All language subtitles for 9mCTGzGQCodwSa

Marsh is not swamp.

Marsh is a space of light...

where grass grows in water...

and water flows into the sky.

Then within the marsh, here and there...

true swamp.

A swamp knows all about death...

and doesn't necessarily
define it as tragedy.

Certainly not a sin.

I thought Chase Andrews
would have more common sense.

Best quarterback this town ever had.

Boys, are these your footprints here?

Yes, sir.

Where's his footprints?

Yeah, some kids just get
crazy ideas in their heads

and drink and think they're invincible.

That Chase Andrews was no kid.

Hey. Look at this.

He open the grate himself?
Could've been an accident, all the same.

Time of death, between
midnight and 2 a.m.

Cause of death, sudden impact from
the 63-foot drop.

Since you found that blood and hair
on the support beam,

I would deduce that was the cause of
the primary injury.

Laymen's terms, he banged the back of
his head on the way down.

To hit the back of his head on the beam,

he would've needed to fall backwards,
is that right?

I'd say yes.
So he might have been pushed.

There's no fingerprints on the railing,
the grates, nothing.

No fingerprints? Not from Chase either?

No fingerprints, no tracks.

We do have those red fibers
found on the jacket.

I just got the lab report back from Atlanta.

They did not come from any of his
other clothing.

Wool, it says.
That could be a sweater, scarf.

Hell, it could be anything.

And we gotta find it.

A beautiful wife, good family. Can't think
of anyone who'd want to kill Chase.

Come on. You know how Chase was.

Tomcatting, rutting around
like a penned-up bull let out.

Don't speak ill of the dead, Frank.

I'm just saying I could think of
a few guys up to it.

Mr. Milton.
Hi, Sandy.

The usual? Brunswick stew?
How'd you guess.

What do you make of the Chase
Andrews case, Tom?

Oh, I'm retired.
That's none of my business anymore.

Fair enough. Could've been that woman
in the marsh.

She's crazy enough for the loony bin.
I bet she'd be up to something like this.

My brother's told me that
Marsh Girl's the missing link.

You know poor Chase Andrews had
something going on down in that marsh.

Chase Andrews and the Marsh Girl?
Now if that ain't asking for trouble.

What do you think really
happened, Frank?

You think that Marsh Girl killed Chase?

Hell, I don't know.
Truth will come out.

Look at all these feathers and whatnot.

She a scientist or a witch?

Miss Clark?

Sheriff's Department.
Sheriff.

Look.

Could get a warrant.

Plain view. Probable cause, sheriff.

Bet that door isn't even locked.

There she is.

This is the Sheriff's Department.
Shut down your engine.

Go straight, go straight. Follow her in!

You're guilty!
You killed Chase Andrews!

You'll pay for this!
Rot in jail!

Sunday Justice. Where you
gone, kitty?

Please stay.

Here, kitty, kitty.

Miss Clark?

I'm Tom Milton.

I'm a lawyer. May I come in?

Thank you, Mr. Frazier.

You probably know that you're being held
for the murder of Chase Andrews.

And I have taken the liberty of putting
myself forward to defend you.

I know you've never been in trouble
before,

so I can explain the courtroom
and the trial and who is who and whatnot.

Uh, do you have family that you might
want to come be with you?

Miss Clark, I don't quite know how
to put this, but, uh...

Well, I know you as Catherine
Danielle Clark,

but here in Barkley Cove they don't
call you by that name.

They call you Marsh Girl.

And when you stand trial,

you will be judged by a jury of
your peers

from Barkley Cove, who only know
you as such.

They are going to judge you whether they
know you or not.

But I can't help you unless I know you.

Even just a little bit.

Well, all right, then. Um...

I'll come back in a while when you've
had time to consider.

Oh, and I brought you this
just in the meantime.

Mr. Frazier.

People forget about the creatures
who live in shells.

I had a family once.

They called me Kya.

Kya!

Kya! You'd better not get too far out.

Get it, get it!

Now this little piggy went
to market. Now you hold still.

This little piggy stayed home.

This little piggy ate roast beef.

This little piggy had none.

And this little piggy went
wee-wee-wee-wee all the way home.

That's my special girl.

Hey, Jodie!

Hey, Tate!

Wanna come fishing?

l ain't got too much time.
"Ain't" isn't a real word.

Hey, how many times I told you
not to mess in my goddamn boat?!

Get in the house! Are you stupid?!

Come here! Now you've done it.

You gotta learn respect. You hear me?

Stop it! You're hurting her!
Hey, you leave my pa alone!

Come back on my land,
I'll shoot you! You hear me?!

Calm down now.
Shut up!

Shut up!

Leave me alone!
I'll show you!

Please just stop!

Mal!

Ma?

Ma never came back.

And everybody else was quick
to get out the same way.

Murph was the first to leave.

A few months later, Mandy and Missy.

Then, finally, Jodie.

Kya.

Kya, listen.

I have to go, Kya.
I can't live here no longer.

Kya, you be careful, hear?

If you're in trouble,

run and hide deep in the marsh
way out where the crawdads sing.

Like Ma always says.

Run!

Jodie!

I learned from the mistakes of the
others how to live with him.

Just keep out of the way.

Don't let him see you.

Fend for yourself.

I had been out in the marsh plenty
of times with Jodie, but never alone.

I didn't know which way was home.

Damn you for leaving me here, Jodie!

Damn you.

You okay?

You're Jodie Clark's sister.

Used to be. He's gone.

You know your way home?
Yeah.

It's okay. I get lost all the time.

My name's Tate, in case you see me again.

Tate.

There was something about that boy
that eased the tightness in my chest.

