Original subtitles

You know, it's not that he's a drunk or anything. It's just that he has a few in

the top.

Turns me on.

I want to submit to him in the classic feminine sense. Totally.

It's just that when I think of him with that other woman, I go cold.

I even gave up smoking for him. Not that he asked me. I just thought it would be

a kind of sacrificial act of giving.

I started chewing matchsticks. Instead, I am up through six packs a day.

I resent Nick for this new hang-up.

Well, I have a right to a few character deformities of my own, right?

I mean, I'm a minister's daughter. How perfect can you get?

Sometimes at night after this, uh...

Love making, I act out. I do resent Nick and the Padre.

Do you think Kate's asthma attacks are her unconscious way of getting back at

Nick and me?

Beth, we've talked about your daughter's asthma.

Just for once, couldn't I get a yes or no answer?

Nick, what kept you?

You know, we should be in there waiting for them.

Them? Who's that? The creative committee. Come on.

How's the stuff look? Good, huh?

I'm not supposed to like it, Ty. You are. You ordered it.

How can I miss?

Lutz thinks that Norman Rockwell should be hanging in the loo from here.

Oh, that way.

Hey, if you can slip it in somehow, would you mind telling Lutz that you

went to Amherst?

Oh, for Christ's sake. Look, I know you didn't go to Amherst. The old man got an

honorary degree there.

Forget it.

You're going to gamble everything on talent?

Nick always wanted to be an artist.

But the real thing, I mean, he didn't study for four years in Paris to end up

doing crummy layouts for hemorrhoid lotion.

It was the Padre that fixed him.

He had this pulpit principle about the work ethic.

Art is frivolous.

It's the hippie's way of...

Escaping the jungle code of fang and claw.

If Nick's art were any good, it would sell toothpaste.

That was Daddy's condition for my hand in marriage.

Can you imagine? I was negotiable.

Presently, a film of dark smoke appears above one of those remote points.

for his quick eye and fastidious voice, lift up with pride.

Team bow to come in.

Okay.

Now drunk it stirs.

A furious clatter of rays follows.

Every house and store pours out a human contribution.

And all in a twinkling, that town is alive.

We are still young boys.

All go hurrying from many quarters to a common center, the wharf.

Just lay him. Thanks.

You can use an extra dozen.

Robert worries about the cholesterol.

My W?

Sure.

Maggie.

The same

two that were here yesterday?

George and Evelyn Filoni.

He was with the State Department, a consular official in Spain, I believe he

said.

They'd make nice neighbors, widow.

And with Robert's interest in the history of diplomacy.

They're old.

They'll need a right for the house.

Not for you.

It's been empty so long.

Surely you can use the money.

House ain't meant for profit.

It's meant for wealth and the big.

Give me a sign.

When the right kind of folks come asking for it.

you early?

I thought Thursday was Miss Abrams and right after school.

Mom, do I have to take piano lessons?

What's your idea on the first place you've been doing so beautifully?

It scares me going there.

Scares you?

Walking those three blocks from the bus stop to West End.

But you've been walking that way for more than a year now.

Well, I could cut it when it was a dime block, but they raised it to a quarter.

The blades.

It's for protection.

You mean that you...

Have to pay a street gang not to harass you?

Mother, you know that. I've told you.

When?

When did you tell me?

Whatever I say just goes by you. You're either on your way to your shrink or

coming back.

I tell you that I'm a nape of the neck, man.

The ordinary run-of-the-mill sex fiends go for earlobes or dimpled knees

or D-cups that runneth over.

Me, Constantine, nape of the neck, man.

Don't you think that these martini lunches with a Thai bar are getting a

bit out of hand?

Like Thomas Jefferson, who was in the most scintillating of company when he

dined alone, I am my own best drinking buddy.

I know I should have called. I'm sorry.

How many did you have?

Oh.

You better get yourself to bed.

I told Chai I was through.

You did what?

As of today, I am no longer Lutz, Mandrake, Clinton, and Reeves' top

cartoonist. You might have discussed it with me.

