Original subtitles

My journey to maturity began in New York in 1928.

I was married to Charles Rawlings,

a newspaper man and yachting enthusiast.

I had been trying to write stories...

that I thought would be most likely to sell.

Gothic romances were extremely popular,

and I had written dozens.

I was desperate to express myself.

Even as a child, I'd been consumed with a desire to be a writer.

Marjorie.

Max rejected my short story.

Max Perkins isn't the only editor in the world.

I know.

I thought your story was damn good.

Except for the pretentious parts.

Let's take a ride upstate tomorrow.

We'll make a day of it.

It looks like I'm gonna have a hangover tomorrow.

I have arrangements to make, Charles.

What kind of arrangements?

I don't think we should discuss it here.

Why not? Well, public scenes embarrass you.

You bought that damned orange grove.

What in hell possessed you to buy a place sight unseen?

I wasn't consulted. You didn't for one minute think about me.

Oh, that's not true. All you cared about was you and your desire...

to write the great American novel.

Do you seriously expect me to move to some hick town and grow oranges?

Is this your vision of an artist?

I'm not a kid. I can't just pick up and leave.

Why not?

Fine. Take your typewriter and go to Cross Creek.

Just don't expect me to share in your simple life.

Charles.

You're my husband.

I love you, Marjorie.

Couldn't you come with me?

No.

After 30 years of urban life,

I was totally unprepared for this small Florida town.

Excuse me. Hi.

Is there a taxi available?

You want the hotel.

Oh. Thank you.

You want Norton Baskin.

- Just ask for Norton. He'll help you out. - Thank you.

- Mr. Baskin? - Mm-hmm.

I'm looking for a taxicab.

I'm going to Cross Creek. I need a ride there.

If you just could tell me where I might find a taxi.

There's not much business here. If you can wait a minute, I'll run you down.

No.

It's too bad about your car. You ain't gonna get her runnin' again.

No, sir. You're gonna have to get yourself another one.

Somethin' in a clean blue might be nice.

I don't need a car.

Well, if you're partial to dirty blue.

No, I don't have any use for a car.

- Oh, I see. - I like walking.

That's nice. I intend to walk, a lot.

Those your hiking shoes?

You ain't gonna get too far in them.

I'll manage.

Up there is Simmons' turpentine still.

And over that way is Orange Lake.

It's good fishin', if you don't mind the gators.

So you say you're a writer. What do you write?

I'm working on a novel.

Hmm. Mm-hmm.

Hold on now. Are you all right?

I'm just fine. Hmm.

So, you write love stories?

I'm writing a gothic.

You do say. I don't believe I know what that is.

It's a type of writing. A classic gothic novel has a castle as its setting...

and a governess or a gentlewoman in distress.

Like you.

You won't be meeting too many intellectuals out here. You might get a little lonesome.

I've come here to work, not socialize.

Well, this is Cross Creek.

How many people live in Cross Creek?

Well, let's see.

There's never been more than, say, a dozen families.

You got to be a little crazy to live out at the creek.

Nah, no offense, ma'am.

The way I look at it is, if an attractive woman...

wants to hide herself out here in the middle of nowhere,

that is her business.

There she is.

Your new home.

Place here looks slightly run-down.

I guess you'll be wantin' me to take you back into town.

- That won't be necessary. Thank you. - Here.

How much do I owe you?

Not a thing.

That's ridiculous. I'd like to pay for my ride.

The way I look at it, you're a potential customer.

After a night out here,

you'll move to the hotel gladly.

I'll, uh, get a room ready for you.

I won't be needing it.

Careful now. That thing is liable to give out any minute.

I'll look in on you tomorrow.

I'll be perfectly fine, Mr. Baskin.

Of course you will. I'll come around noon.

I'll be working.

It's no trouble at all.

- Mr. Baskin... - I'll get the rest of the luggage.

It's nice to meet you, Miss Rawlings.

My plan had been to live off my orange crops,

but the grove had been long untended.

And as I had filed for divorce,

I was too proud to accept any money from Charles.

I hear tell you're Lookin' for a girl.

Take me.

Well, I come for the job.

I can't pay very high wages.

Any wages is better than nothin'.

I got to get work. I got use for my pay.

I don't think that you'd be satisfied so far from town.

Oh, town ain't nothin' to me. Oh, you don't know.

I don't do no courtin'. I don't want no man around me.

I'm sure that it wouldn't suit you.

If I don't suit you, you can cut my throat.

This porch floor ain't been scrubbed.

Ya got to have clean things.

I'll be here tomorrow. I gotta go fetch my things.

Wait, I don't know anything about you.

I don't know your name or where you came from.

I be Geechee. You don't need to know no more than that.

Hello! Whoo!

Whoo!

Hello?

I'm Marsh Turner calling. This is my daughter Ellie.

- Hi. - You can do better than that, young 'un.

Pleased to meet you, ma'am.

