"Oh," Joey says flatly. "Well, serves me right I guess, for being that girl." "What girl?" Dawson wrinkles his brow in confusion. "The girl who rents the movie the night before an all-important paper is due because her debilitating Attention Deficit Disorder's gotten in the way of her actually reading the book," Joey explains. Dawson chuckles wryly. "Since when are you that girl?" Joey explains that between taking care of her nephew Alex and turning her home into a B&B, she hasn't had a whole lot of time for "that pesky endeavor known as schoolwork."
Dawson's missed a beat, though. "B&B? I thought you worked at the marina." Joey shakes her head. "What happened?" he asks, but she dismisses it. "That's a long and exceedingly soapy story, Dawson." Sensing she doesn't want to get into it, he shrugs and begins restocking shelves with returned movies.
Seeing as they're playing catch-up, Joey seizes the opportunity to ask him all about Eve. "Has [she] helped you add any more crimes and misdemeanors to your record?" Dawson explains Eve left town, a fact which Joey seems secretly thrilled about. She thanks him for helping her and starts to walk out the door, lamenting the fact that she's "cloaked in failure."
Suddenly, a light goes on in that massive cranium of Dawson's. "Hold on!" he calls out to her. "You know what, Joey? What if I told you you didn't have to do the paper?" She stops in her tracks and turns around. "I'm listening." Dawson explaisn that after they got the assignment, he went up to Green and asked if he reallly wanted a "standard five pages of footnotes and cryptic encyclopedia passages chronicling the Salem Witch Trials or --"
"-- Let me guess? You, uh, sold him on the idea of making a movie instead?" Dawson nods and smiles. Joey returns the smile with a shake of her head. "Classic Dawson Leery," she states admiringly. "Here's the best part," he says. "Jen and Pacey are also excused from the paper as long as they lend me a hand tomorrow."
Joey's smile sours a little. "I guess my invitation got lost in the mail." He flushes with embarrassment. "I ... I would've invited you, I just --" "Forget about it," she interjects. There's an awkward pause, then Joey fills the silence by asking what the movie is about.
"Well, since we're reading The Crucible and we're studying the Salem Witch Trials, I figured, why not do a documentary based on something that happened right in our own back yard?" Dawson grins at her, waving his hands about in an attempt to look spooky. "Witch Island!"
"So, basically, you're ripping off The Blair Witch Project," Joey notes, sounding less than impressed. He's insulted. "I am insulted," Dawson replies (tee hee). "I'm making a real documentary. I want to try to use the myth of Witch Island to tell a larger story about hypocrisy and religious persecution." (Eh, call it what you want, it's still a wannabe BWP) "So, are you in?"
She gives him a convoluted speech about how if she blows off the paper, then she'll probably fail the class, and if she fail the class, it could be the beginning of a long and tragic downward spiral that dooms her to wait the tables of Capeside's greasy spoons for eternity, so ... "Count me in." Dawson smiles broadly.
Cut to the master filmmaker at work, interviewing Principal Green at his desk. "In the year 1692, 13 young woman -- well, teenage girls really -- were banished to a small island off the New England coast because they were suspected of practicing witchcraft," he tells the camera. "One night a year later, a fire raged out of control, killing them all."
Coach Mitch has a different perspective on the island. "Hands down, best high school make-out place ever." Uh, yeah, thanks for sharing. Next! Cut to (the about to be) ex-Mrs. Coach Mitch, who's being interviewed street-side. She giggles into the camera. "I think that's where your father and I made love for the first time," Gale reminisces fondly to her son. "God, Mom," Dawson groans from behind the lens, turning the camera away. Gale walks towards him, surprised. "Honey? Are you okay?"
Enough with the pre-interviews (for now, anyway). Outside of Capeside High, our original Fab Four stroll along the greens, discussing the indie horror flick Dawson's little movie-in-the-making is allegedly not supposed to be copying. "I gotta say, Blair Witch didn't do it for me," Jen begins. "I wasn't remotely scared, that girl was irritating beyond measure (hear, hear!) and I had to run to the snack bar in dire need of Dramamine." (which, for all you non pill-popping types, is a kind of medication used to counter motion sickness, which, for all you non-BWP viewers, tends to be a major side effect of watching this flick, due to the handheld (not so)SteadiCam technique of filming)
Joey admits she was scared. "There's no surprise there, Potter," Uncle Pacey condescends. "After all, you are quite the skittish kitten." He gives her a gentle hip-check to drive his point home, which she jokingly reciprocates. (Okay, hands up all of you who want these two together now!)
"I thought Blair Witch was groundbreaking," Son of Speilberg marvels. (Oh, you would. Then again, I kinda liked the concept of BWP too, so I'll shut up now. It's Dawson's character I don't like) "Hollywood laid to waste by a couple of guys with a camcorder. How cool is that?"
Pacey shakes his head. " Frankly, I think my father makes scarier movies with his home video camera. You guys want scary? Check out the Witter Family Christmas Project. Guaranteed to make your teeth chatter." (Yeah, the thought of Deputy Doug all decked out in red velvet, fur and leather boots ... I can see how that could frighten the weak-of-heart)
As the quartet enter the school, Jen takes the opportunity to make her stance on the subject perfectly clear: "You know, before we're off to see the witch, I would like to opine that there are no such thing as witches." "Here we go," Pacey rolls his eyes with a smile, and receives a playful thump from Jen for his troubles. "I say witch is just a buzz word for a girl who happens to follow her completely healthy, totally natural urges, and explore her sexuality. But see, you can't do that in school in the swingin' 1690s without getting the good townsfolk all up in arms. So what do these puritanical, impotent creeps do? Instead of reaching for the Viagra, they brand these girls as witches, they send them off to this godforsaken island to die a horrible solitary death." (I say if Eve is Jen's half-sister, then Gloria Steinham is their long-lost mother)
"Well, lucky for you, Jen," Joey says, "We live in a world where you can follow your natural urges without fear of persecution." (Ooooh!) A smirk crosses Pacey's lips, in anticipation of a possible catfight, but instead, Jen grins at Joey and tells her, with a sincere smile, that she's right: "I would've been so burned at the stake by now."