Oh, honey, we've been discussing my doing some serious painting for three

years now.

Van Eyck or Rembrandt somehow managed to struggle along without selling clogged

shoes for the Dutch equivalent of LMP&R.

All right, I'm not in their league, but I gotta believe I'm better than what I'm

doing.

You did once.

Well, I still do, but... All we gotta do is lower our lifestyle a little.

Lower our lifestyle?

Look around you.

You've got five locks on the door. The lady downstairs got mugged in the

elevator, and Kate is afraid to walk three blocks to her piano lesson.

I'll tell you where we can cut down. We can cut down in a... How come Amy's

shrinking yours at 60 bucks an hour?

Don't start that again.

I am on the verge of a breakthrough with Dr. K. Becker. You have been on the

verge of a breakthrough for three years now.

And frankly, I don't think you're going to score one if you'll pay back a page

for a sauna.

Lord Jesus Christ, by the three days you lay in the tomb,

you made holy the graves of all who believe in you.

Even though their bodies lie in the earth... Did you catch his name?

Whose name?

The minister's.

Do you remember what he said? Nothing disrespectful.

Why can't I feel anything, Dr. Tabacker?

Only fear.

What instruments of vengeance are left in death? He's dead.

I hated him.

Locusts, thunderbolts, migraines.

A faithless husband.

I, Lawson Colby, being of sound and disposing mind and memory, am not acting

under duress, menace, fraud, or undue influence of any person whatever, do

make, publish, and declare...

This is my last will and testament in the manner of following, that is to say,

I bequeath to my daughter, Beth Constantine, the following.

It wasn't Father's death that brought you and me closer together.

It was the money he left us.

As someone who preached against the degradation money and idleness brings,

your father certainly invested well.

Blue chips, glamour issues, even some flyers into harness racing and sugar

contracts. Nice estate, even after taxes.

Are we really rich now, Daddy?

Well, let's just say we're a little freer.

Free enough for me to have a horse?

Oh, sure, in our apartment in New York.

Remember what the doctor said about pets?

Dumb doctor.

What do we do with the money?

Shall we cross?

Not cross something called Lost Whistle Bridge?

Flemish landscape.

I guess we took a wrong turn.

Not hard for a person to do, this side of the last whistle.

Well, we're glad we did. It's beautiful here.

Is this your land?

Yeah.

It pleases me that you like it.

How come you don't use machinery?

Against the ways.

Religious ways?

No, just tradition.

Tractors and such like wouldn't give us a chance to do it together.

Seeding the ground is... An act of love has to be done with the hand.

What do you plant?

Come on up here. I want to get the church behind you. Let's go.

Are we in focus? We are.

That's good.

What do you like to live out here?

Oh, look over there. Look at that. How do you like that one?

This is beautiful.

Aren't these houses marvelous? Look.

Let's go cross over here.

Isn't it neat here?

Isn't it pretty?

Look, Avery O'Penrose, 1811.

Hopper Penrose, 1709.

William Penrose, 1668.

Is everyone a Penrose?

Let's go inside.

It's fantastic and almost 200 years old.

Wouldn't it be fun to pick up a page like this?

On arriving at the lodgings of his three friends, D'Artagnan found them assembled

in the same chamber.

Athos was meditating.

Porthos was twisting his mustache.

Aramid was saying... Three musketeers?

What do you say we ask? Any friend of Dumas' pair would make a terrific

neighbor.

Come on. I will not pardon you for making me come here.

Yes,

who is it?

We were wondering about the house across the street.

Interested in it, are you?

Yeah.

Not the sale.

The wonderful old house.

But the plumbing's bad.

And the roof leaks.

And the owner refuses to sell. You know where the owner is?

I'm sorry, but it wouldn't do any good, believe me.

But look, in case he changes his mind, here's our number in New York.

Thank you.

Bye. Bye. Bye.

It

was

sort of a frigidoonish type place.