For the first time since Ma and Jodie left,

I felt something other than hurt.

I felt brave.

I'm hungry.

Morning, Mr. Clark. How you doing?

Well, Jumpin’,
I woke up on the right side of dirt.

Oh, this is my daughter, Miss Kya Clark.

Well, I'm mighty proud to know
you, Miss Kya.

Oh, don't mind her.
I tell her, uh, stay away from everybody.

It's a dangerous world, isn't it?
It is. But the fishing's good.

Could I get a bag of grits?

And some of that Jim Beam?

And maybe you fill her up for me?
It's okay.

Mabel.
Mm-hm.

You wait for our change, you hear?

Helping out your pa while your
ma's gone, huh?

I ain't seen her in a while.

She's doing chores at home.
Mm-hm.

Grits ain't much to go on.

All right. Let's see here.

Your pa left $2 here.

And the bill is $1.50.

How much does that leave for gas?

Don't worry about that.

I got another question for you.

You go to school, honey?

Do you know that they publish the
school lunch menu in the paper?

Today's is...

Salisbury steak.

You could get a nice, hot meal,
make some friends.

Plenty of kids go to school
without shoes.

But you will need a skirt.

Ask your mama for one.

There you go.

And the change is 50 cents.

Boys!

Chase Andrews, what you got to say
for yourself?

Sorry, Miss Pansy.

We didn't see you ‘cos that girl
got in the way.

Hello there.

I think you've got yourself turned
around the wrong way, little lady.

Isn't school that way?

So dirty.
Gross.

You have just as much of a right
to be there.

Go along now. It's all right.

Miss Catherine Danielle Clark,
are you reading and writing already?

Can you spell "dog," honey?

Who is that?

G-O-D.

Well, we can all use practice, can't we?

You can go ahead and sit down,
Miss Catherine Danielle Clark.

Where you been, marsh hen?

Where's your hat, swamp rat?

Now, boys and girls, settle down.
Just an hour until lunch.

Please, try to pay attention
to our lesson.

Who can tell me a word that has a
long vowel sound?

She probably lives in the mud.
Someone's got cooties.

That stink in the room.

Excuse me.

That was the only day I ever
spent in school.

Reckoned I was better off learning
from the wild.

Hi, Tate!

Mm-mm.

Need you to be careful out here.
You hear me?

You can't trust nobody.

You protect yourself.

Great horned owl, probably.

For a while, Pa was good to me.

Ahem. I thought you could use this
for your feathers, bird nests.

Other stuff you collect.

Oh, thank you.
Yeah.

It was my old Army...
Mail!

It's my old Army knapsack.

It's from Mal! It's from Mal!

It's Ma's handwriting!

Ma's alive!
Give it to me.

Give it to me.

When's she coming home?
Wait.

What does she say?

No!
Quiet.

Pal Pa, stop!

Stop it! Stop that!

Stop!
Quiet. Quiet!

Ma.

Now you listen to me.

She ain't never coming back.

You hear me?

That isn't true.

"Ain't" isn't even a real word!

Goddamn bitch!

Useless.

Pa took to burning any trace of Ma.

Get your shit out of my house.

And then one day...

he was gone.

Wasn't like the pain when Ma left.

But being completely alone was
a feeling so vast, it echoed.

And there was the small matter
of surviving.

I didn't know how to do life
without grits.

Well, hello, Miss Kya.

You want something?

Mr. Jumpin’...

I hear tell y'all buy mussels.

I got some here.

They fresh?
Dug them before dawn.

Just now.

Your pa sent you out with these?

Look, I tell you what, I'll give you
50 cent for the one bag

and a full tank of gas for the other.

How many bags y'all need a week?

Are we striking up a business deal?

I buy about 40 pound
every two, three days.

Mind you, others bring them too.

So if you bring them,
and I already got some,

why, you'd just be out.

It's first come, first served.
Ain't no other way of doing it.

That's fine. Thank you.

Can I, uh...?

Oh, yeah.

You sure are growing up fast, huh?

Why don't you come by next week,
I'll measure your feet.

I got some shoes in the church
donation bin just collecting dust.

Thank you, ma'am.
Sure.

Poor child.

Her ma's gone, and now her pa's
gone too, I bet.

What?

We ought to be careful, messing in
folk business.

It don't say that in the Bible.

"Be careful."

"And the King shall answer
and say unto them,

verily I say unto thee, inasmuch
as ye hath done it

unto the least of these, my brethren,
ye have done it unto me."

All right, Mabel.

Don't say about "be careful."

Let's see.

One, two, three. That's all.

They're from Miss Mabel.

Catherine Danielle Clark,
of Barkley County, North Carolina,

is charged with the murder
in the first degree

of Chase Lawrence Andrews,

formerly of Barkley Cove.

In such cases, the State is allowed
to seek the death penalty.

The prosecution has announced
it will do so

if the defendant is found guilty.

Guilty! We all know she's guilty.

She's guilty.

We will now begin jury selection.

Will our prospective jurors
in the first two rows...

There is an option.
It's what's called a plea bargain.

And it means that if you are
willing to say

that you did go to the tower that night
and met Chase Andrews there

and you had a disagreement, and in
a horrible accident

he stepped backwards through the grate,

you'd get ten years, but you'd be
out in six.

No.

If we lose, we lose big.

It's life in prison, or the other.

Mr. Milton, I won't say anything
that implies guilt.

I will not go to prison.

Please call me Tom.

And promise me that you will think
about this.

I have to get out of here.

One way...

or the other.

Between midnight and 2 a.m.
on October 30th...

the defendant lured Chase Andrews
to the tower and pushed him to his death.