"Okay!" Dawson interjects, and eager to do a 180 from the where the conversation is seemingly headed, "I think it's time to set up for some interviews. Um, Joey, could you lend me a hand?" She agrees and he turns to the other members of his crew and brightly asks if they wanna go "assualt" some interviewees. Without waiting for a reply, he heads off down the hall, Joey in tow, as Pacey and Jen stay at her locker and watch.
"Ja vol, mein director!" Pacey teases. "Have fun, kids!" After watching them a moment, he turns to Jen. "Now doesn't that just warm your heart? Kevin and Winnie taking those first tentative steps back to The Wonder Years." (tee hee hee) Jen pulls out her phallic symbol for this episode (last week it was a popsicle, this week it's a lollipop) and begins sucking on it. "Actually," she tells him, "Iit just makes me really glad that you and I had the forethought never to hook up."
"Amen, Sister Christian!" Pacey enthuses, which is kind of a funny thing for him to say, considering where Jen lives. The un-couple continue to discuss the subject of their non-coupling as they walk towards Pacey's locker. "Why is that, do you think?" Jen asks. Pacey grins. "Well, if you look at the clinical research you'll find that the smart-ass sidekick? He never gets the girl."
"Awww," Jen teases, mirroring his grin. "No," Pacey explains, "The real reason there was never a you-and-me is because you and me, we don't need anything from each other." Jen frowns. "I'm sorry, I left my decoder ring back in the cereal box." (I guess that would be the one I said was on order from the secret society of former Capeside High homecoming queens in last week's summary!)
Pacey recounts that Jen, as "the girl whose wanton ways had her banished to the boonies," needed the affection of the "unblemished, small-town pureheart" to validate her in her oh-so-vulnerable time, while he, "as the perennial black sheep of the Witter brood," just needed the love and affection of a woman "whose drive and devotion would so shame me to the core that it would force me to get in touch with ... uh, I don't know ... shall we call it my inner achiever?"
"You and me, we're different," he finishes. "We're on a level playing field." Jen is impressed. "God, I thought that Dawson was good at deconstruction," she mutters as they exchange another sardonic-laced grin.
Elsewhere in the school, Andie has managed to corner Principal Green, who looks like he's in a hurry to be somewhere, anywhere, but right there with her. She asks if he has a moment, but he brushes her off with an abrupt, "Now is not the best time Miss McPhee" and keeps walking.
It isn't enough of a deterrent for our stubborn little friend. "I just want you to know that I take my appointment to the head of the disciplinary committee with the utmost seriousness and I am determined not to lose your trust," she gushes at him.
He briefly commends her for her "earnest attitude" then excuses himself again, but it's no good. He's been sucked into her orbit. "I just want to let you know that the last few weeks have been tumultuous, to say the least, but I'm pleased to report that I have my priorities in order." Principal Green nods and tells her he's glad to hear that, and suggests she check with him later, but her enthusiasm has gone into warp speed. "I'd like to run by a few ideas if that's all right?" Defeated (that easily? Hmph. Some principal ...), the principal opens his office door and extends his arm out, indicating Andie should enter. "Okay," she begins. "I've read the rules of conduct, prepared by the Board of Education, and ..."
In the quad outside school, Joey and Dawson are busily assembling a tripod and camera. Dawson confesses, "I can't tell you how much I've missed this," and she happily agrees, assuming he means the camaraderie between them. "I just ... I feel lucky," he continues, "Like ... like I've been able to recapture a feeling that I lost somewhere along the way." She nods, smiling broadly. "I know what you mean, it's like --" "I mean, granted, you know, it's only for a school project," Dawson finishes, "But it's ... it feels good to be making movies again."
Dawson obliviously busies himself with connecting the camera to the tripod, so he can't see her face fall at his words. After a moment or two of silence, Joey tells him in a very disappointed voice that she thought he was talking about them. He stumbles to cover. "Well that ... that, too. Obviously. I mean it, you know, I ... I miss the whole let's-make-a-movie bug thing, before things got so terminally angsty, but it's ..." Realizing his babbling is getting him nowhere, Dawson cuts to the chase. "I'm really glad we're friends again." With that, he moves a few feet away to a picnic table and misses Joey nodding miserably. "Friends ... right."
More pre-interviews. Grams tells the camera that three centuries ago, "harlots who were practicing witchcraft were banished to that island. And what happened there is proof positive that the good Lord doesn't take lightly to those who dabble in the black arts." Oooo-kay. Thank you, Church Lady.
Next we have Bessie, with Alexander perched on her knee, relaying the tale of a kid who disappeared on Witch Island during her high school years. "He was a big stoner. One of those guys who has Led Zeppelin IV playing in his head at all times, so everybody said he probably got wasted and drowned. I don't know." Looking a little embarrassed, she shrugs. "Some people say that the witches got him."
After that, we have some random Capeside High girl who's clearly a consipiracy theorist, as evidenced by her (tacky, I think) "Who Killed JFK, Jr?" t-shirt: "Yeah, well ... kids just mysteriously disappear there over the years and they say it's the witches or whatever, but I think the CIA or the NSA has something to do with it. It's just like our government to come up with some occult back story to cover up their malfeasance."
That's a wrap for the pre-interviews, so now Capeside's own Scooby-Doo Gang (minus the dog, of course, and I'll leave it up to you to figure out who's who) head over to the pier to take a boat ride over to the island. "Nobody brought snacks?" Pacey laments. "Oh, come on, guys! What's a field trip without the snacks? Nobody brought the Doritos? The Ho-Hos? My kingdom for a Coke wrapped in tin foil!" (because it keeps it colder longer, that's why.)
Dockside, Dawson whips out his camcorder and asks the guy who's going to be ferrying them over to the island (and Mitch's boat would be where, exactly? Unless it's still off-limits after the Great Leery House O'Strippers Fiasco, of course) if he can ask him a couple of questions. "I'm making a movie," he (needlessly) explains. Ferry Dude obliges, only if Dawson will return the favour. He pulls out a camcorder of his own and begins filming before Dawson can open his mouth in protest. "So, uh, what's your movie about?"