You know, a place frozen in time, no fast food joints, no neon signs.

Can you imagine sitting with those good, simple people, talking?

I mean, discussing things that really matter.

City mice into country mice, is that it?

I, uh... What would Nick do, plant corn?

What would you do?

Have you thought about that?

You notice anything peculiar about them?

Peculiar?

Here in the graveyard.

In the common where I snapped Kate with a lamb.

Here in the field where they were plowing.

That old woman in black with a white thing on her head. In every picture.

Do you remember seeing her?

No.

Could you hold on one second, please?

It's a Maggie Dodd in Cornwall, Coombe.

Are we still interested in that house?

Are we?

David, you?

A coffee table book?

Yes.

Full of sketches of rural American life. You know, New England barns, tools,

customs, country glory, that kind of thing. With a text to explain it all.

You know, barns and cow chips don't exactly go over like sex-starved

nymphettes in a little bondage.

Look, David, I know... You look, I didn't say no.

It's liable to end up at Knopf, and I'm back to dust jacket blurbs.

I'll need a complete outline and a complete series of sketches.

You got it.

Thanks, friend.

You know, Nick, it wouldn't hurt if you could uncover some gothic horror.

Nice axe murder.

A little incest, maybe.

And Cornwall Coombe.

Why not?

what we promised ourselves.

We don't go any higher than 42.5.

We are never going to get it for that.

Good

morning.

Mr. and Mrs.

Constantine, Robert.

Hello.

You've come about the house, have you? Would you know where the owner might be?

The widow of fortune is expecting you.

That's the woman that was in those photos.

It certainly is.

Look at that.

Grace Everdeen was either the village puncher or its first woman's liver.

Why? Look where she's buried.

Portia.

I'm Nicholas Constantine. This is my wife, Beth.

We were told that you... You've got the house.

It's Widder.

You can call me that.

What about the price?

It'll suit you.

30,000 and no dickering.

Well, to tell you the truth, Mrs. Fortune.

Widder.

You were set on going higher.

I got my price.

I've been told you got a young one.

Yes.

The coon could use some new bloodlines.

Well, how would Greek suit you, Widow?

Well, in hard times, one can't be too particular.

Now, into the tracks, the both of you.

And we'll seal all this over a cup of tea.

Never was blessed with children myself.

Last in my life.

My husband Clem's been dead for many years.

I stop by and see him every day.

Lay a strand of corn silk on his grave.

How's your young'un doing?

Oh, Kate's fine.

Except for she has asthma attacks.

Well, we'll have to cure that, won't we?

You'd be a good girl.

Don't you go wandering off by yourself again.

Come on.

In you go.

Brown Swiss.

Descended from the first herd brought from Switzerland to New England about

three centuries ago.

I loaded it myself last week. Most peculiar thing.

Hog had two stomachs.

Guess what I found in one of them?

A collar button.

Wouldn't you call that an augury?

Of course you would.

Anybody would.

You know, if you cock your head just right, you can hear

the cock. Come on. Get the cup of tea.

One of my sidelines.

Collecting things.

Wonderful.

Another one of my sidelines.

Uniforms. My husband.

Long forget where the bonnet came from.

Only one in these parts.

But I don't do tuna fish sandwiches.

Sit you down.

You better get that tea yet.

Weber's English.

Another two B, Weber's.

One B.

Send to London for it, Fortnum and Mason.

Seems they don't carry a one B in this country.

Everything has a use.

Spills for the fire, maybe a flyer for my straw man.

Oh, Beth, did you help me with the cups?

Of course.

Clem gave them to me.

First year we was married.

All set up.

Not a chip in them.

What about school?

School?

What do you want with learning?

Except for a bit of reading and writing. Ain't nothing the land can't teach you.

Well, can the land teach you algebra or...

Shakespeare's sonnets?

Well, will all that calculate and rhyme?

Help her carry a child?

That's a different education you set on.

There's a high school saxony on the far side of the river. Hardly anyone from

the coon ever goes there.