She then covered up her tracks
and fingerprints.

Now, you're gonna hear she had the time,
she had the motivation,

but most importantly...

she has the weakness of character
to murder Chase Andrews.

Ladies and gentlemen, the State is going
to throw a lot of words at you

about Miss Catherine Danielle Clark.

But I am asking you to look
at the evidence

that the State will be offering to
back up those words.

You'll find that there is none.

Furthermore, you are going to hear
that there's a good chance

no one murdered Chase Andrews and
that the defendant, Miss Clark,

finds herself here because it is easier
to lay blame on an outsider

than it is to rely on facts.

And although she was born and grew up
not five miles from this courtroom,

Miss Clark is an outsider.

Oh.

Hi.

It's me. Tate.

Tundra swan.

How do you know birds?
My ma liked birds.

I can't read your note.

Oh, all I said was I'd seen you
a couple times when I was out fishing,

and it got me thinking that maybe
you could use some seeds and a spark plug.

I had extra.
Thought it might save you a trip to town.

And, uh, I don't know,
I figured you'd like the feathers.

All right, then.

All right, then.

Well, I better be going, so...

I could teach you to read.

I thought you may as well learn
to write at the same time.

Oh, yeah.

Good. Okay, so we start with A.

Just go ahead
and draw that shape right there.

Don't tell me.

You're getting there.

Don't help me.
Sure. I got all day.

"There are some who can live

without wild things, comma,

and some who cannot."

That's what I'm talking about, Kya.
Whoo!

And there will never be a time again
where you can't read, ever.

I didn't know words could hold so much.

Not all words hold that much.

We could read at my house sometime.

We went through the whole library.

Three times a week, summer into fall.

Read how plants and animals
change over time

to adjust to the ever-shifting earth.

How birds sing mostly at dawn because
the cool, moist air of morning

carries their songs and their meanings
much farther.

How some cells divide and specialize
into lungs or hearts

while others remain uncommitted
as stem cells

in case they're needed later.

Within all the worlds of biology...

I searched for an explanation of why
a mother would leave her offspring.

"Mr. Jackson Henry Clark

married Miss Julienne Maria Jacques,
June 12, 1933."

That means these are my parents.

"Master Jeremy Andrew Clark, January 2."

That's Jodie.

"Master Napier Murphy Clark,
Miss Mary Helen Clark,

Miss Catherine Danielle Clark."

I miss them.

I had, um...

I had forgot how much...

I feel them not here.

But...

I feel them not here right now.

I mean...

Sometimes I feel so invisible...

I wonder if I'm here at all.

You are.

Sorry I'm late.
Come on. Give me a hand.

Son, you know I don't listen to idle talk.

But there is a regular riptide of
gossip going around

you got something going on
with that Marsh Girl.

Hey, you know you can tell me anything.

She your girlfriend?
She's my friend.

I bring her books ‘cos people are so
nasty to her, she can't go to school.

She doesn't have any family.

Hey. Come on. There's no need
to be huffy.

It's my job to say all the things that we
don't like to talk about,

and I can't give you a lot of things
those other dads can give their sons.

So I'm asking you.

Just be careful.

Everything you've worked so hard for,
your dreams of going to Chapel Hill...

Life can change in a second.

You understand that?

Yeah.

Now turn up my music, would you?
Come on.

It's Puccini, in case you're wondering.

A young girl living on her own like that
looks immoral, don't you think?

No, sir. I don't. Think, that is.

At least not enough. Just ask my wife.

There are some fine group homes that
would help keep a young woman

out of trouble.

They say she comes in here from
time to time.

I do see her from time to time.

She's not alone.
She's got her father with her.

Well, I've never seen anybody home
all the times I've been by.

When does she usually come around?

I never know just when she'll boat in here.

Have her call me next time
she comes in.

You don't have any reason to lie to me,
do you, boy?

No reason at all, sir.

We gotta meet somewhere else.
Hi, Kya. Good to see you too.

Social Services are looking for
me again.

They're gonna pull me in, put me in
some group home.

It's polite to greet people when
you see them.

You know, a group home might not
be the worst thing.

What? No, no.
You'd have someone cooking
you warm meals.

Real bed.
I got a real bed.

'Sides, I'd never leave the marsh
to go live with a bunch of strangers.

It's "besides," not "sides."

And you can't live alone
in the marsh forever.

Watch me.

All right.

Tate.

Um...

I appreciate you teaching me to read

and all the things you gave me.

But why do you do it?

Don't you have a girlfriend or something?

Sometimes I do.

Sometimes?

I mean, I've had one.

Uh, but not now...

I don't, so...

Uh, all right.

[, uh...

I saw you on your pa's boat
the other day.

He seems real nice, your dad.

Yeah. Yeah, he is.

You never talk about your ma.

What's she like?

Uh, you don't have to say nothing.

My mother and little sister died in a
car wreck over in Asheville.

My little sister's name was Carianne.

It was, uh...

What, Tate?

You can say anything to me.

I think they went to Asheville
to buy me my birthday present.

There was this bike I wanted,

and Western Auto didn't carry it...

so I think they went into Asheville
to get that bike for me.

Oh.

And I don't even remember
what kind of bike it was.

It wasn't your fault.

Oh!

Oh, my gosh!

Am I your girlfriend now?

Do you wanna be?

I know feathers.

Bet the other girls don't know feathers.

All right, then.

All right, then.

I've never been out this way.
It's worth the trip.

You'll see.

Happy birthday, Kya.

How'd you know it was my birthday?

Oh, I read it in your Bible.

Did you know it was your birthday?

Don't have a calendar.

Oh, um, not my name.

Don't cut my name.