"I'm making a documentary on Witch Island," Dawson answers cautiously. "What's your movie about?" "I'm making a documentary about all the people making a documentary about Witch Island. Ever since Blair Witch hit, every geek with a camcorder and a dream's been out here, so with a little luck, this baby will get me on the festival circuit, right?"
Dawson and Ferry Dude eye each other like a pair of vultures circling a fresh corpse. "Yeeaaahhh," Dawson frowns. "What can you tell me about Witch Island?" Now it's Ferry Dude's turn to frown. "You know, you kids think it's all spooky fun and kitschy cool and all that, but just don't get so caught up in your Scooby-Doo adventures (hey!) that you get stuck out there past dark."
Jen rolls her eyes. "Oh come on, we don't scare that easy." Apparently, Ferry Dude might be a can or two short of a six-pack, cause he takes great offense to Jen's scoffing. "She callin' me a liar? You callin' me a liar? Is that what you're saying? Huh? Listen, girls died out there. You don't think they're a little, uh, ticked off about what happened all those years ago? You think they're above, uh, taking their anger out on an errant teeny-bopper or two every once in a full moon, huh? These girls ... sometimes they just, uh, they can't control their natural urges, you know?" (Yeah, she knows ...) With that, the boat pulls out of the dock at Capeside ...
... and pulls into the dock at Witch Island (after our regular five-minute commericial break, of course) A frumpy, owlish looking twentysomething greets them, and announces she's Wendy Dalrymple of the Capeside Historical Society. "I'm here to answer any questions that you may have about Witch Island, which, I'm ashamed to say, represents a particularly dark period in our nation's history."
"Oh, good God," Jen mutters. Pacey asks if there's a snack bar handy cause he's famished and "cameraman over there decided to cancel the 7-11 run before we got on the boat." Wendy tells him he can find refreshments at the gift shop, "young man," (she's all of what, five years older than him?) along with "a lovely selection of our witch-themed souvenirs." "Oooh, I like souvenirs," Jen exclaims and jumps out of the boat.
Wendy speaks to the body-with-a-camcorder-where-a-head-should-be in front of her. "Making a little movie, are we?" she asks in a supercilious voice. "He's ripping off The Blair Witch Project," Joey informs her. "Seen it," Wendy responds. "Come with me, I'll take you to the cemetery. Goes over real well with you filmmaker types. It's got a lot of atmosphere."
From behind the camera, which is focussed on Joey's back as they traipse towards the graveyard, Dawson calls out to Joey. "Hey, Joey, you realize that Blair Witch was fake, right? Whereas my documentary is real." Joey gives him a "give it UP" look and continues walking.
Pacey and Jen have decided to sit the cemetary trip out, and instead, have taken a detour to the Witch Island gift shop. "Pacey, check this out," Jen calls, holding up a book entitled Charms, Spells and Formulas. (and I thought Blair Witch stick-bundle fridge magnets were bad)
"Has that wicked crush got you down?" Jen reads. "Do you stare at him for hours without getting so much as a glance in return? Do you ever call and hang up? Rifle through his garbage? Has the thought of disfiguring his girlfriend ever crossed your mind? Stalk no more, ladies -- this handy dandy incantation will turn the object of all your sugary affections into a lovesick puppy dog."
"Uh, dream on, Lindley," Pacey snickers. "What, you don't think it'll work?" she challenges. He snorts contemptuously. "Well, not to be a naysayer -- no, actually, to be a naysayer -- my belief in the power of spells is somewhere up there with my belief in the validity of sea monkeys." Hey! I bought those from the back of an Archie comic when I was seven. Nothing happened. :(
Jen plops a witch's hat on her head. "I'm gonna try it," she announces with a twinkle in her eye. Pacey looks amused. "On whom?" "You." "Me?" "Who better?" Jen replies. "You're not attracted to me in the slightest." "Not in the least," he agrees.
"Ouch." That sound you hear is Jen's ego being deflated like a blow-up doll's owner's wife who just walked in on him in mid-use. "No, no, no," he assures her, "I didn't mean it like that. You are certainly quite the little uber-vixen and I am nothing if not fond of you, but you're just not my type." She smiles. "Right back atcha, man."
Apparently, that remark hit home, too, because Pacey takes on a moody, defensive tone with her. "I'm brooding and comely." Jen smiles again. "I'm sure that you score way high on some girl's cute-o-meter, Pace. Just not mine." "I'm a better catch than Ty the Bible Beater or that ... that skirt-chasing Neanderthal Chris Wolfe!" (Hey now, stop that ... he's very, very different on Roswell)
Jen's smile erupts into a full-fledged giggle. "This from the guy whose last two relationships have ended with the girl either leaving town to avoid prosecution, or cool out in crazy camp for the summer." Now it's Pacey's turn to say "Ouch."
Over in the cemetery, Wendy leads Dawson and Joey in a tour through the graves -- he's filming as she's observing. After a moment, Joey turns to Wendy. "There are only 12." Dawson stops a moment. "What?" "Well, there were 13 witches, Dawson. Thirteen girls were sent here and there are only 12 graves."
"Smart girl," Wendy pipes up. "Nobody ever picks up on that. Her name is Mary Waldeck." "What happened to her?" Dawson asks from behind the camera. Wendy tells them her body was never found. "No one knows for sure what happened, but there are two distinct schools of thought. For those that like a good ghost story, well, they believe that she really was a witch and she haunts the island to this day. But, for those romantics out there, they believe that her lover came and took her away from this awful place."
"Her lover?" Joey repeats. "Yeah," Wendy nods. "I'll give you the Cliffs Notes. Mary was an orphan. She was taken in by a family called the Bennetts and raised alongside their own son, William. William and Mary got along famously, so much so in fact, that in time they fell in love. One night, Mary and William were found in bed together. This did not go over well with the God-fearing Bennetts, and in the blink of an eye, Mary was no longer their daughter. She was a witch."
As Joey whispers how horrible that must have been, Wendy recounts what it must have been like for poor Mary. "This is a young girl -- no older than you -- put on trial, banished to some godforsaken island for crimes she didn't even nderstand, much less commit. She was separated from the love of her life. And I think that that's what makes this island such a charging place. Because if you've ever loved somebody that you couldn't be with, you can feel it in the air ... the sadness, the longing, the uncertainty."
