Under the Falls

Part 1

The Limo

Jason, Beth, Eddie, Jack, and Tyler ride in the limo toward Stone Mountain. Jason demands an explanation from Tyler, who's been acting strange since Nashville. Tyler can't admit he's been paralyzed by dread ever since Jason booked this gig without asking. He insists he's not pissed, but they both know he is. Jason argues it's a perfect tune-up gig for a good cause—Tyler's old friend Doc. Tyler reminds him it's been eighteen years since he last saw Doc, and he hasn't been back to Stone Mountain since he left. Beth confirms all mail from Stone Mountain gets returned unopened.

Tyler's Burden

Tyler reflects on what Jason's really worried about. Stone Mountain is essentially a duo now—that's how important Beth has become. But she's not vital, and that's the problem. Tyler hasn't been right for a while. The tour is supposed to fix whatever's fucked up. If he can't find his way, it's game over. Beth will land on her feet as a solo artist—that's been her secret ambition. They share songwriting credits, but fans speculate whose songs are whose. These days Beth stops playing piano the moment she notices him watching. He misses collaborating with her early in the process. He suspects she's caught up to him skill-wise and doesn't need him as much anymore. Onstage she's relegated to background harmonies, three feet from stardom. He doesn't know if she thinks he's holding her back. He's cut back on drinking, started exercising. He'd considered proposing before the pandemic, but now wonders if marriage is even necessary. The lockdown was good for them—they wrote albums' worth of songs. The tour is supposed to shed the rust. If only the first stop weren't Stone Mountain.

Behind the Falls

Tyler thought he'd put Stone Mountain behind him, but the memories flood back. His favorite spot as a kid was under the Falls, a hidden cave behind the dam. The memory haunting him is of the day his best friend Curt found him hiding there, crying. Tyler's father had beaten his mother again. Tyler confessed he just watched—his mother on the floor begging while his father kept kicking her. Curt told him he couldn't have done anything. Curt's parents would let Tyler stay with them. Tyler felt gratitude he still feels today. But he knew it was impossible—when his mother got out of the hospital and his father out of jail, they'd go back to being a family. "He's just going to keep doing it until he kills her." Curt promised to help him when he grew up. They linked pinkies. "Best friends forever?" "Forever."

Promises are all predicated on the belief that how you feel now is how you'll always feel. Which is a crock. Seven years later, Tyler left Stone Mountain with a duffel bag, stolen money, and his guitar. He said goodbye to no one—not Curt, not Freddi, not Doc. He hasn't been back since. Thanks to fucking Jason, that's where he's headed now.

The Trailer

An hour later, with Beth's warm hand in his cold one, Tyler has tamped down the worst of his dread. Passing the old amusement park, Jason asks what happened. Same as everywhere in the Rust Belt: mills shut, jobs went overseas. Those left behind? Tyler snorts: MAGA hats, stockpiled guns, conspiracy theories. Jason, who is Jewish, cocks his head. "You must sympathize. At least a little?" "Not particularly," Tyler says. Natural selection.

The limo turns onto a rutted dirt driveway where a rusty double-wide trailer sits. Beth is wide-eyed. Tyler chortles: "You thought all of Appalachia's in West Virginia?" A bright orange hearse is parked outside, along with a TV station van. Tyler nudges Jason. "Now do you see why I split?" Beth asks if he needs her to come with. He pecks her cheek—no reason to put her through this. He tells Jason he'll catch a ride with the TV crew. "Call if there's a problem," Jason says. "I'll send a roadie." Tyler pastes on a big smile and waves before leaning back in. "I blame you for this," he tells Jason. "And I always will."

The Interview

The TV woman introduces herself as Emma. Inside, the trailer has been customized for a man in a wheelchair. Tyler recognizes Doc—gym shorts, Walmart polo, flip-flops. From the waist up he looks normal. His legs are pale, thin, atrophied.

Tyler exclaims "There he is!" as if he's been looking forward to this reunion. He worries about how good he is when cameras roll—whether so much false cheer makes you permanently false. Doc grins up at him. "I'd stand, but..."

Emma asks what it's like to see his old friend after so long. Tyler says this is the stop he's been looking forward to. Doc tells Emma he's got all Tyler's records, so Tyler's been here the whole time. Emma asks about the band's name. Tyler dons his serious mask: if you survive childhood, you have enough to write about for the rest of your life. Then Emma asks about Doc's accident. Doc raps his knuckles on his lifeless legs. "Hell, it's not painful at all." But then he gets serious. "What's painful is being young and dumb."