Yes, ma'am.

Mm!
Pretty good, huh?

What's that?

Here they come.

Oh, wow.

Snow geese.

Kya.

Kya, look at me.

Kya.

Kya, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Jeez.

No, Tate, I want to.

Why not?

Because I...

I care about you too much.

Look, Kya. I want you more than anything,
but I can't be damaged as easily.

It's more dangerous for you.
You understand?

Fall gave way to winter.

Winter to spring.

The only constant in nature is change.

Dad, I got in!

Why are you quiet?

You know I'm going away soon.

To college.

You talked about it.

When?

Not right away.

Soon.

I got a job at the biology lab.

Starts next week, so...

Stay here.

And do what?

No, look. I just mean there's no work
for me here.

What am I gonna do?
I don't want to be a shrimper like my dad.

I'm going to get a degree
and be something, Kya.

So could you.
What do you want me to be?

That's not what I meant.
You're never gonna come back.

Yes, I will. I won't leave you, Kya.
I promise.

I'm gonna come back to you.

Kya! Kya, stop! Ky...

You can't run away from every whipstitch!

One more night.
One more night.

What's this?

It's a list of publishers.

For all your drawings and notes.

There's nothing like them out there, Kya.

There's enough for a book.

Lots of books.

And, you know,
you wouldn't have to leave home.

You could just mail your samples
into a publisher.

You know, bring some money in.

You know, probably not a huge amount...

but maybe you wouldn't have
to dig mussels the rest of your life.

Just give it a try, Kya.

Come on. What can it hurt?

You're gonna forget about me.

When you get busy with all
that college stuff,

all those pretty girls.

I could never forget you, Kya.

Ever.

I'll be home in a month. I promise.
For the Fourth of July. Okay?

I'll be back before you know it.

We'll meet on your beach
and watch fireworks together.

Just write those publishers, all right?

Goodbye, Kya.

Goodbye, Tate.

Seabirds of the Eastern Seaboard.

Starring you, Big Red.

No.

No.

No, Tate.

No, no.

No.

No.

No.

No, no, no.

Tate and life
and love had been the same thing.

They were all gone.

And then...

Whenever I stumbled, the marsh caught me.

At some unclaimed moment,

at last, the heart pain seeped away,

like water into sand.

Still there, but deep.

There were no footprints
around the body or on the fire tower.

And no fresh fingerprints either.

Not even on the grate,
which somebody had to open.

All this indicated
that someone had destroyed evidence.

No more questions.

Your witness.

Sheriff,
I'm handing you the tide table

for the night of October 29
and the morning of October 30.

Now, this shows here
that low tide was around midnight.

So at the time
Chase Andrews arrived at the tower

and walked to the steps,
he would have made tracks in the wet mud.

And then as the groundwater rose,
those tracks would have been wiped out.

Do you agree that this is possible?
Well...

And then you'd agree
that if he had any friends with him,

their footprints would be
washed away as well.

Under these circumstances,

the absence of footprints in and of
itself does not suggest a crime.

Correct?

Sheriff?

The absence of footprints does not,
by itself, prove there was a crime.

You also testified that there were
no fingerprints

found anywhere in the fire tower,
including on the open grate.

So this led you to conclude that
someone must have opened the grate

and wiped away their fingerprints
afterwards.

Correct.

Now, in fact, isn't it true that
these grates were left open

so often and considered so dangerous

that your office submitted
a written request

to the U.S. Forest Service

to remedy the situation
on July 18 of last year?

This is a copy of that request.

Who wrote this, sheriff?

I did it myself.

Would you read to the court the last
sentence of this document

that you sent to the Forest Service?

Just the last sentence.

"l must repeat, these grates are
very dangerous,

and if action is not taken...

If action is not taken, a serious
injury or death will occur."

Thank you, sheriff.

Somebody's been taking pictures
round my house.

What do you think they want?

Developers.

They've been all up and down
the marsh last few weeks,

wanting to drain the "murky swamp."
Build hotels.

Yeah, I saw them last year.

Cutting oak and digging channels
down the way.

They want my house?

Maybe not the house,

but I bet they offer you a heap
of money for that land.

Jumpin’!

There ain't nothing wrong with
some money going to Kya.

You do own that land, don't you?
You own that house?

Pa said so.

Well, you're gonna need some proof.

A deed, title.

Hey.

Sorry to startle you. Can I carry
that for ya?

I got it.
Please. Let me get it.

Oh, I'm Chase Andrews.

Your name's Kya, right?

Yeah. Yeah. It's a nice name.
I like it. It's different but nice.

This is yours right here.

There we go.

You wanna go for a picnic
in my boat this Sunday?

Okay.

I'll pick you up at noon from Point Beach.
Does that work?

All right. Well, I'll see ya, Kya.

Well, here we are.

Mr. Napier Clark, looks like,
bought it in 1897.

Yeah, uh, that's my grandpa.

Yes, ma'am.

It's never been sold, so, yes sirree,
I reckon it belongs to you.

Looks like you gotta pay some back taxes
if you wanna keep it, Miss Clark.

In fact, ma'am, the way the law reads, uh,

whoever comes along and pays
those back taxes owns the land,

even if they don't got no deed.

Well, how much?

Looks like about...

Eight hundred dollars total.

Five years.

It had been five years since Tate
showed me this path.

Dear Sir or Madam,

I am sending you the following pages
on the shells of the Carolina marsh

for your consideration.

Five years for my heart to open
its shell again.

How's it feel to bask in the presence
of musical genius?

Hey, look.

Oh. Oh! That's an ornate scallop.

Pecten ornatus.

All right.

Well, it's unusual to find one here.
Really?