Instead of focussing on Wendy during this little speech, Dawson directs his camcorder towards an unsuspecting Joey, who has spent most of the preceeding paragraph looking uncomfortable and sad. She suddenly turns to face him. "Are you taking this down, Dawson?"
Dawson jerks his head out from behind the camera. "What do you mean?" he blurts, unsure if Joey is referring to Mary and William or herself and him. She looks at him incredulously, in disbelief that he, once again, just doesn't get it. And then she does it, she goes and ruins an already-weak episode by dredging up the s-word again: "Soulmates torn apart by circumstances beyond their control, doomed to wonder what might've been. There's your movie."
The two of them stare at each other silently for a bit, each trying to figure out what the other is thinking, until finally Dawson breaks the silence. "What about the fire? Where did that happen?" "Through the woods," Wendy says. "At the church." Excited, Dawson asks if she can take them there because he'd love to get some footage.
"No," Wendy replies curtly. "Because I never, ever, go into the woods. And if you kids are smart, you won't either." Of course, she can't help but add that if they do decide to go, they have some maps in the gift shop. (Hmph. So much for her concern for their safety)
Cut to the gift shop, where Jen has inexplicably managed to accumulate the necessary ingredients -- and a cauldron, no less -- to cast her spell, amid about 300 lit white candles (which would make that room insuffrably hot, but that's beside the point). Stirring her witch's brew, she reads the spell from the book: "Lights low and feet on the floor, chant these words to make him yours: Darsabaluth ... demotifka ... demoktiva ... renachicka ... bleeth."
With that, she scoops a mugful of the concoction out of the cauldron and drinks it down, then holds the mug out to Pacey. "Your turn." His face registers surprise. "Excuse me? I'm sorry, it sounded like you said something about me consuming that Godawful muck."
"It says right here that both myself and the object of my affection must ingest of the potion for the spell to work," Jen insists. "No, no, no, no, no," Pacey equally insists. "Please?" she begs. "Pretty, pretty, pretty please?" (he better swallow it this time, because I'm getting sick of all these multiples) "You don't have to swallow the branches, I promise."
"Fine." Pacey decides to humour her. "Fine. But Lindley, payback is gonna be a bitch." He knocks back the potion in one gulp. "How do you feel?" Jen asks eagerly. "Less than fresh," he frowns.
Just then, Wendy enters with Dawson and Joey in tow, furious at the two children playing before her with their Easy-Bake Cauldron. "What is going on in here?" she fumes. "Just a couple of crazy kids practicing a little bit of black magic," Jen grins. "Yeah," Pacey echoes. "You know --" "You shouldn't mess with things that you don't understand!" Wendy exclaims, storming past the quartet into a back room. Dawson and Joey follow wordlessly behind her.
"Here," she says to Joey, offering her a map. "This will take you through the woods and to the church. And, oh yeah ... don't get lost because it's very dark, it's very dangerous, and there's an excellent chance that you will never be seen or heard from ever again. Okay?"
A few minutes later, our fearless foursome are walking along in the Witch Islands woods, trying to rationalize all the assorted folklore they've been fed that day. "Take that Mary Waldeck girl, for example," Jen hypothesizes. "Was she a witch? I think not. Sounds like she just had a bad case of the warm and fuzzies." "It's too heartbreaking for words," Joey says, sounding a little warm and fuzzy herself.
Dawson doesn't see it that way, though, and tells her he couldn't disagree more: "It clearly illustrates how love can thrive even in the worst of circumstances." (Me to Dawson: here's a big fat HA! for you) "Yeah, and look what happened to her," Joey points out. "Nobody knows what happened to her," he counters, but Joey shakes her head and says she thinks it's safe to assume that Mary died a very sad and lonely death, separated from the one boy she ever loved. (Gee, feeling a bit sorry for ourselves, are we there, Jo?)
Again, Dawson takes the opposite perspective. "No," he shakes his head. "I don't buy that. If two people are truly, madly, deeply in love, they'll figure out how to be with each other." "They were young," Joey argues. "They were split up for a long time, maybe ... maybe he forgot about her, maybe he met someone else." According to Dawson's logic, Joey's just proved his point: "If he didn't meet somebody else and forgot about her than obviously they were never meant to be in the first place. See my point?"
Her eyes blaze at him. "Could you be any more naive?" "Could you be any more cynical?" Jen decides to put her two-cents worth into the mix. "Could you be any more irritating? Pipe down, you guys. We're here." The four of them arrive at a dilapidated old church, where Pacey asks what the odds are that there's a bathroom inside, seeing as he " went a little heavy on the witch's brew." He walks off into the woods in search of a tree to water.
Meanwhile, back in civilization, Andie is trawling the halls of Capeside High, looking for any and all Code of Conduct violators. She sets her sights on a typical teen wearing a rather revealing mini-dress. Andie gives her the once-over. "Spaghetti straps and open toed shoes? Not on my watch."
Warden McPhee hands the girl a citation and sets out in search of her next victim. She finds it in the form of a leather jacket-clad guy, who had the misfortune to cover the inside of his locker door with photos of scantily-clad woman. "Inappropriate display of the female form!" Andie barks. "Statute 97.1. Offensive and disgusting." The offender receives a citation for his inappropriate choice of wallpaper.
She hurries off down the hall in pursuit of a rocker-dude carrying a guitar. "Excuse me! Excuse me!" Rocker-dude turns around. "In case you didn't know, Elvis has most definitely left the building, and in his absence, there will be no sideburns creeping past the earlobes." She thrusts a citation at rocker-dude. "Rules of conduct, baby. Read em, learn 'em, live 'em." Andie marches off down the corridor, oblivious to the admiring glances of one Belinda McGovern, ex-ex-head cheerleader and renter of The Crucible.
Back at the church on the island, Fred, Velma and Daphne -- oops, my bad. I mean, Dawson, Joey and Jen enter the church where Dawson relays the words of an historical marker on the wall. "Listen to this," Dawson tells the girls. "The townspeople built the church because they thought it would help the girls find God. They sent a minister over every Sunday, but the girls would just tease him so mercilessly eventually he gave up and stopped coming."