Doc tells the story: he, Tyler, and another friend were at the Falls, having a contest to see who could swing out farthest on a rope. Doc had a new strategy—Tyler would grab him by the waist and launch him. Doc remembers flying through the air, seeing he's not where he's supposed to be. Right over the dam. "If I'd just held on, I probably would've been okay, but for some reason I let go of the rope..." Tyler relives it: his friend falling, landing with a sickening crack on the iron pipe, slipping silently into the water. "Anyhow," Doc says, "the rest is history." He nudges Tyler. "Music history."

The Long Fall

Emma doesn't miss the cue. "'The Long Fall.' Your most famous song." Tyler feels lightheaded. She asks if Doc was on his mind when he wrote it. "I don't know," he says, his voice strange. "I guess I must've been." Emma offers a kind interpretation—in the song, the boy who's falling never lands. Was Tyler trying to keep Doc from landing? The generosity allows Tyler to rally. Maybe, he tells her, but he thinks it's more about how time works.

Emma turns back to Doc. Did everything slow down for him? Doc shakes his head. All he remembers is being in the water. Cold and quiet. Peaceful, almost. He kept sinking. Didn't he think he might be dying? "Not really," Doc says. "It was more like this was just how things would be from now on. I'd just keep sinking forever."

Doc finally breaks the silence. "But somehow this guy right here found me down there in the dark and dragged me back into the world." Emma turns to Tyler. "You saved your friend's life." Tyler's stomach churns. She wants to crown him as the hero. Refusing to corroborate her feel-good narrative, he lies, saying Doc was just a couple feet below the surface. "I probably stepped on the poor guy." Emma chalks it up to modesty.

She shifts to the money. Doc snorts, "Twenty mil should do it." He mentions losing Medicaid. "Turns out there's a limit to how much they'll spend on one cripple." Emma says, "Tyler Sinclair to the rescue." Tyler stays stubborn. "I'm sure Doc would do the same for me if our situations were reversed." "Like hell," Doc says, then clarifies he's joking. "I'd take the money and head for the Bahamas."

Emma announces tonight's concert, with proceeds going to Doc's medical expenses. One last question: "Do you plan to sing 'The Long Fall'?" Tyler deflects, asking if Doc wants him to. Doc quips about being pushed off the stage. Tyler grins. "Let her rip."

The Long Fall (Continued)

The interview concludes. Outside, Emma tells Tyler to have Doc show him the hearse—Doc couldn't wait to show off how it's tricked out. She gazes at Doc's shabby trailer. "Do you ever wonder how people do it? Where do you find the courage to meet each new day?" The questions shame Tyler. Emma's heart has gone out to Doc completely. Why hasn't his own?

Doc wheels himself out and insists Tyler ride with him in the Doc-Mobile. In the hearse, Tyler realizes the man who's paralyzed from the waist down intends to drive. Doc reads his thought: "Think of it this way. If you die? You'll already be in a hearse." Doc explains the hand apparatuses for shift, brakes, gas. Tyler asks what Doc does. Doc's expression turns serious. "Nobody told you? I run a vast criminal empire." Until Doc breaks into a grin, Tyler half believes him.

At the bottom of the drive, Doc goes left instead of right. "There's something I need to show you first." They're almost to the campground before Tyler realizes where they're headed. Doc wants him to see how much the place has changed. The

Part 2

Part 2

Curt makes his first stop at Doc's trailer, where Everett Crenzal is finishing repairs on the hearse. He's hammered the fender back into shape and replaced the broken reflector. When Curt asks if anybody's been by asking questions, Everett assures him not a soul. Everett mentions an apartment coming available at the Stone Mountain Arms, and Curt's interest perks. Everett gives him his TracFone number. Everett asks if he could learn to drive the hearse, since there's not much work on the Mountain. Curt can't help thinking of Tyler in his hospital bed.

At the station, Deb is still there. Her eye is still discolored but the swelling has gone down. He's put her on desk duty this week. Something has changed between them since that night in the ravine. Deb seems disillusioned with him now, maybe even suspicious. Curt wonders if she's checked the phone log for the night of the accident and noticed there was no record of the caller who reported the ruptured guardrail.

When she asks about his friend, Curt updates her: Tyler has undergone at least half a dozen operations, with a crushed trachea, broken knee, elbow, and wrist, and a bad concussion. When he regained consciousness, he was told the driver died, the band's manager died, and Beth Delaney survived but was moved to a Boston hospital. After hearing that, Tyler didn't open his eyes for nearly forty-eight hours.

"Will he ever sing again?" Deb asks.

"Doubtful."

She asks what Curt would do if he could no longer do the thing that means the most to him. He admits he's never been that good at anything. What matters to him now, keeping Freddi and Curtis Jr. safe, requires no special talent, just doggedness and attention to detail.

