Original subtitles

Beyond Fact or Fiction,

hosted by Jonathan Frakes.

Tonight, your challenge is to separate what

is true from what is false.

Five stories, some real, some fake.

Can you judge which are fact and which are fiction?

To find out, you must enter a world

of both truth and deception, a world that is Beyond Belief.

A curious illusion.

To the naked eye, this appears to be a perfect triangle.

Yet here's the truth.

A disconnected shape, the two sides separated

by a significant space.

So it is with our stories tonight.

At first glance, they may seem connected to the truth

but viewed from the proper perspective,

your opinion might change.

We'll tell you which are real and which are

fake at the end of our show.

Judge carefully because, as always,

there are two sides to every story.

Or in some cases, it might be three.

Do you believe that dreams foretell the future?

Millions do.

Walk into any library, it's easy to find books on the subject.

Some cultures believe in the power of dream catchers.

Nightmares get caught in the webbing while you sleep

and only the good dreams filter through.

Deborah Wilkins could use a dream catcher these days.

She's having a dream that's most disturbing.

The nightmare returns night after night

and it's more than just frightening.

It's the kind of dream that can scare one to death.

Deborah!

I need your help.

Please don't.

I need your help!

Stop!

Stop!

Brian!

Morning, sir.

You have a good work out?

I felt comfortable and accepted by everyone.

I hated to spoil our idyllic lifestyle

with my neurotic dreams, but I had

to share my fears with Brian.

It was too upsetting to envision the man I loved being

murdered night after night.

I just couldn't keep it to myself.

Morning, Andy.

Morning, Mr. Wilkins.

Garden looks beautiful.

That's my job.

Morning.

You all right?

I had the nightmare.

Again.

The same man attacked you from behind

with the long bladed knife.

I still can't see his face.

Deborah, it's just a dream, nothing more.

I'm so afraid of losing you.

You're not going to lose me.

I'm yours forever.

Forever.

I love you, Brian.

No.

No, please.

No, don't.

No, don't hurt him, please.

Deborah, I need you to help me.

Brian!

Brian!

Brian, I saw him.

This time, I saw his face. - Calm down, honey.

Calm down. - No, no.

I saw him.

It was Andy, the groundskeeper.

He murdered you with a long knife.

You have to get rid of him.

He has to go.

Please, Brian.

Honey, let's try to be rational here.

Andy's been with the family for 20 years.

I admit, he's a little strange but he'd never hurt me.

Can you be absolutely sure?

Can you?

Andy, I have to talk to you.

Yeah?

Look, this isn't easy for me.

I've been having some financial problems.

Financial problems?

You?

What I'm trying to say is, I'm going to have to let you go.

I'm sorry.

What?

It's nothing personal.

It really isn't.

I just have to make some changes here.

Well, how come I'm the one that's gotta go?

I've been here longer than anybody?

Your daddy hired me 20 years ago.

I know.

I told you, I don't feel good about it.

You oughn't feel good about it.

It ain't right.

It just ain't right.

Look, I always done a good job for you and your wife,

hadn't I?

Well, hadn't I?

OK.

Take it easy.

I'll give you six months severance and references.

You can't afford to keep me on but you can afford

six months pay for no work?

That's the way it is.

I want you to leave today.

Fine.

I don't need your stinking references.

You look so beautiful today.

Have a good ride.

A little more skittish than usual.

Here, let me have him.

Easy. Easy, boy.

Easy. Easy, boy.

Easy, boy. It's me, Chestnut.

Easy, boy, easy. Whoa.

Easy. Whoa, whoa.

Whoa.

Easy. Easy!

No! No, easy.

Easy! Whoa, whoa.

No!

No!

Brian died of the wound inflicted by the hedge trimmer

that had been left in the bushes by Andy when he was dismissed.

My husband died just as in my dream, stabbed in the back

by our groundskeeper.

Deborah Wilkins never recovered completely

from her husband's death.

She continued to blame herself.

Of course, logic would tell us that her husband's

death was just accidental, a terrible coincidence.

But then how do you explain the recurring

dream that identified the gardener

as her husband's murderer?

Doesn't this go past coincidence, even past irony?

Is this story based on an actual happening

or are we simply leading you down the garden path?