Yeah. This particular species usually
inhabits regions south of here

'cos these waters are too cool
for them.

What?

Oh, no, it's just, the Marsh Girl knows
the Latin name for shells

and where they inhabit and why,
for chrissakes.

Here. You keep it.

Thank you.

You're something else, ain't ya?

I know you think I'm trash,
but I'm worth more than a picnic.

Oh, no, Kya. Come on.

I'm sorry. No. Hey, come on.
I've never thought you were trash.

Please. I'm sorry.

I understand if you wanna go,
but you can't walk from here.

It's too far.

Can I make it up to you?

Please, can I make it up to you?

I can't believe you never been up
the fire tower.

Come here when my family's
all in my business. You know?

It's a great way to see the whole
marsh from above.

Here.

What is it?

You can tell me. I won't laugh at you.

It's like having a friend your whole life,
but you never saw their full face.

Now I see it.

Your house is over there, ain't it?

Take me there.

Oh, um...

It's far.
Hey, I like far.

I don't care what it's like,
if that's what you're worried about.

Is this it right here?

How long you lived out here by yourself?

Uh, about ten years, I think.

Neat.

Living out here with no parents
telling you what to do?

There's really nothing to see inside.

Wow, what you got on the porch?
What?

Oh, um, nothing.

What is all this?

Nothing.

What, you writing a book or something?

Sort of.

These look straight out
of an encyclopedia.

You're the real deal, ain't ya?

Ah, swanee.

You got a water pump.

I wasn't ready for guests.

Hey, don't worry.

Hey, there's nobody I know who
could live out here alone like this.

I mean, most guys would be too scared.

What do you want with me?

Okay. Look, I'm real sorry I came
on like that.

I wanna get to know you better.
All right?

I think you're gorgeous.

I do. I think you're free as a dang gale
and smart as a whip.

But I won't do anything unless
you want me to.

How's that?

That's fine.

All right.

I didn't know exactly how I felt
about Chase.

But I was no longer lonely.

That seemed enough.

Is that for your book?

Yeah.

Anyway, who knows if anyone will read it.

I will.

The marsh was our secret.

Tell me about your friends.

Oh, I don't really have any friends.

You always seem to be having a good
time when you're with them.

You spying on me?

It's funny. My dad told me once,

he'd had something to drink
and a fight with my mom.

He told me if my friends really knew me,
they wouldn't be my friends.

I don't know if anyone really knows me,
is what I'm saying, I guess.

I wonder what makes the sky blue.

Blue and violet wavelengths from sunlight.

They, uh, bounce off the gas particles
in the atmosphere and scatter.

Is it okay if I...

kiss you now?

Let's turn to the red
wool fibers found

on Chase Andrews' denim jacket

the night he died.

Did you compare those samples
to this red ski cap?

Exhibit C.

Yes. The fibers from the cap
and the jacket matched exactly.

And where was that
cap found?

It was found in Miss Clark's
residence.

Now, about these red fibers,
is there any way, doctor,

to determine how long the fibers had
been on the jacket?

No. We can tell where
they came from, not when.

And if someone wore this hat often,

is it possible the fibers would be
in their hair and on their clothes?

Yes. I would suppose they
could.

So would you agree that at any time
during the years

that the defendant, Miss Clark,
knew Chase Andrews,

the fibers of the hat could have been
transferred onto Chase's jacket?

From what I've seen, yes.

At any time they met.
Yes.

"Dear Miss Clark, we were fascinated
by your manuscript.

If, as you say, your materials are
already complete,

we hope to edit and publish in
record time."

Hey. You're looking at the new
manager of Western Auto.

Oh, Chase, that's...

That's great news.
Come on. Let's celebrate.

So they're gonna, uh, pay you for
those drawings?

Yeah.

Ooh!

Just don't get too full of yourself,
I guess.

I wouldn't.

I know people have disappointed you.

And I'm sorry for that.

Getting left by your own family.
I mean...

God, my family's a pain in the ass,
but I don't think I could take that.

But I want you to know that I'm
gonna take care of you.

Now I've been promoted,

I can get you a nice house
when we're married.

"Married"?
Yeah.

A nice two-story on the beach
with a wraparound veranda.

Yeah.

What about your parents?

Have you told them about me?

What you gotta understand about my folks

is that if I say you're my choice,
that'd be that.

They'll fall in love with you
when they get to know ya.

Come here.

Oh, by the way, I have to drive over
to Asheville in a few days

to buy goods for my dad's store.

I was thinking you could come.

Celebrate your book and all.
Oh...

There'd be lots of people.
It doesn't matter.

You'd be with me. I know everything.

Hell, you don't have to talk to one soul
if you don't want to.

Come on. If we're gonna get married,
you need to get out in the world a bit.

Spread those long wings of yours.

Come on. It'll be fun.

It's a two-day job, so we'll stay
the night.

Incredible, huh?

Hey. It's an adventure. Come on.

It'll feel better for you later, the more
you do it.

Oh.

Hey, I never wanna lose you.

Yeah?
Yeah.

I think about it a lot.

Sneaking out at night to come
see you.

My Marsh Girl.

Hey, you don't have to prove yourself
to anyone. You understand?

You have me, and I love you.

I made you something.

Oh.

It was a single shell,

hung on a piece of rawhide,
tied in a tight knot, and it was missing.

So to be clear, what you're
saying is that the shell necklace

that Chase wore every day
was missing from these items

that law enforcement recovered from
his body the day that he was found.

Is that correct?

I think it's important.
Yes.

He had that necklace on when he
had dinner with us that night.

And it was gone from his body.

And what I'm saying is he never
took it off.

Whoever killed him took it.