Except worthy peasants of the paper boy.

That kind of learning is scant in the village.

What about a doctor?

If you're looking at one, anything that ails you to a cow's colic.

Of course, you want to pay for common policies.

You can find them in Saxony, too.

And all a person needs is right here in the coon.

And maybe then some.

How you doing?

Look at me. I'm plastering like a pro.

In New York, you'd be on the hotline for help with an ice tray.

And look what's happened to that sickly daughter of ours.

Then you put in garlic to keep away the bugs. But mind, don't let it flower.

You know something?

She beats Dr.

Tabitha. At half the price.

They were brought over from England in the 1600s by a Cornish farmer, the

founder of the village.

Named Penrose, no doubt.

All the seasons, they're lovely.

Means more on the seasons.

It's a way of life.

There's Plowing Day, Planting Day, Spring Festival.

Oh, and then there's Agnes Fair on Midsummer's Eve.

According to legend, old Agnes flied at the crop and refused to quit until the

people of Cornwall held a fair in her honor.

Oh, and then there's the biggest day of all.

When the corn is done and the harvest is in and...

Folks can relax and count their blessings.

Time of joy and celebration.

Yeah, it's called Harvest Home.

Beth, you spent your entire 50 minutes talking about Cornwall Coon.

Did I?

Yeah.

big headline.

Sadie DeSalle, mother of quintuplets.

Your father here? Widow said he could use another hand.

Oh, I've been to school in Saxony, but that's only 30 miles off.

Want another sandwich, Worthy? No.

Here, have some more lemonade.

Okay.

What's it really like outside the Coombe?

Well, you'll find out soon enough when you go to agricultural college.

Me? Why not?

My folks have never ceded that. That's against tradition.

They talk about farming like it's a part of you.

Oh, it is.

Right now, I know more about growing corn than any of them around here. With

machinery, I could double the yield.

But that would be going against the ways.

You mean they'd stop you from doing something for their own good?

That's really dumb.

I got a tractor. I could take the whole motor apart and put it back together

again. That tractor can do the work of ten men, be the salvation of the whole

town. Them and Harrow's.

Are you preaching sedition, then, Worthy?

I'd best be getting home.

Come ahead, Laurel.

Hey, yeah.

Worthies are likely lads.

The good as they come, the better and most.

He'll make a good farmer one of these days.

Seems as if he wants to be a better one than they'll let him be.

Well, he only gets himself into trouble.

Folks don't like newfangled ways around here.

Why should the village stand in the way of a kid who just wants to try to

improve things?

Improve things?

Why should the coon want improving when it's already just the way we like it?

he was working.

She kept bringing him sandwiches every 15 minutes. I'm worried he kept eating

them. That's the amazing part.

You see those combinations?

Bologna and quince jelly. Yuck.

Flirting with him outrageously.

Our skinny Kate.

You know, I have missed three therapy sessions.

And I haven't had to call Dr.

Taybacker even once.

You've also stopped taking your sleeping pills. And Kate hasn't had a wheeze of

asthma since we got here.

If this keeps up, we're all going to break out in terminal health.

You know what, Al Greco? What?

I think this is going to work.

Thank you.

Use some stamps today?

No, thanks, Tamar. I've got all I can use.

Listen, still, I hope not.

He's been here since 1640.

Seen a lot of folks.

One of your ancestors, Amos? Yeah.

Gwydion Benrose. Died 1668.

Bought engines in them days.

His house, post offices now, was built for defense.

When Redskin's family broke in, Gwydion's long gone. Had trapped on the

floor. Escape tunnel. Run clear across the common, but come up the root cell of

his barn.

Where the church is now?

Yeah.

Tunnel from the post office, huh?

Still there.

No kidding.

Yeah. All those years ago.

Just runs right through that.

Comes right up in that.

Still have that bomb.

Gray 17.

Why is this one on unhallowed ground?

Suicide, he said.

Over what?

Some folks got long noses.