A story based on fact or a work of fiction?

We'll tell you at the end of our show.

Next, another premonition and a deadly stalker.

Sometimes, the simplest of objects

can get us through periods of emotional pain.

Take this compact.

15-year-old Rena Newland is never without it.

It was a gift given to her by her father,

before his untimely death.

The small, uncomplicated little gift

has sustained her through the most

terrifying years of her life.

But Rena's terror is far from over

and the mysteries of what's contained inside this compact

are about to come to light.

It had been almost three years since the death of my husband.

He was an Air Force pilot who died in a training mission

over the Persian Gulf.

The loss devastated both my daughter and me,

but that wasn't the reason we moved cross-country

from New York to Oregon.

My husband's death had left me extremely vulnerable.

That's when I met another man, named Jeffrey Walker.

To my horror, Jeffrey turned out to be

a violent and abusive man.

When I tried to get rid of him, my life became a living hell.

He stalked me day and night.

Finally, Jeffrey was arrested and sent

to prison for assaulting me.

Don't you just love this place, the fresh air

and all the trees?

It's OK.

The experience with Jeffrey, coming right

on top of the loss of her father,

had left Rena with emotional scars.

I hoped we could start over, far away from the past.

Despite all my optimism, there was a strained relationship

between Rena and me.

And I couldn't help but feel guilty about what

my terrible relationship with Jeffrey had put her through.

It was about then that I noticed the odd light on the cabinet.

What's that, sweetheart?

It's the compact daddy gave me.

He told me we'd always be together.

I just looked inside.

He was right.

What's wrong?

I just get these bad feelings sometimes, like Jeffrey's

going to come back.

Rena, I told you, he's never going to bother us again.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that Jeffrey ever happened, baby.

I really am.

I felt so sorry for Rena.

She would go from periods of quiet isolation

to being an exposed nerve ending and I never knew when

the next explosion was coming.

I love you and I miss you.

Mom!

Mom!

What is it?

What's wrong?

What's wrong?

Mom!

It was Jeffrey!

He was right outside my window!

I don't see anyone.

I don't see him. Are you sure?

It was him. It was him.

He looked, he looked horrible.

I saw him in my compact mirror.

He was staring at me.

No, Rena. No.

He knows where we are.

- No, honey. - Yes!

No. You're sure?

Yes, you're absolutely sure?

OK. OK.

Yes, thank you for your time.

Rena, the man at the prison says that Jeffrey

is still locked up.

But I saw him.

I saw him!

I know, honey, but sometimes the mind plays tricks

and Jeffrey couldn't possibly have been here.

I know what I saw!

I know.

Two days later, Rena saw Jeffrey's reflection

in the compact mirror again and, just like the time

before, she became hysterical.

I called a psychologist, Dr. David Bloughshield.

Jeffrey obviously created some sort of trauma in her mind.

She has a great fear of him.

I'll just never forgive myself for bringing him

into our lives.

Well, Rena said that her father gave

her the compact before he died?

Yes, he did, and it means so much to her.

Yeah.

You know, it could be a contributing factor.

Maybe you should put it away for a while.

I'll do anything.

I just can't stand to see her go through this.

I understand.

Let's set up a session for next week.

Honey?

You didn't get the compact out of my drawer, did you?

No.

Why?

Nothing.

How's your homework coming?

Fine.

Well, if you need any help, let me know.

I'm going to go jump in the shower.

OK, Mom.

Rena

Seemed to be feeling uneasy, but that

was nothing compared to what we were both about to experience.

It was that light again, the same one I'd been

seeing for the last few days.

It seemed to be coming from Rena's compact,

but that didn't seem possible.

Hi, there.

Jeffrey?

Eleanor, you surprised?

I thought we could try a reconcilitation.

- How did you gtet out - Oh, it was easy.

Just like finding and calling your mother and told her

I was an old friend from high school.

Here I am in the flesh.

Jeffrey, you don't want to do this.

Oh, I do! I do!

No, no, please!

Stop it!

Look at us, back together again, just one

big, happy family.

The police extradited Jeffrey back

to the same New York state prison he'd

escaped from three days before.

Rena and I moved to another location

and have felt safe ever since.