"I could hang with those girls," Jen nods, impressed, then lowers her voice an octave and mutters to herself, "I wonder if Pacey loves me yet?" (I thought that was cute)
"They were murdered," Joey states flatly. Dawson looks up, surprised. "Beg your pardon?" Joey reads from the marker. "It says here that a group of men from the mainland treated the island like their own personal brothel. When word got out, the Bible thumpers got together and decided enough was enough and then an angry mob came, corralled the girls into this church, and set it on fire."
"And that's when William must've run off with Mary," Dawson nods. Joey's eyes narrow suspiciously. "Hold on, Romeo. Why are you reading into this all of a sudden? How do you know that William didn't light the torch?" "Uh, I don't know ... maybe cause he loved her?" Dawson snaps.
Joey won't buy it, especially in light of the way things are between Dawson and herself at present. "How do you know he was such an enlightened male, Dawson? I mean, if the whole town thinks your girlfriend's a witch, maybe it's just easier to go with the flow." "That's not the story I'm interested in telling," he says stubbornly. Joey informs him that a good documentarian looks at the story from all possible angles, not just from the perspective of his "coy and annoying world view."
Like the rest of us, Jen is bored silly with the double-speak and not-so-subtle insinuations. "Hey, has Pacey showed up yet?" she buts in, anxious to change the subject. "Not since he went out in search for the perfect tree," Joey replies. Dawson is concerned they should be getting back soon, because it's starting to get dark. Jen takes charge. "I'll go find him. You two go back to that boat guy and make sure he doesn't leave without us and we'll meet you back at the docks."
As they walk back to the docks, the Clueless Wonder himself asks Joey why his optimism has her so irked. She tells him sourly that his optimism isn't the problem, then asks softly, "What's going on with us?" (Oh no, here we go yet again ...) Dawson grows exasperated. "Joey, this is not the time or the place to run through an exhaustive dissertation on the state of our relationship." (Okay, to quote one of my favourite lines from Friends, "Hello? Pot? This is the kettle calling ... YOU'RE BLACK!!)
"Right," Joey replies bitterly. "You know, we should just stand back and watch it crumble around us. We'll just deal with it when it's more convenient." "We're friends," he says. "Why can't we just leave it at that?" "Friends." The word hangs in the air like a death sentence. He nods. "Yeah. You take away everything else that we are and that's what we are. We're friends."
Joey icily says he can't just will a friendship into existence, a statement which confuses our hero. "You know, I give up, Joey. For the first time in my life, I have no idea what you're talking about." "Of course you don't," she tells him, her voice getting frostier by the word. "What do you know actually know about my life these days, Dawson? I mean, think about it -- do you know how I lost my job? How I did on my PSAT's? How the Potter sisters are eking out their meagre living? And you know, I don't know a thing about your life right now, either."
He apologizes for being distant, but he thought that's what they needed. Joey feels a bit badly for snapping at him just then, and explains the reasoning behind her seeming animosity, citing the last year of her life as a "wide-awake nightmare of conflicting emotions." (Yeah ... sigh ... tell me about it)
"But no matter how bad it got, there was always one thing that kept me going. Us," she continues. "Our bond ... our connection ... whatever you want to call it. It made me feel like I wasn't alone, like I ... I was part of something special. So, I'm not standing here whining about being friends or not being friends. It's just that ... for the first time in my life, I'm not feeling that connection any more." She looks at him sadly, her voice barely a whisper. "And it scares me."
The roar of the boat's engine distracts them from Joey's confession, and they sprint the rest of the way over to it. "Wait!" Joey shouts as Ferry Dude is about to pull away. "There you are! Great. Get in, let's go." Joey tells him they can't leave yet because they got split up from their friends.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Ferry Dude condescends. "Didn't I warn you guys about getting stuck out there past dark? I'm pretty sure I did." (At this point, I don't know why Dawson didn't push the smug bastard overboard and commandeer the boat for himself, unless the thought of being on a speedboat again with a female, let alone the female being Joey, was potentially too much for him to subconsciously handle)
Dawson pleads with Ferry Dude to stay, insisting Pacey and Jen will be there any minute, but no dice. "No. Nuh-huh. No way," Ferry Dude says. "I'm not staying. Weird things happen out here at night, man. So you come with me now, or I can come back in the morning and find out who's still alive." Dawson explains again they can't leave without their friends, but Ferry Dude isn't interested. "Fine," he answers as the boat speeds away. "I warned you guys. I told you, whatever you do, don't go in the woods!"
In those very woods, Pacey and Jen are walking along companionably, their path lit by a flashlight. "Do you feel it yet?" Jen asks eagerly. Pacey says, "Feel what, exactly?" and Jen replies "the spell" as if talking to a three-year-old. "Yeah," he tells her. "Yeah, I am starting to feel something. I think I'm starting to feel a little lost. That's what it is, lost."
A quick, uneasy smile darts across Jen's face. "Yeah, I know. I gotta say, the idea of a wholesome, Biblically-themed meal with Grams this evening isn't sounding too gosh-darned unappealing. I'd even consider saying grace. But instead I am traipsing around some haunted forest with the likes of you."
"Why am I always the bad guy, huh?" Pacey needles her. "Do I deserve this? I don't think so. What is it about me that inspires such vitriolic diatribes? Take Andie, for example. She goes away for the summer and sleeps with a mental patient. So I break up with her for conduct unbecoming a girlfriend, something which I think I was pretty justified in, yet somehow she manages to turn it around so that I feel like the creep at the end of the day. How does that happen?"
Jen thinks she can go one better than that, though. "Wait, you think you're the creep? Just wait till some sweet, innocent freshman gets a crush on you and then you accidentally on purpose break his smitten little heart, thus derailing his love life forever."
Pacey sighs. "You know, love has this horrible habit of messing everything up." "That it does," Jen muses. Pacey casts a sideways glance at her, testing the waters. "But sex is nice." Jen's a tad taken aback by his frankness. "Yes, it is." "Yes, it is." He repeats. "Sex good. Love bad. You toss it into the wok, it messes the whole thing up." Jen agrees, so Pacey decides to see how much he can get away with. "I'm starting to think that casual sex is maybe the way to go."