Back home, Curtis Jr. sits at the far end of the wraparound deck, reading a glossy brochure. Freddi says the boy has been withdrawn, uncommunicative, inconsolable. In a few days he's lost Doc and Tyler Sinclair, a musician he idolized. Junior hands over the brochure. It's for Kingdom Farm in northern Vermont, where kids pay to work a real farm. Freddi's idea, to get Junior off the Mountain for the summer.

"Why do I have to go somewhere?" Junior asks. "When do I get a say in what's best for me? I'm almost eighteen."

Junior asks if Tyler is going to die. Curt says no, hoping with all his heart. Curt explains that broken bones heal, but bones aren't the tough part. "In order to recover completely, you have to want to."

Junior asks if they were really friends. Curt says Tyler was friends with both him and his mother. Junior's expression darkens. "I don't think she likes him as much as you do."

Curt offers an idea: when Tyler is well enough to leave the hospital, would Junior like it if Tyler came to stay with them for a while? Junior's face brightens. Curt asks Junior not to bring it up until he's had a chance to discuss it with her.

Inside, Freddi sits at the long dining room table, littered with bills. She's been angry all week. Finally she looks up and says, "This doesn't work. All of it. Us. Our lives are unsustainable."

He asks how sending Curtis Jr. to some expensive rip-off in Vermont makes them more sustainable. "I don't want him here when I'm arrested," she explains.

This again. Curt assures her she isn't going to be arrested. "I'm the chief of police. If you were going to be arrested, I'd know, wouldn't I?"

She just stares at him. "We need to start making runs again."

"That's exactly what we don't need." Everett called, she says. Offered to help. Curt points out that the whole thing worked because Doc had a legitimate reason to leave the Mountain every week. That logic doesn't apply to Freddi, and it definitely doesn't apply to Everett, who is also an idiot.

"If we don't make the runs," Freddi says, "somebody else will. It's money just lying around."

Curt shifts gears. "Did you say something to Junior about not liking Tyler?"

"Why would I do that?"

She tells him Junior is trying to figure out why Curt spends every day at the hospital instead of on the Mountain where he belongs. "You come waltzing in here after we've eaten dinner and say, 'No change.' I'm not worrying about whether the man you used to be friends with lives or dies. I'm worrying about us."

"How am I supposed to protect this family if I'm not on top of what's going on in Albany? I need to find out what Tyler remembers."

"What I understand, Curt, is that we need to start making runs again."

He refuses until they figure out how to do it safely. "You no longer have a legitimate reason to leave the Mountain. We're going to need a different one, and whoever's driving it has to be somebody we trust absolutely."

She's grinning at him now. Consulting her watch, she begins to count silently on her fingers. One. Two. Three. Four. At five, he understands and shakes his head. "No. Absolutely not."

"Why?"

"Because I'm the chief of police, Freddi."

Because it's one thing to look the other way when an old friend engages in behavior he disapproves of, and another thing entirely to engage in criminal conduct himself. Freddi has never said in so many words that those runs in the Doc-Mobile have paid some of the bills on this very table, but Curt has suspected it.

What he'd really like right now is to wipe that smirk off her face. She's sitting right there, in reach. He could backhand her right off that chair. The only thing preventing him, damn it, is that she's right.

She also understands that even if he needs to monitor Tyler's recovery to protect his family, he's also spending his days at the hospital because he simply can't give Tyler up. Tyler is his friend. His best friend. The other thing Curt is sure of? That Freddi will never, ever understand.

"One run," he hears himself tell her, his heart sinking as he utters the words.

"When?"

"Tomorrow." "Only one. That's all I'm committing to."

"I'll make the arrangements."

"Don't involve Everett," he warns, and when she offers no reply, he says, "Promise me."

"I won't involve Everett," she says, her voice a dull monotone.

Which guts him. What he'd been hoping she'd say was I promise, because those two simple words would have implied intimacy. It's as if she can read not just his mind but also his heart, and knowing what he wants and needs, she's able to deny him in ways both large and small.

For Tyler, surfacing from the darkness is a cruel, repeated violation. The place he's leaving is lovely and dark, but the one he's entering is bright and full of throbbing pain. He remembers now: there was an accident. They fell off the Mountain. Doc's fault. Beth survived, but Jason is dead. Lucky devil, Tyler thinks, wishing he were with him, sinking back down into the lovely dark.

