches the conversation, and informs Gracie that his wife is a pathological liar. Esther doesn’t deny the lying, but insists it’s “recreational” rather than pathological. The strange revelation begins a bond between Esther and Gracie, who admits that, as a fourteen year old, lying is her life.

Melvin comes in and tries to sugar coat the news from the mechanic. Gracie spots the lie right away, realizing they’re stuck here for at least a few days. A discussion about where they’ll stay leads to Esther claiming there’s a lovely bed-and-breakfast in town, even as her husband vehemently denies it–

–which leads us to the HOUSE. A once-charming, now empty two-story, single-family dwelling on a side street just a block away. Dust covers and faded paint. Esther was born here. She and Doc had hoped to fill it with kids but never had any luck. They’ve been living in the apartment above his medical office for years.

The grownups discuss whether the travelers should bunk here, or arrange transportation up the interstate to a small hotel. Melvin notices Gracie isn’t with them, and finds her outside on tthe wraparound porch–

–watching a neighbor in the driveway next door skinning a dead cat on a workbench. What the hell?

The neighbor, Carla “Digger” Peterson, is unaware she’s being watched. She wouldn’t care if she knew.

Gracie and Melvin are transfixed, until they hear a SCREAM. They run back inside, through the house to the back door–

–and find Esther admiring a STUFFED, DEAD POODLE sitting on the back porch. It’s sitting up, one paw extended in a permanent “shake” pose. Creepy and cute at the same time.

Esther calls over the fence to Digger, thanking her for the gift and inviting her over. Digger comes through the hedges for some awkward introductions – she never removes her bloody gloves, and the scalpel is still in her hand.

Melvin is introduced as a doctor, and he tries to joke that his job is to keep business from people like Digger.

Digger deadpans that she’ll “get them all, eventually.” More awkwardness, until they’re rescued by the arrival of POKE who’s looking for Doc Mathers. Someone named Maggie has taken a bad fall at Chet Taylor’s farm.

Doc Mathers jumps into his own car, telling Poke to bring Melvin to get his medical bag from his car at Poke’s garage – it’s more on the way than Doc’s office – and meet him at the Taylor’s farm.

Melvin arrives shortly after to discover that Maggie is, in fact, a Holstein cow with an obstructed airway. Doc Mathers realizes there’s a goiter growing on the inside of the cow’s windpipe. He can’t get a hold of the thing, it’s so damn slippery, so he shoves his hand into a burlap potato sack, turning it into a giant, ultra-gripping glove. He reaches in to remove the goiter–

–just as Melvin realizes the cow is going into labor. He tries to help the calf emerge, but it’s hung up inside the mother, her back end a bloody, slippery mess. Melvin rips his shirt off, ties the sleeves around the calf’s legs. Poke and a farmhand named Pete drop beside the cow, ready to help.

So now we’ve got a group of men surrounding a prone cow, one with his arm shoved down the cow’s throat, one trying to pull a calf out of the other end, the other two trying to hold down fifteen hundred pounds of very troubled cow.

And we watch as these good men

–REACH–

–and GRAB HOLD–

–and STRUGGLE to maintain their grip–

–and two of them LEAN FORWARD, putting their weight on the cow–

–and some LEAN BACK...and PULLLLLLLLLL–

...and then there’s a long silence...followed by a low, exhausted MOOOOOOOOOOO...

The men have all collapsed on the ground. Melvin has a SLIMY NEWBORN CALF in his arms. The farmhand tenderly unties the shirt sleeves from the calf's front legs. Chet hugs Maggie the cow’s neck. Poke rubs her muzzle. Everyone's looking at the calf and smiling.

Everyone except Doc Mathers. He's flat on his back in the dirt, looking up at the sky–

–having a heart attack.

And it’s now, in the middle of a real crisis, that the real Dr. Melvin Foster emerges. He opens Doc’s shirt, pops a nitroglycerin tablet into his mouth, tells Poke to call 911. Poke motions toward Doc – “He IS 911 in these parts.” “Okay, well how far is the nearest hospital?” “About forty miles.” Oh shit.

The men fill the bed of Poke’s pickup with cushions and blankets from the house, then lay Gus on it before we ease into a–

Musical SCENE SEQUENCE

(and I know that most likely the music behind the sequence will be out of my control, but after you’ve heard this pitch, go listen to Patty Griffin’s “Don’t Come Easy” and imagine it playing in the background, and I’ll owe you a Coke if you don’t agree).

For the next several minutes we alternate between parallel images of the MEN racing along an achingly beautiful country road, the autumn foliage ablaze in the crimson and gold of a mountain sunset and the WOMEN at Ronnie’s diner, where the phone on the wall is ringing.