"Sex is never casual, Pacey," Jen admonishes. "Perhaps," he concedes. "But what if both partners agreed to the terms beforehand?" "Like a pre-nup?" Jen suggests. "Yes! Exactly," he smiles. "Like a pre-getting-busy agreement. I'm just thinking out loud here, but the concept of two horny teenagers coming together for some gleefully nasty coitus and parting as friends is positively revolutionary in this day and age." (Oh Good Lord. No it is not ... the writers on Seinfeld did it about five years ago, although the characters involved weren't teenagers. They just acted like them)
"Sounds killer in theory," says Elaine -- I mean, Jen. "No guilt," offers Jerry -- I mean, Pacey. "No head games," she adds. "No bad mix tapes," he continues. "I hate those." (Awww, those are half the fun and almost a pre-requisite for teenage sex) Then, Josh Jackson really proves the depths of his acting ability, because he manages to deliver the second-cheesiest line of the episode with a straight face: "You know, this may be the witch's brew talking, Lindley, but you are starting to look all kinds of cute."
Joey and Dawson have decided to seek refuge in the gift shop, where Joey passes the time by reading Mary Waldeck's journal, which is apparently one of the many "witch-themed souvenirs" available for purchase: "Another day goes by without word from William. It's been but a few weeks time since I arrived on the island, yet it feels like an eternity. This time apart has me wondering if our bond was but an illusion."
Still stinging from her earlier criticisms, Dawson seizes the opportunity to completely contradict his earlier "this is not the time or the place to run through an exhaustive dissertation on the state of our relationship" statement and whine to her, "Is that what you think, Joey? That our relationship was some sleight-of-hand magic trick you made to fill up some hole in your life?"
Personally, if I were his so-called 'best friend' the way Joey professes to be, I'd pop him one for even daring to insinutate such an insult, but she settles for a more passive route. "Look, I didn't say that, Dawson," she says sharply. "Don't put words into my mouth." "I don't have to," he replies, sounding more smarmy and sanctimonious than ever. (Y'know, I'm really beginning to wonder what she sees in him ...)
Again, she skips over the urge to slap him, exhibiting an admirable level of self-control. "Dawson, don't you ever wonder where this is going, where we are exactly?" For her soul-bearing (uh-oh ... I used the 's' word), risk-taking question, she gets a mere shrug for an answer. "I mean, is this just the first act or has our story ended and we're just too stupid to realize that?"
"Why do we have to figure all that out right now? What's wrong with just living the present for once?" "Because the present sucks, Dawson," she tells him bluntly. "I mean, excuse me for thinking back and looking forward, but I'm just trying to make sense of what's happened to us." Finally, a small breakthrough. "Jo," Dawson says with some degree of warmth, "Joey, once upon a time you yourself told me that some love stories never end. What happened to that girl?"
"She offered herself to the boy she loved -- the boy she thought loved her back -- and he rejected her." Ouch. (for both of them) Dawson speaks softly. "Joey, listen to me. If we are truly meant to be, then we will find our way back to each other. It's as simple as that."
Joey asks if he's sure about that, and reads again from Mary's journal: "I fill my days with memories of him. I remember how he used to look at me, as if I was his most valuable treasure. Has he found a new treasure? I can't help but wonder if we will be able to find our way back to each other. The road before us seems so very long and my head is clouded with such dark thoughts. I feel our bond grows weaker by the day, and I'm powerless to stop it."
She's interrupted by the loud, hollow clanging of the church bell. "That's probably them," Dawson says, referring of course to Pacey and Jen, and breathing an inner sigh of relief at having been literally saved by the bell from any continued "exhaustive dissertations." As Dawson and Joey leave the gift shop, they are watched through the trees by a slightly whacked-out looking Wendy Dalrymple (who, for some reason, (which I personally think explains a lot of the plot development of the next 10 minutes) is still on the island, despite her preaching about never staying there after dark)
The two couples meet up inside the church. "Hey, you rang?" Pacey greets his friends, but Dawson frowns, telling him he thought they rang. "We didn't rang," Jen answers. "Somebody rang," Joey insists, and for some reason I can't get the image of Lurch from The Addams Family out of my mind.
"Well, this is mighty peculiar, people," Pacey looks mildly disconcerted. The others ask him what's wrong, and he points out there's no bell in the church. Sure enough, the four of them look up into the steeple and there's a great big empty space where a bell should be. "Okay, I'm now sufficiently wigged," Joey prounouces. (my favourite line of the episode!)
From a distance, the camera takes on the perspective of a heavy-breathing interloper who watches the four closely through the branches. It's meant to be scary, but personally, I think it's just weird ol' Wendy trying to teach them a lesson.
A little while, the four of them sit separately throughout the church, which has improbably been lit with tens of candles. (side note: What is it with the candles? Enough already! Can you spell "prop overkill?" I knew you could. Moreover, how did they get these things lit, all four being non-smokers and all and more than likely not liable to tout a book of matches around at all times)
Joey reads from Mary's journal again as Jen approaches. "How goes the seventeenth century soap?" she asks, and Joey tells her Mary has just received a letter from William. She begins reading. "November 10th, 1693." "That's today," Jen notes. (which, if we're going to be really nit-picky, isn't quite right -- the first air-date for this episode was November 17th ... sorry ... I'm a journalist, it's my job ...)
"That's also the anniversary of the fire," Joey nods, then continues reading. "A letter today from my beloved William. He has made me so happy. He says he's coming tonight to take me away from this Godforsaken prison, yet I am scared. He says there are those in town who feel we should be punished further for our crimes." Joey stops reading. "That's the last entry."
"So you think he came back for her?" Jen asks. "No," Joey replies. "He probably played her for a fool and, uh, took up with some well-bred hussy from the mainland." (An unnecessary dig, I thought, seeing as Jen is just trying to be conversational) "Come on, Joey," Jen chides. "Hop on the happy train. Sounds to me like those two were madly in love."