And now, when Rena looks in the compact,

the only thing she sees is her face next to her father's.

How could Rena have possibly seen

the stalker's reflection while he was still thousands of miles

away?

Was it only her imagination?

If so, how do you explain his appearance so soon afterwards?

Was it a premonition of impending danger or was it

a warning sent by the spirit of a dead father, still

trying to protect his daughter?

Is this story of the strange mirror a series of lies,

or does it reflect the truth?

A story based on fact or a work of fiction?

We'll tell you at the end of our show.

Next, we continue our theme of dreams and revenge.

Have you thought

about buying a used car lately?

There are Lots of ways to do it, everything from visiting

the used car lots in person to surfing the internet,

but most people still rely on the hundreds

of listings in the classifieds and hand out publications.

Ronnie Mercer has been combing through these

of late for a bargain.

He's getting ready to start college

and his parents have promised him a car of his own.

But Ronnie's dream is about to unravel

and it may just turn out to be more

than he ever bargained for.

Bob Mercer was an honest, hardworking accountant

employed by John Cutler, a dishonest and devious boss.

I certainly couldn't ask for anything more,

except a smarter accountant.

For each of the last three quarters,

I asked you to write off those research costs.

Look, Mr. Cutler, as I indicated before,

those costs can't be claimed as research.

Isn't your son going off to college soon?

Yes, next month.

You have another chance to make it right, Bob.

The fourth quarter report can be a happy ending for everybody.

But those expenditures netted an asset,

which is a taxable event.

And--

How's this for an event, you pathetic bean counter?

You're fired!

And so Bob Mercer's career

at John Cutler and Associates was

ended, by John Cutler himself.

That night, Bob broke the news to his wife Susan.

I think it'd be best if I talked to him alone.

OK.

OK.

But the hardest part

would be to tell his son Ronnie, who'd been counting

on a new car paid for by dad.

In fact, it seemed that a car was the only thing

on Ronnie's mind.

Nice work.

How many does this make?

Stopped counting at 200.

Two hundred?

Wow.

What's wrong, Dad?

I was fired today.

Mr. Cutler fired me.

You'll get something better., Dad.

I know it.

We'll see.

But until I do, with school starting and now this,

I'm sorry but I think we're going have to wait on a car.

Well, it'll just give me more time to shop around.

Sir, for $1 this could be yours.

That night, Ronnie

would have the strangest dream of his life.

Looking for a used car, my friend?

Well, just $1 buys this beauty.

That's right, $1 drives this car off.

No down payment, no financing terms.

Just $1 $1.

$1.

$1.

$1.

$1.

For $1, this can be yours.

For just $1, this car can be yours.

Looking for a used car, my friend?

Well, just $1 buys this beauty.

That's right, $1 drives this car off.

No down payment, no financing terms, just $1.

$1.

$1.

The next morning, Ronnie couldn't

get the dream out of his mind.

I had a dream about the classifieds last night.

God, it was so weird.

I was in front of this huge house

and there was this car that was for sale out front.

And the most awesome part about it was it only cost $1.

No one sells a car for $1.

Stop dreaming.

But Dad, it was so real.

I'll be in the den.

I'll take the help wanted ads with me.

Mom!

Mom, One at this!

It's here.

Look at this. - Oh, come on, honey.

Your dad's right.

Nobody sells a car--

One.

For $1.

We gotta go.

Right now, let's go.

No, it's a mistake, Ronnie.

It's either a misprint or it's a joke.

There isn't even a phone number, Ronnie.

This was exactly like my dream.

Would you do me a favor and not mention this again, OK?

Your dad's got a lot--

Mom, we have to go right now.

All right.

OK, OK.

I will drive you.

It's going to be a big waste of time.

Come on.

When Ronnie and his mother

arrived at the address, Ronnie couldn't believe his eyes.

The house was just like the one in his dream.

Susan Mercer decided not to try and calm her son down.

He would learn soon enough that dreams

don't come true very often, especially

impossible car dreams.

The mother braced herself for the inevitable disappointment

that her son was about to experience.

It didn't seem to make any sense.

The woman at the door had invited Ronnie inside.

Susan was beginning to feel very strange

about the entire incident.