Nick Thompson.

What you're doing in Soaks is lonesome.

Passing years you're missing.

When you get old as that wood, you'll be feeling like you'll never get old.

What's an art critic doing hiding out in these parts?

Next time you want a draw, stick to the coom. You're part of it now.

Handle Caesar's wife?

Give it a try.

I'm scared of no soapsies.

Not you, nor your ghost.

Oh, shut up. Get on home.

Yeah, I am.

Soapsies, you've got no more right for them woods than Jack's stuff and anybody

else. He was poaching my land with it. If you don't keep him away, I won't

answer to what's going to happen.

really a ghost?

A revenue man disappeared in the lonesome.

Looking for that still. Supposed to be his ghost that haunts the woods.

Likely a tale the Soxers made up. Scare folks off.

Didn't bother the peddler enough to keep him out of there.

Jack's dump car in the right place.

It's his tongue that's in affliction.

Soxers are a bad crowd.

He'll pay for it yet.

Kate!

Leave her be, Nick.

She's like she's going somewhere.

Heading for the pettinger place, I'd say.

Didn't I tell you the boy took her heart?

She's a sickly 15-year-old kid.

Oh, fool.

Sickly. But soon they fit the rest of us.

Time's the time, Nick Constantine.

When you gotta let go.

Where's your father? I want him to clean out the spring.

Cows will die before he does it.

I'll go find Pa.

If it had a pump, your back wouldn't go out cleaning it.

Yeah.

It's against the ways.

Oh, yeah.

Everything that makes some kind of sense is against the ways.

Leave it, Pa I'll do it tonight when I get back from my work You just tell Ma

it's done

Something wrong?

Not working right.

Yeah?

Let's look-see.

Looks fine to me.

Maybe it's different from a plow horse.

There isn't anything wrong with it.

I was just hanging around.

Waiting for you.

Aren't you going to say something?

I was just thinking whether I like it or not.

Do you?

Yeah.

What do you do around here besides watching the corn grow?

Oh, Agnes Fair coming up. Taint Coney Island, maybe.

But I reckon it'd keep you from nodding off.

Want an apple?

Yeah.

Here you are.

Thank you.

Keeps the flies away, you know what I mean?

cool side so he gets the good of the green.

And you help him.

Sarah, pull your skirt down.

Seth, why don't you let Worthy show you and Kate around, and I'll keep busy with

this, okay?

Okay.

Come on, you've got the best corn liquor around here.

Take the money, boys. Take the money, dude.

Don't look at them.

Don't look at them.

Don't get fired.

That's all.

this moonshine money can buy.

Go ahead.

Mama won't mind.

They got her a quilt in.

into this one, Jack.

The strangest thing as I ever hoped to see.

And I've seen it with these here two eyes.

What did you see?

A ghost.

A ghost that was dead and now has come alive.

A living ghost as sure as I'm sitting here.

And it was screaming.

local custom.

Very old one.

It goes back to Cornwall, or even to pre-Christian times.

The harvest lord is kind of a male symbol of the community. It's quite an

honor, actually.

But more than that, it's enormously profitable.

The man chosen may be a complete failure as a farmer, but the whole village

pitches in to give his fields special care.

They repair his fences, build new barns, dig new wells.

Anything that will assure a successful seven years of his reign.

Believing that as he prospers, so will they.

They're choosing the new Harvest Lord today.

Everyone says it'll be Jimmy Minerva.

There you are.

That's him. The blonde black with healthy powder.

That's our Jimmy.

Think you're going to whip Justin, Jimmy?

You'll be spitting my dust.

Got some strange ideas, though.

I don't think the boys' ideas are strange, Constable.

in person, she'd come to grief.

She was such a good girl, why'd she do it?

Ask your friend, the widow.

She knows more about how folks die around here than I do.

Kate's heart?

Oh, I guess I ought to give that some consideration out, and I want that out

of my conscience.

sleeping now?

Probably the nostrum the widow gave her.