"You know, I hate to be one of those girls who mistakes pop lyrics for profound thought, but sometimes, 'Love Just Ain't Enough,'" (A-men, sister!) Joey says, choosing to quote one of the more annoying examples of "pop" lyrics she could have chosen to describe the occasion. (I'd've opted for "I Hate Myself For Loving You," if I were her)
"And I hate to be the one to burst this whole subtextual bubble that you're living in," Jen counters, "But do me a favor, Joey? Don't let somebody else's love life dictate your own."
Time for some boy-bonding. Dawson and Pacey sit together several feet away from their female counterparts, watching. "You're not filming anymore, hombre?" Pacey asks in an effort to rouse Dawson from his Joey stupor (and thus avoid hearing the word "soulmates" again). Dawson confesses he isn't feeling "particularly visionary" at the moment, then poses a question to his best friend: "Do you think I made a mistake?"
Pacey isn't following, though. "When and where?" "I told Joey that we needed some time apart," Dawson explains, while Pacey nods thoughtfully. "Do you think you made a mistake?" he asks, using the old reverse-psychology tactic we all know and love so well. "Not at first," Dawson admits, "But I look at her now, and I see how far apart we've drifted and I ... I don't know. I mean, what if I was wrong? What if we don't end up together and it's all my fault?"
"You wanna know what I see when I look at you, Dawson? For better for worse, I see a guy who consistently wears his heart on his sleeve. So no matter how harsh it may seem in retrospect, when you decided to put some distance between yourself and Joey, I know all you were doing was just following your heart. And with that in mind, I really don't think it's possible for you to have made a mistake," Pacey concludes (Oh, suuuuure. Don't tell me you weren't at all thinking of your OWN motives even a teensy, tiny bit when saying that, Pacey!)
Several hours later, the weird stalker-like thingie from outside creeps closer to the church as inside, Joey and Dawson sleep in the pews while Pacey and Jen shamelessly rip off Seinfeld. "So you honestly think we can pull this one off?" Jen asks, her voice a mixture of doubt and excitement. "I don't see why not," Pacey replies reasonably.
"You don't have any feelings for me, right?" Jen inquires. "None whatsoever," Pacey answers happily, then checks himself. "No ... no offense, of course." "None taken, of course," Jen nods. Pacey asks if she has feelings for him. "Hardly even think aboutcha," she admits, and he grins. "You gotta love that."
Jen wants to know what they should do now. "Uh, should I take my pants off?" Pacey suggests, but Jen vetoes it, suggesting instead that they kiss first. Pacey thinks that's a good idea, and they settle down to business, or at least, try to. As his lips brush against hers, Jen pulls away.
"Wait," she says. "Is this the spell?" "I don't know, Lindley and I ... I don't care," Pacey replies, and then delivers the absolute, hands down, cheesiest line of not only the episode, but perhaps the season and very possibly even, the entire show: "All I know is that in November of 1999, four hyper-verbal teens wandered off in the woods on Witch Island to film some ridiculous documentary for history class, and eight hours later ..." his voice drops to a whisper "... two of them started making out." (excuse me, I need a bathroom, NOW)
Finally, they kiss, and after a short time, pull away. Pacey frowns. "That was --" "-- weird," Jen finishes. "Yeah," he nods, and suggests they try again. They do. "How 'bout that, more weird?" he asks after the kiss's completion. "Not so much," Jen tells him, and they begin to indulge in more intense lip-lock.
Suddenly, their make-out session is interrupted as all hell breaks loose in the church: loud banging and thudding noises, illegible scribbling on the walls, female voices chanting and shrieking and screaming, male voices yelling and shouting. Outside, low clouds of fire can be seen through the windows. The whole production is enough to sufficiently wig not only Joey, but Dawson, Pacey and Jen, too. They rush over to the door, but it's stuck. (of course)
"Open it up!" Dawson bangs his fist against the door. He's joined immediately by Jen. "Open the door!" Pacey pulls at it. "I can't get it open!" he shouts frantically. The noise, fire and chaos escalates as they tug and bang on the door, then a giant ball of fire from outside roars through one of the windows. After that, everything is perfectly still and silent.
Joey manages to open the door and they run out of the church. "Can we please just go home now?" Jen begs. Joey agrees. "Look, I don't care if we have to swim home, let's just get the hell out of here." Dawson takes on the attitude that there's got to be a logical explanation for what just happened, but when a bloodcurdling scream is heard from deep within the woods, he's not so sure anymore. "Okay, well why don't you send us postcards, because I, for one, am not sticking around to find out," Pacey tells him.
It only takes Dawson a nanosecond to change his view. "Let's go," he says and the four begin to run. When they reach the dock, there's a surprise waiting for them. "Hey, the boat's there," Joey says, which makes me wonder, number one, where the hell Ferry Dude is (probably in cahoots with Wendy to set the whole thing up), and, number two, if it isn't Ferry Dude's boat but another one instead, then why'd they bother with Ferry Dude in the first place?
Anyway, it doesn't seem to matter to them who left them the vessel. They jump in and eventually manage to get the engine going. "Go, go, go, go, go!" Joey urges, and they drive the boat madly away from the docks with Dawson filming the entire time.
That last little snippet of raw footage from the camcorder winds up as the last part of the film Dawson makes, which he presents to his history class in school several days later. "To be quite honest, I had envisioned a much more straightforward documentary on the history of Witch Island," he tells his classmates, "But I was surprised by what I found there -- a love story, pure and simple. Two soulmates torn apart by the social climate of their time. And while what happened to us is certainly open to interpretation, there's no disputing the fact that the island embodies the emotional turmoil of a girl who didn't know what the future held for her and the boy she loved."
Principal Green commends Dawson for his work; however, he feels compelled to add the film is "a tad derivative in the wake of the whole Blair Witch phenomenon." Still, he thinks it's inspired work nonetheless. "I particularly like the part where --" "Hey, man, what's that all about?" Principal Green is interrupted by a student who is scrutinizing Dawson's video footage closely.