Mom, Mom, come see my new car!

There it was, the same shiny sports

car that Ronnie had described in his dream.

And from the way he was acting, he

had actually bought it for $1.

Ronnie ran off to use the car phone to tell his dad,

while Susan stayed behind to learn

exactly what was going on.

Your son is a delight.

Thank you.

I'm just not sure I understand what's going on here.

I mean, surely you're not--

Selling this for $1?

Why?

You think it's too much? - No.

I just don't get it.

Well, it's a story I'm sure you've heard before.

After 30 years of marriage, my husband is

trading me in on a newer model.

He was always afraid some creditor

would come after his beloved car, so it's in my name.

Selling it is going to break his heart.

In fact, he should be home from work any time now.

I hope your son enjoys this car as much as my husband did.

Oh. Oh, he will!

He will!

And who was the man who lost his most

precious possession for $1?

Where's my car?

Where is my car?

It was John Cutler.

Your precious car traded you in, John Cutler,

and for a much younger model, I should add.

But don't worry, I drove a very hard bargain.

The same John Cutler

who had fired Ronnie's father.

Was this just an astounding coincidence or did

young Ronnie want his dream car so

badly that he made it happen?

Can people control their own future by sheer force of will,

and what about the irony of his father's boss

becoming the victim of Ronnie's dream?

Is this story of the impossible used car deal based on reality

or have we traded in the truth for another lie?

A story based on fact or a work of fiction?

We'll tell you at the end of our show.

Next, another firing results in terror.

One of the pleasures of life for many people

is window shopping.

Mannequins like these, in creative poses,

provide hours of eye candy along some of the most

famous streets of the world.

Gerald Stanley has been dressing mannequins for over 25 years.

He treats them with respect and takes pride in his

every display.

Lately, Gerald has been a mentor for an eager assistant,

Craig Venton.

But some have noticed the assistant

is a little too eager lately.

His next move may put his mentor in a financial crisis

but before it's over, it will cost much

more than an arm and a leg.

Something's not right.

What do you think, Craig?

Yeah, I agree.

There's something off.

It just doesn't look right.

I love my job, and part of it was teaching the ropes

to green young kids like Craig. - That's it.

That's exactly what it needed.

You're a genius when it comes to the little touches, Gerald.

That's what it's all about.

Little touches make up the big picture.

I know I've told you this before,

but working for you has really been a great education for me.

Someday, you'll be a chief decorator somewhere

and then you can put all you've learned to good use.

Yeah, I'll definitely put it to good use.

Of course, I didn't know that Craig did

his best work behind my back.

Mr. Duncan, Mr. Duncan?

Yes?

Gerald's making the window look like Jurassic Park.

I mean, it's prehistoric, not to mention

it's taking him forever.

I hate to say it, but he's so far behind schedule,

he'll never be ready for the spring fling opening.

What?

Yeah.

Wait a minute.

What are you telling me?

Spring fling starts the day after tomorrow.

And Gerald is not ready?

No, I thought you should know, sir.

I can't delay that opening.

It'll cost us a fortune!

I don't want to start trouble, but I could

redo the entire window tonight.

And it would be more like the times we live in, you know?

Edgier.

Edgier?

Edgier. OK.

Edgier.

I don't believe this.

You want to give Craig Vinton the spring fling display?

He's just an assistant!

Listen, Gerald, you're falling farther and farther behind

in your work and, quite frankly, your displays

are somewhat old fashion.

Old fashioned?

Management wants something a little younger, hip.

You know, edgier.

And they don't think you could give us that anymore.

You're firing me.

I really don't have a choice.

After 25 years?

Sorry, Gerald.

It's business.

I took one last look at the figures in my shop.

They were almost like real people to me.

Craig wasted no time.

He dismantled my display before I even had the chance

to clean out my desk.

What are you doing to my troops?

These aren't your troops, Gerald.

They're just plastic dummies.

They're just tools for my art.

I'm creating something new, different,

something you wouldn't understand.

You know what you are, Craig?

You're a miserable, two faced, little suck up.

Yeah, but I get your job old man.

You--

Back off, Gerald or I'll call security.

There was so much I wanted to do and say,

but I had to maintain my dignity, if not for Craig

than at least in front of my figures,

the only true friends I had.