Objection, Your Honor. It's speculation.

Sustained.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,

you will disregard that last remark by
Mrs. Andrews.

Mrs. Andrews, where
did Chase get this necklace?

It's from that Marsh Girl.
Miss Clark.

I didn't even know her name
or if she even had one.

I can't see why Chase...

But what I'm saying is,

she's the only one who'd have
any interest in taking the thing.

Mrs. Andrews...

were Chase and Miss Clark
romantically involved?

You could say.
I saw him sneaking out at night.

When I finally asked him where he was going,
he told me the truth.

I thought - What would people say?

I was a silly woman to be worried
about that next to...

But he told me he broke it off with her.

She knew she couldn't have him anymore,
so she killed him

and took back her ugly necklace!
Objection, Your Honor.

Sustained.

No further questions,
Your Honor.

Um, Mrs. Andrews, you have
my deepest sympathy for your loss.

With all due respect,

you are aware that Miss Clark's house
was thoroughly searched.

And that the police did not find
the necklace there.

Did they?
No.

Hey.

I got it.
Hey.

Almost got you.
Almost knocked me out.

Just trying to show off.

What's that Marsh Girl like
in bed, man? Is she an animal?

Wild as a bobcat and worth
every bit of the gas money.

Tell me her eyes glow.

Only for me and only when I make them.
Hey, don't talk about her like that.

What's that? I said don't talk
about her like that.

Oh, the college boy.

He taught the Marsh Girl her ABCs.
Oh.

Mmm. You're a waste
of her time.

Go ahead, college boy. What you
gonna do?

Come on, you're tough, right?
Come on, let's do something.

You wanna hit me?
Hey, y'all settle down now.

That's enough.

Settle down before someone get hurt.

There's better ways than this.

Hey, Kya.

Hey, what the hell?

Wait! Kya, wait! Please.

Look, I just wanna talk.

Get out of my lagoon, you dirty
creep!

Kya, please! I just need to talk to you!

I don't care what you want!

I never wanna see you again. Ever.

Kya, I need to talk to you
about Chase, okay?

About Chase?
He's not good enough for you.

You're the one who left me.

Who didn't come back when you promised.
Who never came back.

You didn't even write to explain or
even to say if you were alive or dead.

You just disappeared.

I know. And I'm so sorry, Kya,
you have no idea.

You weren't man enough to face me.

You're right, Kya.

Everything you say is true.

Leaving you like that was the worst
thing I've ever done,

the worst thing I'll ever do in my life.

I knew how badly I'd hurt you, and
I couldn't face you, like you said.

I thought you wouldn't be able to leave
the marsh and live in any other world.

You know, I thought I had to choose
between you and everything else.

But the truth is, Kya, everything else
that I thought mattered,

the scholarships, the grants, the jobs,
it means nothing without you.

I was so wrong.

I've been sorry for years.

And I'll be sorry for the rest of my life.

You look...

I brought you something.

You know, I'm working at the new lab
near town.

You'd love it, Kya.

I get to study all this under a microscope.

So I'm here now.

I'm back for good.

Kya, I would do anything to...

I would've done so many things differently.

What do you want now, Tate?

Is there any way that you could
possibly forgive me, Kya?

Please?

I don't know how.

Kya, I trust you would tell me
if you knew of anyone else

who had reason to harm Chase Andrews.

Well, all right, then.

Try and get some rest.

Oh. Hi.

Hey. What you doing in town?

I had some good news from the publisher,
so I thought we could celebrate.

I was gonna make...
There he is.

Kya, you know Brian, Tina, Pearl.

You guys know Kya.
Sure, yeah, the Marsh Girl.

Pleased to meet you, Kya.

I'm Chase's fiancée.

All right. Well, I'll see you around, Kya.

Kya!

Hey, Kya. I can explain.

Are you in there?

Hey, I just wanna talk.

Kya!

I know you're here, damn it!

Kya!

I had to do life alone.

But I knew that.

I'd known for a long time.

People don't stay.

"Dear Miss Clark,

enclosed is the final copy of
your beautiful book,

along with the initial check for delivery,

with royalties to follow, I'm sure.

I'm attending a conference in Greenville
next month

and would love for you to join us and
celebrate this great accomplishment."

"A full deed for Catherine Danielle Clark

for 310 acres of lagoons, marsh, oak
forests and beach.

Wasteland category: murky swamp."

Jodie?

There I am in Asheville, and I see
your book in a shop:

Catherine Danielle Clark.

And my heart just broke and leapt
for joy all at once.

I knew I had to find you.

I just didn't think you'd still be here.

What about the others?

I don't know a thing about Murph,
Mandy or Missy.

I wouldn't know them if I passed
them in the street.

And, um...

what about Ma?

Ma passed, Kya.

Ma had a sister, Rosemary.

She found me in the Army
and told me what happened.

Showed up at Rosemary's door
in her alligator shoes.

Rosemary said she didn't talk for months.

And then about a year later, she
remembered she had children.

Rosemary helped her write a letter to Pa,
asking if she could come get us.

And he told her if she ever so much
as contacted us again,

he'd beat us unrecognizable.

Yeah, sounds like Pa.

She saved up for lawyers and everything,

but then she got sick.

Leukemia.

She tried, but...

She never had a chance.

I've been waiting...

all these years for her to walk
down the lane.

You didn't have a family your whole life,

and there's nothing I can do to
give you that back.

But I'd like to come see you as much
as I can get up here.

Yeah, I'd like that.

Mabel's gonna be so proud.

Just one more thing.

I'll be sure he gets it.

Thank you, Jumpin’.

How y'all doing?

One pack of your finest, please, sir.

