Tired of her fantasies, Francesca looks up to the sun toclear her mind. It is blinding. When she looks back out ontothe road, her vision is momentarily blurred. Until, slowly,out of the blue, she sees: A TRUCK driving toward her house, kicking up dust, like somephantom appearing through the etheric plane. Francesca isn'teven sure it's real. She sips cool drink & blinks toregain her vision. The truck slows down and turns into herdriveway. Francesca watches with suspicious curiosity as: The truck stops and ROBERT KINCAID steps out. Flashing hisblue eyes in her direction, he smiles and says: ROBERTSorry to bother you, but I've got afeeling I'm lost. Francesca remains guarded. FRANCESCAAre you supposed to be in Iowa? ROBERT(laughs)Yeah. FRANCESCA: Well, you're not that lost. He laughs. She puts down her tea and crosses to him. ROBERTI'm looking for a covered bridge outthis way... uh... wait a minute --He looks through a small notepad for the name. Francescafinds herself scanning his body. FRANCESCARoseman Bridge? ROBERTThat's it. FRANCESCAWell, you're pretty close. It's onlyabout two miles from here. ROBERTOh, terrific. Which way? Pause as Robert awaits directions and Francesca scans a suddenimpulse. FRANCESCAWell, I can take you if you want. Robert is pleased, but a bit surprised as is Francesca whoanxiously recants: FRANCESCA (cont'd)Or I can tell you. I can take you ortell you. It's up to you. I don'tcare. Either way. Robert smiles finding her sudden nervousness charming. ROBERTWell --Suddenly, from the opposite direction of the road, A CHEVYbarrels by. The driver, FLOYD, toots his horn. FLOYDHowdy, Francesca. FRANCESCAHey, Floyd. He drives off. Francesca knows they've been seen. Slightlyannoyed by Iowain neighborliness, she turns to Robert andwith some defiance says: FRANCESCA (cont'd)It'd be better if I show you, I think. ROBERTIf I'm not taking you away fromanything. FRANCESCANo. I was just going to have someiced tea then split the atom, butthat can wait. (he smiles)I just have to get my shoes. Robert watches her as she turns and heads back to the house. He watches her lift her blouse and tuck it into her jeans,revealing her shapely hips and buttocks. He turns back to thetruck and notices the mailbox -- MR & MRS. RICHARD JOHNSON. Henods as if he knew all along and begins to make room on thefront seat for Francesca. INT. JOHNSON HOUSEFrancesca is slipping on her boots when she suddenly stops. "What am I doing?", she asks herself silently. EXT. JOHNSON DRIVEWAYFrancesca approaches the truck. On the door, she reads: KINCAID PHOTOGRAPHY, BELLINGHAM, WASHINGTON. Robert is clearing away paper cups, banana peels, paper bags,photography equipment. In the back, Francesca notices acooler and a guitar case.
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