You'll be sorry you did this.

Yeah, right.

I'll feel real bad.

He was trying to hurt me by hurting them.

It was almost as if I felt their pain

at Craig's abusive treatment.

Craig couldn't wait to reveal his edgy new concept,

a wild display of disembodied body

parts scattered around the floor in eye catching poses.

What's going on?

Like Craig himself, his ideas were imaginative and creative,

and sick.

Where's the display?

I don't understand.

I worked on it all night.

It was here when I left!

It was beautiful.

I had pieces of mannequin everywhere,

with clothes draped over them.

It's Gerald.

I mean, it has to be him.

Look, I don't know what your game is,

but you've got a spring fling display by tonight

or you're out of here.

Yes sir.

I'll recreate it at once.

Craig thought I had sabotaged his display,

but I was out of town.

I don't believe this.

The maniac put them all back together again.

We may never know the truth, but this

is what Craig claims happened to him that night,

in a completely empty store.

How did that happen?

Gerald?

Gerald?

Where are you?

Come out and face me!

Gerald, where are you?

I know you're doing this to me.

I know you are!

Stop it!

Stop it!

Gerald?

Gerald, I know you're in here.

Come out and face me!

Gerald, where are you?

I know you're doing this to me.

I know you are!

Craig quit the next morning and I was reinstated.

Who could have possibly attacked Craig that night?

It couldn't have been me.

I was out of town.

Were Craig's problems with the mannikins just

a result of his own clumsiness?

If not, what could have possibly caused the mannequin's assault

on Craig?

Was a deposed Gerald controlling things from behind the scenes

or is the explanation more mystical?

Could it be the mannikins actually

had human feelings of hatred for their new dresser?

Do you think this story puts the truth on display

or is it merely window dressing?

A story based on fact or a work of fiction?

We'll tell you at the end of our show.

Next a mysterious tale of the Old South.

Southern hospitality, a genteel, refined way of life.

Of course, like all regions of our country,

the south has endured political, social, and sometimes

violent change.

Yet a quick visit to any southern city

reminds us that the concept of southern hospitality

is alive and well.

Our story tonight takes place before the time

of Scarlett and Rhett.

It evokes memories of warm southern breezes,

weeping willows, and things beyond belief.

As I write these words in my journal, it is the year 1806

and I'm looking back on a life honored

by my service to the United States of America.

I've been a calvary commander, held a seat in Congress,

finally I obtained the governorship of Virginia

but the best thing that has ever happened to me

is my beautiful young wife, Ann.

She's barely 26 years old and she has already given me

three beautiful children.

Harry, my darling, you must stop working

and see what I bought today.

Just a moment, darling.

I'm almost finished.

There.

Now you can see everything.

You are incorrigable.

All right, you have my full attention.

Oh Harry, it's all so beautiful.

It's all the latest fashions from Paris.

Look at this one, this is my favorite.

There, what do you think?

Do I look Parisian?

I think that that hat is lucky to have

your pretty head to sit up on.

Oh, Harry.

Why are you so good to me?

Well, it's quite simple, my darling.

I love you.

Now, evenings on our plantation

were most comfortable.

There were many pleasant dinners with good friends

and all political allies.

I really wish you would consider writing

for my newspaper, Harry.

I know you're a busy man, but your views on federalism

should be read by the people.

You compliment me, Alexander.

I agree.

You're a fine author, Harry.

Your description of George Washington as first in war,

first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen

will go down in history.

Thank you, Thomas.

Of course, I esteem your opinion Alexander,

and I will consider your offer.

I'm sorry to interrupt, gentlemen.

but I'm suddenly feeling unwell.

What is it, Anne?

I'm sure it's nothing, Harry.

Perhaps you should retire for the evening.

Anne?

Excuse me, gentlemen.

I'd never seen Annie taken ill before.

I was shaken by it, and extremely concerned.

What's the matter?

What's wrong with her?

She has a very high fever and is in and out of consciousness.

I'll be honest with you, sir.

I don't know what the malady is.

Well, she's young, strong.

She will recover.

I truly hope so.

I'm going to prescribe sulfates.

Perhaps they'll help.