And give me some matches.

Sure thing.
"Sure thing."

Kya Clark.

Miss Catherine Danielle Clark.

You wrote a damn book. Come here.

Wait, wait, wait. I wanna talk to you.

Don't act like that. Come on.

Leave me alone.

Damn, the Marsh Girl thinks
she's too good for you now.

Shut up!

Here you go, sir. It's on the house.

Thought I might find you here.

I told you to leave me alone.

No, I know, but I just...
Listen, I wanted to say I'm sorry.

Really. I feel bad about how things
turned out.

"How things turned out"?

What, you mean how it turned out

you were engaged the whole time
we were together?

How it turned out that you lie to
everybody?

Kya, I have to do things I don't
wanna do. You know that.

No, I have to get married to someone
like Pearl. I had to.

But you're the one I really want.

You know any other man would
have tried to change you?

To fix you?

I never did.

No, no. Please, please, wait.
I need you. I really need you.

Don't leave me all alone in that place.

You know, nobody else knows me.

You know, I feel sorry for you.

But I want nothing to do with any of that.

Wilder than ever.

I know you want this too.

Stop!
I know you want this too.

You're mine, Kya. You belong to me.
I'm not letting you go this time.

Leave me alone, you bastard!

You bother me again and I'll kill you!

She shouted it real loud, sir.

I heard a commotion, and I come closer,

see if anybody was in trouble,
and there she was.

And do you recognize the woman?

Is she in the courtroom today?

Yes, that one there. The defendant.

The one folks call Marsh Girl.

I finally understood why Ma
had to leave.

One thing I learned from Pa,

these men have to have the
last punch.

Being isolated was one thing.

Living in fear, quite another.

I will never live like that.

A life wondering when the next
fist will fall.

Tate, you can't be here.

I just wanted to check on you.

Jumpin’ said he hadn't seen you since...
Not now.

Kya, what happened to your face?

Was it Chase?
Tell me, Kya. Did he do this?

I need you to stay out of it.

That son of a bitch.

That son of a bitch.
Tate, I need you to go.

Kya.

You know, I was gonna go
to Greenville next week.

Finally meet my publishers.

Talk about the next book.

I was feeling brave enough.

Well, you can still go.

Looking like this?

Don't let him ruin this for you.

Go to Greenville.

Okay? There's a bus.

It's easy. Jumpin’s got the schedule.

Let them put you up in a nice hotel,

eat some hot restaurant food
you didn't have to make.

Stay a week, if you can.

And I'll come see you when
you're back. Okay?

Hear how it all went with the publishers.

All right.

Hey, you cold?

I'm fine. I don't need you
to take care of me.

I know, but just take my hat.

I said I don't need your help.
Just take it.

You wanna tell me
what happened to your eye?

I need to write down the bus schedule.

You have a copy, right?

It was that Chase, wasn't it?

Kya, look at me.

Now you tell me what he did.

I can't say it.

It's over now.

I just want it out of my life.

And how you know he ain't coming
after you again?

You're all by your lonesome out there.
Jumpin’, please.

You can't tell anybody.

You know how it is.

They'd drag me into the sheriff's office
and make me describe it to a bunch of men.

And then write me up in the papers,
accusing me of whoring.

Or trying to get money out
of his parents.

Okay? They'd do nothing about it.

You're right, Kya.

And I ain't gonna do anything
to make this thing worse.

But you let me know
when you're coming and going.

You hear?

I gotta know if you're out of town.

‘cos if I don't see you for a while...

Thank you, Jumpin’.

I'm leaving in a few days.

I'll come see you as soon as I'm back.

Okay, that's good.

That's good.

Miss Price, would you tell us what
you saw on the morning of October 29?

I saw the Marsh Girl...

Miss Clark, that is. Pardon me.

...get on the 9:00 bus.
You've got quite a good memory.

We all talked about it.

We'd never seen her all cleaned up
like that.

Hair combed, makeup.

Just to be clear, on the morning of October 29,

you and several others saw Miss Clark
board the 9 a.m. bus

and leave Barkley Cove.

Yes, that's right.
Thank you, Miss Price.

No further questions, Your Honor.

Miss Price, is the Piggly Wiggly open
at 1:30 in the morning?

No, sir.

Well, the reason I ask is,

you couldn't have seen who got off
the night bus from Greenville,

nor could you have seen who got on
the 2:30 a.m. bus

from Barkley Cove back to Greenville,
could you?

Well, no. Of course not.

So after you saw Miss Clark board
that morning bus to Greenville...

she could have returned
to Barkley Cove that night

and been back in Greenville for breakfast,
all without you taking notice.

My name is Robert Foster.

I'm a senior editor at Harrison Morris
Publishing Company

in Boston, Massachusetts.

Mr. Foster, you sat down for dinner
with Miss Clark at 7 p.m.

on the night of October 29.

Correct?
Yes.

What was your first impression of her?

My first impression was, uh, that she was
very shy, very gentle, very smart.

I knew that she was something
of a recluse,

but I also knew that she was a
gifted naturalist.

How long did that dinner go on?
At least a few hours.

Some female insects do eat
their mates.

Fireflies, in fact, have two different
light signals.

One for mating,

and one to attract a male
in order to make him her next meal.

So she eats him?
How gruesome.

Oh, dear. I must spend less
time with insects.

It's quite amoral.
Amoral, indeed.

I don't know if there is a dark
side to nature.

Just inventive ways to endure.

Against all odds.

And when you met with Miss Clark
the following morning, October 30th,

was there anything unusual about
her appearance or her demeanor?

Not at all.

No further questions, Your Honor.