Dawson looks at her, puzzled. "What?" "It looks like two people standing on the dock watching you go," the girl says, pointing to the video. "See? Look close." Dawson rewinds the last few feet of video, stopping at the point where the boat pulls away from the dock. On screen, there appears to be two shadowy figures standing on the dock, watching the visitors leave.
Before anyone can comment, a student rushes into the history class from outside and informs the principal that there's some sort of "situation" brewing. Cut to the caf, where Andie and her new sidekick, Belinda, are sitting behind a table, meting out punishment to the long line-up of Rules of Conduct violators before them. (Oh yeah, Belinda, that's a great way to get yourself back into the popularity books after falling from grace as head cheerleader -- begin handing out citations to your fellow students)
Andie reads the citation of a student who's just apprached the table. "Milling and making a filthy den in the library ... one week's detention," she pronounces, banging a small gavel on the table. "Next!" The principal asks her what she's doing. "Principal Green, I took your advice and I ran with it. I've teamed up with Belinda and we've taken the first steps towards improving the quality of life at Capeside," Andie tells him, with an air of satisfaction.
"What could all these students have possibly done wrong?" he asks her. "Each and every one of them was in direct violation of the rules of conduct," Andie replies. He stares at her incredulously. "The rules of conduct were prepared in 1957! Of course they're going to be in violation! Now, after you dismiss these students, I'd like you to stop by my office."
Later that night, Pacey is sleeping on duty at Screen Play when Jen enters the store, jangling a bell on the door which wakes him. She walks right over to her freshly-roused (and aroused, no doubt) friend, and asks him bluntly, "So. When are we gonna talk about it?" He blinks. "Talk about what, exactly?" "What happened out there." He looks antsy, not quite sure if she means the goings-on in the church, or the goings-on between them. "What did happen out there, Lindley?"
"I don't have any idea," Jen replies. "But I would just prefer if it didn't get in the ay of our ... experiment." "Perhaps we should take the shadowy, ill-explained events of our brief sojourn in the woods as something of an omen?" he suggests. "No." "No?" "No." Jen shakes her head. "If nothing else, that gooey little melodrama just proves that love just mucks everything up."
Pacey is delighted with this information. "So then your thinking would be that we should still have sex?" he asks hopefully. "Yes." "Well, all right then! Okay!" He stops, a worried look clouding his face. "Do you wanna do it right now?" "Um, do you?" Jen hedges her bets a little. Pacey admits he's a little tired. "Oh, fine," Jen says airily, adding that "Roswell's on in five minutes, anyway." (tee hee hee hee hee. It is, actually -- it's on right after DC. So that's what Chris Wolfe's been up to lately!)
Jen adds that Pacey should just let her know when he wants to do it, and she'll do it, too. (well, d-uh! That was sort of the point!) Pacey can't believe his good fortune. "Okay, so let me get this straight. If I'm ever in need of a ... release, you're just gonna help me out?" (hey, it sure beats doing all the work yourself, right Pacey?) "Exactly," Jen nods. "But, keep in mind it's a two way street."
"Of course," Pacey nods. "Well. That sounds fantastic." "Doesn't it?" Jen smiles. "It does." "Good." They look at each other in a sort of now what? way. "Should we, uh ... I don't know ... should we kiss on it?" "No." "No?" "No," Jen repeats. "Kissing is intimate and ... and we're not about intimacy." Pacey suggests they perhaps shake on it instead. They do. "Shaken," Jen announces crisply, as if they've just signed a business contract (which, in a way, they have), then walks away. Pacey is both confused and overjoyed. "It was good seeing ya," he calls after his new playmate's retreating form.
From new playmates to old ones, the scene shifts to Dawson's bedroom, where he and Joey are watching the last scene of his film over and over and over. There certainly are two blurry silhouetted figures on the tape, watching the quartet in the boat from the island, but their identities are anyone's guess.
"I mean, who else could it be other than Wendy and that boat guy?" Joey reasons. "I mean, he's a guy, she's a girl, they both had access to the island, they left the boat out there for us. I mean, it's the only possible explanation." "The only possible explanation?" Dawson suggests. Joey wants to hear his version.
"The girl is Mary Waldeck and the guy is William Bennett," he pronounces. "Look at those clothes -- that hat -- those are seventeenth century clothes if I've ever seen them!" Sure enough, it appears the blurred figures on tape are wearing some sort of historical costumes, something like a cloak and Pilgrim's hat on one, and a long, full skirt on the other.
"I think the crack habit has definitely come between you and your cognitive powers, Dawson," she insists. "Obviously, Wendy and the boat guy were screwing with us the whole time." (I'm with Joey on this one) "Sceptic." "Sucker." "Cynic." "Gullible." The teasing flies back and forth until Dawson admits Joey may be right. "Maybe we've seen The World According to Dawson one too many times and we should just slip out of the movie theatre into the harsh light of day," he sighs.
Joey shrugs. "I don't know, Dawson. I mean, maybe you're right. Maybe William and Mary found their way back to each other after all." "You think?" "It's just a thought." A quiet settles in between them, and during it, their conversation silently shifts gears. Dawson looks at his best friend of so many years and half-smiles sadly.
"Joey, I want to apologize." She wrinkles her nose in confusion. "For what?" "For taking our friendship for granted. I was wrong to think that we could just pick up right where we left off." She returns the half-smile. "Well, it's not entirely your fault, Dawson. I mean, look at us. We've spent years intellectualizing every little feeling and ... it doesn't count for anything. All that matters is what we do ... how we take care of each other, so ... so let's not talk this to death. Let's take it slow, and check in with each other every once in a while."
He smiles a bit more happily at her words. "That sounds immensely doable." "Good," she smiles back, then glances at the television. "I think this is one X-File we're never gonna close." He agrees ... unless they go back? "No." "Come on, Joey. A sequel?" (is he talking about their relationship or the movie?) Wisely, she suggests they just see how this one opens first. (Fast forward to episode 310 and you'll see)
"By the way," Dawson asks, casting a sideways glance at her. "How did you do on your PSAT's?" Joey grins from ear-to-ear. "Brilliantly," she replies cheekily. Their attention turns back to watching the clip of the mysterious figures on the island, as a whispered female voice-over warns "Watch out ..."
Fade to black ...