In a kind of bad-dream slo-mo, Ronnie leaves the booth where Gracie and Esther are still laughing at the stuffed poodle, and answers the phone, wiping away tears of laughter, her smile quickly fading as she listens, and the smiles on Esther and Gracie’s faces fade too when they see the look on Ronnie’s face as we jump back to–

Poke, driving, looking in the rearview mirror at Melvin in the back of the pickup, beginning CPR on Doc Mathers, Chet kneeling helplessly beside them. We jump again to–

–the WOMEN, Ronnie driving, wiping away a single tear before she steals a look in her rearview mirror at ESTHER, stoic, beside a troubled Gracie–

–as then the come over a rise and see the pickup truck, now pulled over at a blinking light crossroads. Gus is dead. Melvin sits on the pickup bed, staring into the wood. Esther is still stoic. And as Gracie approaches her dad and their eyes meet, we see another side of their relationship: sure, they get sideways with each other, but it’s suddenly clear these two have been through a ton of shit together. They’re survivors.

Back to town the gentle shift between parallel images continue, only now we’re going back and forth between various preparations for a funeral:

Potato salad in someone’s kitchen…and Gus’ body on Digger’s stainless steel table.

Cold cut trays coming out of a fridge…scalpels in a row.

Meatballs in a crockpot…and tubes of embalming fluid stretching into the darkness.

We see a community coming together….and a lone member, Digger, remaining apart, before revealing–

–GRACIE, also alone, watching from a dark kitchen as a steady stream of community warmth and love flows into the funeral home next door. The musical scene sequence ends here.

Upstairs, in a back bedroom of Esther’s old house, Melvin is mid phone call: the teaching job that fell apart has come back together. Sort of. Enough to justify pushing on to Vermont. He comes down to the kitchen to tell Gracie some “good news”, but they’re interrupted by a knock – it’s Esther. She wants Melvin’s help getting Gus’ wedding tuxedo down from the attic, and she wants Gracie to come next door to get something to eat.

Esther asks Melvin to bring the clothes to Digger in her garage, and Melvin arrives just as Digger has finished embalming Gus. They have their first real conversation, a whispered exchange beneath the sightless eyes of a gallery of dead, stuffed creatures – a conversation about the empty phrases we use – “I’m sorry for your loss” – “Is there anything I can do?” – and the whole thing gives Melvin – and us – a first glimpse inside Digger. It’s dark in there, but it’s a curious dark. A darkness that both fears and yearns for light.

A few minutes later Melvin joins Gracie in the middle of the warm gathering in the funeral home, where funny “Doc Mathers” stories are being shared and enjoyed. Melvin notices the loving moniker “Doc” being used by those speaking to him. It’s clear the word has spread about his heroism with Maggie the cow, and his efforts to save Gus. There’s no blame in anyone’s face; no insincerity in the handshakes. Just gratitude and welcome.

When everyone is leaving, Esther sends Gracie off, then turns to Melvin. Is he okay? With the events of the day, with Gus’ death? The man insisted on bacon every day for sixty years, was twenty pounds overweight, and never did put the pipe down completely. For a man like that, a heart attack is not a lightning bolt out of a blue sky. So tell me Melvin, Esther says. Are you okay?

I’m as okay as I get, is Melvin’s honest response.

Good, she says. Because I don’t want you making a big decision while you’re all cluttered up with stupid, senseless guilt.

What decision?

I think you should stay. That hospital is still forty miles away. And that young lady needs more than you’ve got packed in that station wagon. Think about it.

Later that night, Melvin gets up, goes quietly to Gracie’s room. Looks at her while she’s sleeping. From her window he can also see the light of Digger’s garage. He’s thinking. The next morning he finds her sitting in the kitchen again, watching through the window as townfolk in their Sunday best gather next door for the final services and burial. Gracie reminds Melvin that the night before he was about to share some “good news,” but they’d been interrupted by Esther’s knock and invitation. What was it?

He smiles. “That I’m not running anymore.”

And then we find ourselves coming in through the funeral home door, turning into the viewing room where the entire town has gathered, where Esther sits in a chair near Gus’ open casket. People pass, saying their goodbyes to Gus, offering their condolences to Esther. She nods, accepts the love and support. The stoicism is gone. This is goodbye.

And then, through the steady stream of people, beyond the kids being hushed and the adults whispering, Esther sees Melvin and Gracie making their way to two empty seats, smack in the middle of the room. The two of them sit. Melvin puts his arm around Gracie. He looks up at Esther. Nods.

Esther nods back. And a small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

COMING AND GOING