Do you have a nostrum for everything in that black bag of hers?

We're having sherry, Nick.

Something a little stronger.

How about you, Robert?

Thanks, Nick. I'm fine.

Well, I guess I better get you home, too, darling.

Now, wait a minute.

I know I'm in a rotten mood, but it's been a crazy day and I'd like to talk

about it.

The widow saved Kate's life today.

Did either one of us think to thank her?

Don't you think I'm grateful?

What is it you really resent, Nick?

Is it your 20th century helplessness when Kate was stricken?

While the witch of Endor reached into her black bag and effected a miracle

cure?

Maybe it is hard to accept.

All of it. The killing that sheep with a sickle.

That demented kid smearing blood all over Worthy's face. The whole primitive

circus. They roast a lamb at Agnes Fair every year.

How do you suppose animals get slaughtered? Well, not with a cheering

audience and a prepubescent pagan princess.

Oh, Nick, come on.

No, it's true.

Missy is odd.

But she's the one who chooses the Harvest Lord.

Because she has.

The site. Is that what you're trying to tell me?

Yes.

You spent all those years with Robert upstate while he was teaching you.

You've got a degree in biology from Radcliffe. You want me to believe that

you accept this local voodoo?

You forget I was born in the coon.

going well?

Oh, I've been trying to put some of it down.

I think if I ever sent it off to Dave Adwell, he'd think I was on a mescaline

trip.

Nick, the widow wasn't there.

Seamus Penrose's boat and a bottle of wine and we'll drift down to the cove

just the two of us, huh?

Oh, you're absolutely mad.

Do you know what time it is?

Look at how I'm going. All right, all right, all right. It's crazy. So what?

Do it anyway for me, huh?

I don't give a damn what Maggie Dodd says. I need something to rinse the

taste of Agnes Fair out of my mouth.

Uh-huh.

Okay. All right. Yes.

Let's go. All right.

What kind of wine goes with drifting down?

Oh, come on.

Chateau.

Yes.

Oh, darling, it's been so long.

The first time in my life I'm beginning to feel right about myself.

Stronger.

More at peace.

As if I've finally begun to discover that I belong to something.

You belong to me.

That's true.

If there is something more.

Belonging to something bigger.

To a way of life that's finally right for both of us.

I want another baby, Nick.

We're both pushing.

I'm not too old.

And it's a chance to start again.

Until we get it right.

That's what I like.

The house was meant to well the baby.

Honey, you had a tough enough time with Kate that Doctor warned us about another

pregnancy.

Widow has an elixir.

She's gonna fix it for us, huh?

Look, I don't doubt that her arcane majesty can cure...

Cancer with bat guano, but I did not turn out the pasture to become father of

the year.

Do you have your work?

What about mine?

I can't believe this is you talking.

Motherhood? That's your idea of fulfillment?

What's left over for us?

A baby is our harvest.

As the corn is the earth.

This child you claim you need so desperately.

Who would we be having it for?

Us or the widow?

sitting on the wall who are doomed with you to eat their own dung and to drink

their own urine?

Then the rapturer stood and called out in a loud voice in the language of

Judah, Hear the word of the great king, the king of Assyria.

Thus says the king, Do not let Hezekiah deceive you, for he will not be able to

deliver you out of my hand.

Do not let Hezekiah make you to rely on the Lord by saying, Then the Lord will

surely deliver us.

And this city will not be given into the hand of the king of Assyria.

Do not listen to Hezekiah.

For thus says the king of Assyria.

Make your peace with me and come out to me.

Then every one of you will be able to eat of his own vine.

And every one of his own fig tree.

And every one of you will drink the water of his own cistern.

Until I come.

And take your way to a land like your own land.

A land of grain and wine.

A land of bread and vineyards.

A land of olive trees and honey.

That you may live and not die.

Well, look who's here.

Come on in. Make yourself at home.

Thank you.

Another custom? One of the deepest significance.

No women allowed.

Tally up, Robert.