Mr. Foster, did Miss Clark stay

at the same hotel as you and
your colleagues?

No. She preferred a smaller hotel.

The, uh, Mountain something.

Could you look at this map
of Greenville for me, please?

I think you'll see The Piedmont,
where you and your colleagues stayed,

and then The Three Mountains Hotel,
where Miss Clark stayed.

Could you tell me which one is closest
to the bus station?

The Three Mountains Hotel is closer.

In fact, The Three Mountains is
the closest hotel

to the Greenville bus station.
Is that correct?

Looks that way.

No further questions.

I don't think a good lawyer ever puts
their client on the stand,

but this might help you.

For the jury to be able to hear from you, directly.

For them to be able to see you...

as the kind and thoughtful person
you truly are.

They're never gonna see me like that.

Listen. I know you have a world of
reasons to hate these people...

No, I never hated them.

They hated me.

They laughed at me. They left me.

They harassed me. They attacked me.

You... You want me to beg for my life?

I don't have it in me.

I won't.

I will not offer myself up.

They can make their decision.

But they're not deciding
anything about me.

It's them.

They're judging themselves.

All right, then.

Mr. Milton, you have always been
kind to me.

Even as a child.

I never forgot.

His life was cut short
by the jilted lover

who could not accept that he had
returned to the fold.

A witness saw Miss Clark and
Chase in the marsh.

Heard her say the words "I'll kill you."

And what's more,

is there's physical evidence
from that night connecting them.

Fibers from her red wool cap

left on his denim jacket.

Dad, I'm going over to deal with it.

Who else would have motive to
take that shell necklace?

You can, and you must,

find that the defendant is guilty
of first-degree murder.

Mr. Milton.

I have lived in Barkley Cove
my whole life.

And like you, I heard the tall tales

told about the Marsh Girl.

That she was part wolf.

A missing link between ape and man.

That her eyes glowed in the dark.

Well, here she is.

The reality is that she was an
abandoned child.

A little girl surviving out there
in the marsh on her own,

reviled and shunned.

Mr. James Madison and his wife, Mabel,

they are sitting here in the
courtroom today.

They're about the only people in this
town who showed her any care.

The rest of us...

Well, I'm ashamed to say

that we labeled her and rejected her
because we thought she was different.

And now...

the job of judging this shy and rejected
young woman

has fallen on your shoulders.

But you must base your judgment on the
facts presented in this courtroom,

and not on the rumors and feelings
from the past 25 years.

Miss Clark has a solid alibi.

She was in Greenville the night
Chase Andrews died.

And what facts, exactly, stand against her?

The State has not proven that this incident
was indeed a murder,

and not just some tragic accident.

The State wants you to believe
that at 11:30 at night,

without a single witness seeing her,

she caught the last bus from Greenville to Barkley Cove,

and rode that bus disguised,

since neither of the bus drivers
that night could identify her

as a passenger, all the way back to
Barkley Cove.

And then, in less than an hour...

she tracks down Chase Andrews
in the middle of the night,

lures him to the tower, murders him,

wipes away all physical evidence,

and somehow catches the 2:30 a.m.
bus back to Greenville.

Again, without a single witness seeing her.

And after doing all that,

she meets with her publishers
the next morning, unruffled.

Now, these are not facts.

These are just more of the rumors

and tall tales that we have been spreading
about Miss Clark her entire life.

I believe you will come to a judgment
based on the facts,

and not the gossip that you have heard for years.

It's time, at last,

for all of us to be fair to the Marsh Girl.

Maybe you should go home
and do your waiting there.

Six hours already. How long do
you think they'll take?

Well, let's hope they take a good long while.

If a few jurors have doubts, we got a chance.

Mr. Foreman, is it correct
that the jury has reached a verdict?

We have, Your Honor.

The defendant will please rise
for the reading of the verdict.

Stand up.

"We, the jury, find the defendant,
Catherine Danielle Clark...

not guilty of first-degree murder
of Mr. Chase Andrews."

Miss Clark, you are free to go.

And I apologize, on behalf of the State,
for the time that you have served.

This court is dismissed.

Thank you.

Come here.

You're okay. You're all right.

You just forget about this nonsense.
We're looking forward to the next book.

Can you take me home?

Now [ can finally admit.

All the months in isolation,
yearning to be back in the marsh,

it was knowing how much was
left to explore,

how much life to uncover in the wild,

that kept me going.

And the hope,

always that hope...

that one day I could share it...

with the only person I had ever
truly loved.

Kya!

Kya.

Hey.

You know I love you, right?

What?

Will you, uh... ? Sorry. I'm sorry.

Will you marry me?

I mean, do you want to?

Well, aren't we already?

Like geese?

I can live with that, I guess.

Come here.

Oh, here we go.

Hey.

Hey, you. Hi, there.

Come here, baby girl.

He loved you so much.

Kya. Look at that.

You see that up there?
On the elbow of that branch?

When's the last time we saw one of those?

I know.

This book's pretty good.
This guy's still talking about...

I hope when it is time for me
to leave,

I will go quick and easy,
without making too much noise.

Mal!

Ma.

Ma.

Kya?

Kya!

It has always been enough...

to be part of the natural sequence
of things.

Sure as the tides.

Nature my guide.

The marsh knows all about death...

and doesn't necessarily define it as tragedy.

Certainly not a sin.

It understands that every creature
does what it must to survive.

And that sometimes, for prey to live...

its predator must die.

I am the marsh now.

I am the feather of an egret.

I am every shell washed upon the shore.

I am a firefly.

You'll see hundreds beckoning far into
the dark reaches of the marsh.

And that's where you will always
find me.

Way out yonder.

Where the crawdads sing.