The next time he surfaces, Tyler realizes his dead father has visited him. The man is transparent, clearly not real. He's not angry about the money Tyler stole from his wallet all those years ago. He explains that he was never really mad at Tyler's mother; it was about losing his job. Tyler confronts him: "You're not even real, are you?" The man admits he isn't, and Tyler is tugged back to the surface, leaving his father behind, calling, "So long, son. Be seeing you."

The operation was a success, he's told. As he nods off, he sees the doctor straighten up, and framed in the window is the face of his old friend Curt.

The bleak days blur together. Tyler exists in two parallel worlds. The world of is is rational, where the darkness is just drug-induced unconsciousness. But there's another world, every bit as real, where the dark water behind the dam represents his oblivion and his lost voice is traced back to the concert when he failed to sing "The Long Fall." He grudgingly concedes that he is merely sleeping. Doc didn't try to kill him, because Doc is dead. He accepts that the men who died are not in a better place, and that envying Jason is a way to evade responsibility for his death. Jason died because of Tyler, because of a chain of events he set in motion long ago. He tells himself things will evolve, but he can't imagine changing his complete disinterest in what comes next. It's not despair, not boredom. It's loneliness, he realizes, different from being alone.

Deb doesn't like the look of Everett Crenzal, the man moving into her apartment. Dressed in filthy jeans and looking hungover, he appears annoyed and surprised when she opens the door. "He sure doesn't look like a policeman," her mother says. Deb agrees. The chief would have mentioned someone new being hired. As they step outside, the man drops his cigarette onto the ground and grinds it out with his work boot. There's something about the casual violence of the gesture that Deb finds disconcerting. Of all the men the chief could have found to move into her apartment, why this one? Her mother says, "That man bears watching

Part 3

Part 3

On the deck just after dawn, Curt watches the morning sky lighten when Freddi's hand lands on his shoulder, startling him. She's brought two cups of coffee. "You didn't come to bed last night," she says. He says he fell asleep on the couch. "Things will be better now," she tells him, meaning now that Tyler's gone back to Nashville. Curt isn't sure.

He worries about Junior, who wants to return to the farm in Vermont for the rest of the summer. Curt doesn't believe Junior actually wants to go. He keeps catching Freddi and Junior talking quietly, and they clam up when he approaches. He suspects they're keeping something from him.

Freddi argues that Junior making friends and wanting to do real work is a good sign. Curt isn't buying it. He's been calling Tyler since he left, but every call goes to voicemail. Freddi says Tyler's gone for good, that he'll get a new phone and forget about the Mountain. Curt wants to believe they truly bonded, but he holds his tongue.

Inside, Freddi's phone rings. She goes in to answer, turning her back to him. Curt gets a bizarre notion that it's Tyler she's talking to. He calls Tyler's number—it goes straight to voicemail. He leaves a message: "Tyler? I'm sorry to keep calling like this. You must think I'm some sort of lunatic. I just... want to make sure you made it home okay."

When Freddi returns, she suggests they go to bed. The sex is good, but Curt realizes it was transactional—payment for not pressing her further. When he asks who she was talking to, she finally admits it was Everett. "Your move," she seems to say. As usual, he doesn't have one.

In the Chapel

Tyler knows he's being held captive in Sacred Heart Chapel. He knows the night the limo went into the ravine, the driver of the hearse was Curtis Jr., who believes Tyler is his father. Tyler isn't sure about that.

Everett's job is to make sure Tyler doesn't escape. He takes Tyler's crutches and makes sure he takes his meds. But Everett's also been dosing himself with oxy. This morning Everett reeks of beer. He gives Tyler his pill, checks his mouth to make sure he swallowed it.

Tyler has no wish to escape. He's content here, doesn't object to being drugged. He's been having dreams—including an erotic one about Freddi. His working theory is that Freddi, not Everett, is behind his captivity. He remembers her being here early on, instructing Everett. He wanted to talk to her, to assure her he's forgiven her and Curtis Jr. for the accident.

Tyler figures the simplest solution for Freddi would be to kill him and bury his body. He should probably be planning his escape. But he doubts Freddi would go that far. They'd been in love once.

Everett asks if Tyler's hungry. Tyler lies back, feeling the pill kick in. When he opens his eyes again, Everett has a bag of McDonald's. Tyler eats Tater Tots that are unbelievably delicious. He confesses what he really wishes for: a guitar. A melody has been flitting at the edge of his consciousness. Everett says he'll mention it to her—the first time he's alluded to Freddi. Tyler asks for his phone back, to record the melody. Everett snorts: she'll never let him have that. But he offers a tape recorder instead. Tyler decides right then that he won't be shooting Everett.