Now you've been church, you doubtless will be planting corn next. You buy

them?

You're looking at the last of the big-time spenders. Fry whiskey. Hold the

water. How about you, Robert? It's conscientious.

Justin? I'm all right, thank you. I'll make that for you. Oh.

A jack?

A cider.

Ah. I don't know about corn, Amos, but I can think of a lot of other subjects I'd

like to discuss with you. But I book you, Squibble.

I'm only the bell ringer.

Told you. You want a history lesson?

Talk to the widow.

Would she know as much as you do about Gracie Everdeen's grave buried in

unhallowed ground and condemned to perdition?

Don't worry about it, Nick.

It's just a newcomer who rattled a skeleton.

Is that out of bounds?

Let's just say that there are some areas of research.

They're a better left untapped.

If Sophie's looking for a new dress, got some mighty lofty goods.

Jack, and there's needle and thread and pins galore if she's got a mind to do

her own sewing.

Use them yourself, Bedlam. Use them to zip your lip.

Maybe I ought to zip. If I didn't, I bet I could tell her some mighty funny

doings in them woods.

Ghost or no ghost.

Ah. Ah. Whoa, whoa.

We're all in the streets and on the Sabbath.

He keeps talking about that ghost he saw.

In the lonesome?

It's true. It, uh, sounds like a banshee.

There stands your hair on end.

Mr. Constantine's doing a chronicle on the coon.

You don't want him to believe that silly tale.

Your ears and mouth will get you in trouble.

Someday, Jack Stump...

Hi,

Worthy.

And how's the young lord today, Prizzy?

Make up your mind yet?

About what?

About what?

The corn maiden, of course. The young lord gets the picker. Don't call me

that.

what to hang around this stupid town another seven years.

How can you talk like that?

Very easy. It's how I feel.

It's against the ways.

You too?

When you first came to the coon, this was all a big joke to you.

That's before I understood what it means to be Harvest Lord.

All it means is seven more years. I got no say in my own life.

You should be ashamed of yourself, Worthy Pettinger. The people in the coon

gave you their highest honor.

How dare you belittle it?

Maybe I ain't no Jimmy Minerva.

Mr.

Constantine?

Aye, Worthy.

I take it you'd just as soon that Missy had chosen Jimmy Minerva.

I'll never get to agri-college now. I'm never going to get further than Lost

Whistle Bridge.

Not to feel that strongly, why don't you just resign?

Resign? No one's ever done that. Not ever. No.

Not only would my folks lose all the benefits, they'd be disgraced.

Couldn't do that to my father.

Too many of those slate tiles are broken up there, Mr. Constantine.

They're going to have to be replaced if you don't want that roof to leak.

Now there's a lady over to Saxony who's got a whole bunch from a shed that

collapsed. I'd be glad to go for you.

But neither the young lord nor the harvest lord are allowed to set foot

outside the coombe.

Tradition.

You don't sound like Cornwall food.

Give a person a chance, Mrs. O'Byrne. I'll get the hang of it.

They don't welcome folks from this side of the river.

The only one they ever did meet was the Everdeen girl.

Grace Everdeen?

Yeah. Stayed here all summer some years back.

Poor thing.

Some love affair gone wrong with a man in the village.

But the good Lord only knows what he saw in Gracie.

Ungainly thing she was.

What happened to her?

Just stopped and left.

Met the young man at the bridge one night.

Next day, she was gone.

Not a word, nothing.

Didn't even bother to collect her belongings.

Often wondered what's become of her.

Best not keep you any longer. Looks like an Orwester.

and turned all night, and you look awful.

Okay.

Coming back from Saxony, I think I saw the ghost of Soaks Lonesome. How does

that grab you?

It was probably a scarecrow caught up in the wind.

It was quite a storm last night. Wait till you see what it did to the guard.

This was no... This was no scarecrow.

Going back out there later and nose around.

Nick, I wish you would stop this Grace Everdeen thing.

We've been talking to you.

What does it matter?