All we can do is keep an eye on her.

Thank you, doctor.

Thank you for coming to us.

Dear Lord, please let her recover.

But Anne's condition did not improve

and only continued to worsen.

Dr. Bradley used everything at his disposal

but she did not respond.

Harry.

What is it, darling?

I've given you three fine children.

Maybe my time here is done.

You mustn't say that.

Don't give up, Anne.

Fight on.

I love you.

I love you, Harry.

Harry?

Annie?

Annie, don't leave me, please!

I'm sorry.

Anne never regained consciousness after that.

Dr. Bradley pronounced her dead later that day.

I found myself frozen in place, unable to move.

I'd weathered so many battles and seen

so much death in my time, but nothing

had ever left me so devastated.

Grave diggers were to start their work that evening.

I wanted the moment of Annie's actual burial

to be a private one, just shared by the two of us.

How can I put you in the ground, my beautiful darling?

I must be going crazy.

Help me.

Help me!

Harry?

Help me, Harry!

It can't be.

Annie!

Oh my God, Annie!

What happened?

In hindsight, Dr. Bradley guessed that Annie must

have been in a living death.

Once the illness had run its course, she revived.

One year later, my wife, Anne Lee, gave me another child.

It was a boy.

My dreams were that he would follow in my footsteps

and become a leader of men.

We named him Robert E. Lee.

There are many recorded incidents of premature

burials in the early 1800's.

Medical science was still growing

and diagnosis were often wrong.

Is that what happened here or did fate step in?

Was Anne Lee brought back to life

because history had plans for her yet unborn son Robert E?

Is this story that takes place in the antebellum era

inspired by an actual event or have

our writers gone south on us?

Next, you'll find out which of our stories are fact

and which are fiction, when Beyond Belief: Fact

or Fiction returns.

And now it's time to see which of our stories

are inspired by actual events and which are totally made up.

Let's look back at the story of the premonition

dream that resulted in death.

True or false?

No, no.

No, don't.

No, don't hurt him, please.

Deborah, I need you to help me.

Help me!

If you guessed this one was based on fact,

we played a trick on you.

It never happened.

How did you judge the one about the young girl

who saw the stalker in her compact mirror?

Real or unreal?

Hi, there.

Jeffrey!

Eleanor, you surprised?

I thought we could try a reconcilitation.

How did you get out?

It was easy, just like finding you.

I called your mother and I told her

I was an old friend from high school

and here I am in the flesh.

Jeffrey, you don't want to do this!

Oh, I do. No!

No, please!

Stop it!

Look at us, back together again, just one

big, happy family.

If you thought this tale was fiction, we fooled you.

Our research shows this happened to a family in the Washington

DC area in the early 80s.

It's fact.

How did you judge the one about the college

student whose dream of buying a car for $1 came true?

Was this real or fake?

Looking for a used car, my friend?

Well, just $1 buys this car.

That's right, $1 drives this car away.

No down payment, no finance terms, just $1.

$1.

$1.

$1.

Just $1.

$1.

For $1, this can be yours.

For just $1, this car can be--

What does our research show on this one?

Absolutely nothing.

We made it up.

It's false.

Let's look at the story of the ambitious window dresser who

meets his match in mannekins.

True or false?

How did that happen?

Gerald?

Gerald? Where are you?

Come out and face me!

Gerald, where are you?

I know you're doing this to me!

I know you are!

Did you think this one was based on reality?

Not this time.

It's a fake.

How about the tale of the Old South,

the premature burial, and the birth of General Robert E Lee?

History or hogwash?

How can I put you in the ground, my beautiful darling?

I must be going crazy.

Harry?

Help me.

Help me!

Harry?

Help me, Harry!

It can't be!

Annie!

Oh my God, Annie!

If you thought we made this story up, you're wrong.

It's based on actual published stories

about Robert E Lee and his father, Lighthorse Harry.

How did you do at separating fact from fiction tonight?

We've tried to demonstrate that it's not an easy task,

for sometimes truth and falsehood

live in the same world, a world that's Beyond Belief.

I'm Jonathan Frakes.

The story entitled The Stalker is

based on firsthand research conducted

by author Robert Traylands.

For Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction,

this is Don Lafountain.