Deb at the Coffee Shop

Late in the morning, Deb meets the chief at Mountain Cuppa. She's chosen it so they can talk without being overheard. She slides over her letter of resignation. Instead, he says he'd prefer she tear it up and become Stone Mountain's next chief of police. She tells him she's thinking law school, funded by Tyler Sinclair's foundation. The chief winces at her faith that Tyler will follow through.

Deb says there are things going on she doesn't understand, rumors about the Mountain. She asks him to tell her she's full of shit about every rumor—about Tim Dockery, about how the chief looked the other way. Most of all, she wants him to tell her that on the night of the accident, he hadn't already been down in the ravine, that he didn't already know what she'd find. Tears stream down her cheeks. He hands her a handkerchief. "I can't accept this, Deb. You're my best officer." As he leaves, he asks if she's been in touch with Tyler. She says no. He nods, scratching his chin. "Same thing happened to me."

That night, Deb's mother tells her she went out to the chapel today to attach an UNDER CONTRACT rider to the For Sale sign, and she could've sworn she heard music coming from inside. "I must've been imagining it."

Inside the Chapel

When Tyler surfaces this time, it's audio only. Freddi is telling Everett off—people can hear his truck coming a mile away. The realtor was there yesterday. Freddi asks how many oxys Everett is taking. "Do you want him dead?" "I go back and forth on that," she says.

Everett mentions the song Tyler's writing. Freddi softens. She knows why he wanted the guitar. They discuss the tape recorder. Freddi warns Everett, "You're not here to be his friend, you know."

Then Freddi is very near. "Tyler," she whispers. "Wake up." When he feels her lips on his, he opens his eyes. "Hi," Freddi says. "Remember me?"

She has his phone and is playing messages from Curt. Seventeen times he's called. Freddi mimics him mercilessly. Tyler asks if he can text Curt, just to let him know he's okay. Freddi chuckles. She says, "He loves you more than he loves me."

Freddi wakes him again. She's listened to his new song. Then she asks if he knows whose guitar he's been playing. "What if I told you it's your son's?" She never told Curt about how she and Tyler were fucking that whole time; she never told him that Curtis Jr. is maybe Tyler Jr. Tyler makes a mental note of the word maybe.

She asks what he's sorry for—for fucking her back then and leaving without saying goodbye, for never wondering if she was okay or if she was knocked up. "Yes," Tyler says. She has him by the chin because he drifted off again. He'd meant to assure her he won't tell anybody about Curtis Jr. driving the hearse. "You're damn right, you won't. Why do you think you're here?" She sets his phone down on the altar. Tyler has an intuition: they're keeping his phone in the tabernacle.

Freddi touches his cheek. "Tell me. Was it as good as you remember?" Yes, he thinks but doesn't say. Overwhelming shame prevents him. When he opens his eyes again, Everett is standing where naked Freddi had been, holding a pizza box. Tyler realizes he's crying. Everett sighs. "Between us? I don't like her much, either." They eat noisily. Then Everett cocks his head. "Question. How come your gym shorts are on backwards?"

Curt at the Amusement Park

Curt has come to the abandoned amusement park to say goodbye. He strolls among the familiar rides—the Ferris wheel, Snap the Whip, the merry-go-round, and the bumper cars that he and Tyler loved and Freddi hated.

He finds himself standing before the Tilt-A-Whirl. Studying the faded carriages, his gaze turns inward. The carriages turn bright red and lurch into motion, and there are eighteen-year-old Freddi and Tyler, kissing. He has relived this moment for two decades; it guts him every time. Tyler apologized, claimed he didn't know what came over him. Curt accepted, of course. What he couldn't shake was his own sense of complicity.

Now, before the decrepit ride, the dark suspicions surface again. Maybe the romance hadn't ended on this ride. Maybe Tyler got what he wanted and left because he knew he'd never become Tyler Sinclair if he stayed. Curt doesn't know what to believe anymore. Maybe it isn't the amusement park he's come to say goodbye to. Maybe it's Tyler.

His phone vibrates. The caller is Tyler.

Deb at the Gate

Deb spots the chief's SUV parked along the chain-link fence. She sees him over by the Tilt-A-Whirl, looking perfectly wretched. She's about to slink away when he pulls out his phone, his face lighting up briefly then darkening with confusion. The call is deeply upsetting. When it ends, he stands there staring at his phone.

She calls out to him. He arrives on his cell again, holds up a hand to silence her. She hears him say he just got off the phone with him. Then the call drops. "Freddi? Freddi? Goddamn it." He asks Deb what she's doing there. "Did he call you, too?" He climbs into his SUV, pulls away slowly, pauses at the main road. His signal never comes on. She fears he doesn't know which way to turn.

Halfway Home

Halfway home, Deb's mother calls.