It's such a local sore spot.

I promised Dave Atwell I'd deliver a book. One that'll sell.

What would you have me write about? Mrs. Zalman's quilting bee?

It's something that they don't want published.

Exactly. Doesn't that make you just a little bit curious? What are they trying

to hide?

Not hide.

Just lay it to rest.

I can't say that I blame them.

You must know something that I don't.

Only what Maggie told me.

Seems that while she was corn maiden and engaged to Lauren McCutcheon,

Gracie Everdeen went bananas.

shamed and scandalized the whole community and then she vanished.

The next thing you know, she's killed herself.

I mean, is it any wonder that everyone would want to just forget the entire

episode?

Gracie went against the wave.

What do you suppose drove her to do something like that?

I told you, she just flipped out.

I won't wash, Beth.

That girl loved Lorne McCutcheon.

And I've got it on good authority that she never stopped loving him.

If Gracie left before Harvest home, then McCutcheon had to pick another corn

maiden to take her place.

Beth?

Your friend.

The post, mister.

Thanks,

Widow.

It's very kind of you, Widow, but we've been told the kid shouldn't be around

animals.

Kate has been grooming the widow's mare for weeks now with no ill effects.

That's right, Daddy. Not even a sneeze.

You might have mentioned it.

It was the widow's idea.

She wanted it to be a surprise.

Won't do her no harm.

I want Kate to have that horse.

She's gentle as a lamb, Nick.

No need to worry.

You really can ride, can't you?

Just killed him and left him here to rot.

It was here.

Believe me, a man's skull. It was enormous.

I don't think I'd make up something like that.

You're working on a book, I'm told.

What's that got to do with anything?

Well, maybe you want to see things that ain't there.

Writers have that kind of imagination, I'm told.

These stories about the revenue and the Soakses aren't any I made up. I know. I

heard them.

That's all they are, Constantine.

Stories.

Well, how does this grab you for a writer's wild imagination?

The Soakses tracked me here, saw me find the skull, and then moved it.

Fanciful enough.

Okay. Okay, let's forget about the skull. Let's just concentrate on a

simple charge of assault.

That crazy moonshiner fired a shotgun at me.

Or is that just considered another quaint custom around here?

Ain't nothing quaint about trespassing, mister.

Now, the lonesome's big, and we ain't too clear about boundary lines.

You could have been poaching on Soaks' property.

Serious offense.

Trespassing.

What I hear you telling me, constable, is that this is something for the state

police. Or the prosecutor over in Saxony, hmm?

Well, you do what you gotta do, mister.

But before you go stirring up another fish fry, you better know this.

A net revenue man disappeared.

Police swarmed down on the comb thicker than flies.

Counties, state, treasury, even the FBI.

Except for trampling down a lot of corn.

They come up empty.

Same as you.

Long walk back.

I can use it.

Voices travel in this holler.

As I'm standing here, widow, I saw a skeleton in that trunk.

Likely the bones of the revenuer.

God rest his soul.

I'll warrant the soaks has moved him.

Constables getting old, no two ways about it.

But aren't we all?

Mushrooms are abundant this year.

Those your shears?

They'll turn up.

Ha-ha!

Fly, I direct.

Isn't that poison?

Only to fly.

Cure, kill, blame, properly treated, hold.

Think by the stand.

You're a remarkable woman, Widow.

All that folk wisdom and magnetism wasted on a village of...

How many souls?

429. And they're all yours.

All mine, Nick? Even Beth.

You've converted a devout non-believer, Widow.

Many things exist.

The ken of man?

And others even within his ken.

Depends on how broad a ken a person's got.

I've lost Beth to you, widow.

Kate's next. I can feel it coming.

You got it twisted.

This here's the earth.

Full of bad and faithful.

A man's invention.

But it's the earth that's a friend of womankind.

It's not the likes of me taking death from you.

It's the earth.

But she can be found again if a person looks right hard.

How? Oh, there are ways.

Man's got to learn what's possible.