I'm Marjorie Rawlings.

Yes, ma'am.

We're just wonderin' whether you have had a comfortable night.

Yes, I did. Thank you.

No trouble?

No, none at all.

Sometimes city folks think they hear things at night.

Bears or gators.

I slept very well, thank you.

Looks washed out.

Sure could use some paint.

That's exactly what I intend to do.

You gonna fix it yourself?

Yes.

Well, that roof leaks real bad now.

Well... I'll just have to fix that too.

That's a real enterprisin' woman.

You get to patchin' that roof and you fall off and break a leg or somethin',

you give us a holler and we'll come fetch ya.

That's what neighbors are for. Good day to you, ma'am.

Some sage and lily root would ease up on that rash.

Hey.

Didn't mean to scare you.

It was a cottonmouth. Deadly.

Where I be puttin' my things?

In the room in back of the kitchen.

Nobody been carin' for things around here.

Geechee.

- We'll set that right. - I'm not sure that this is gonna work out.

You see, I'm a writer, and my privacy is essential to me.

Nobody be botherin' you. Don't you worry.

I'm working, and it's difficult to concentrate when there are people around.

You just write. I'll clean up the house.

Yes, well, we'll try it out.

Listen, I don't care if the roof falls in.

I don't want to be disturbed unless it's a life or death emergency.

- Is that clear? - Yes'm.

Miss Rawlings, you be wantin' beaten biscuits with your lunch or spoon bread?

Beaten.

Oh, my.

- Good morning. - Mornin'.

He's beautiful, Ellie.

My pa says to put this on your rash three times a day.

Thank you.

My ma says we're to have a pound party next Saturday.

She'd be most proud if you'd come.

I'd be delighted to. What is a pound party?

Everybody brings a pound of somethin'...

sugar or butter or cake.

Cake'd be fine. Do you know how to bake a cake?

I certainly do. What's his name?

I call him Flag, on account of his tail. Kinda looks like a flag.

That's a good name for him.

My pa don't believe in keepin' pets.

But Flag's special. He's real smart, knows his name.

He likes you.

Why does your father not believe in keeping pets?

Milk's sometimes scarce. But I don't need milk now.

So Flag gets my share.

Do you go to school?

My ma taught us how to read, and I'm a pretty fair shot.

Must get lonely out here.

Used to be. Not since Flag.

I'll come show you the way Saturday.

All right.

Mornin'.

Mornin'!

- Miss Rawlings is busy workin'. - Mornin'.

Like to go for a little spin?

- I have work to do. - I thought you'd like to try her out.

Mr. Baskin, I don't really have time for games.

Well, I figured that you might be needing a car.

It is a long walk into town.

So I brought one out for you to try out.

I can't afford a car.

You can afford this one, Miss Rawlings.

Put your shoes on. I'll show it to you.

'Course, it's not what you'd call a formal car.

So if you'd like to come as you are, that'd be fine.

- Is it all right if I clean up now? - Yes, thank you.

And if you want to put on a summer dress...

and pack a nice picnic lunch, that'd be fine too.

You don't want to turn it down before you look it over.

- Mr. Baskin... - Norton.

I appreciate your concern, but I can't possibly afford a car.

- So if you'll excuse me... - No, ma'am, I certainly do not excuse you.

Now, I've considered that you're new here and that you're nervous about starting out.

But you're being pigheaded. I didn't come to sell you a car.

I put two and two together, and as far as I can tell...

you don't have anybody to depend on.

I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

I don't care how perfectly capable you may think you are.

The fact is that you don't have a means of transportation.

Now, maybe I'm out of line, but I took it

upon myself to fetch that old jalopy of yours.

It doesn't run.

It does now.

Oh.

So how much do I owe you?

I brought it out to you as a gift.

If that offends you, I'm sorry.

But I sure as hell didn't come here to take nothin' from you.

Mr. Baskin!

Would you like a cup of coffee?

Oh, my goodness!

It looks brand new.

All it needed was a little love and affection.

I'd like to pay you for whatever it cost you to do that.

Are all writers stubborn, or is it just you?

Is it a deal?

Well, seein' as how we're in business together, you could do me a favour.

I'm gonna need a lift back to town.

The party was a welcome respite from my work.

I looked forward to seeing Ellie again.

She stood on the threshold of womanhood,

clinging to her fawn as if he were the last of her youthful dreams.

Mama, Miss Rawlings's here.

How lovely of you to come.

I expect the other guests will be here momentarily.

This is for you.

Thank you. How sweet of you.

Please, sit down.

It'll help keep the mosquitos off you.

Feels like rain.

The children picked blackberries all afternoon.

We had a blackberry patch, but my husband's hogs just helped "theirs elves"...

till there wasn't anything left.

I enjoy picking berries.

Floyd, blow some for our company.

Mary.

Floyd talks to the animals.

They come calling for him every morning.

- Did Mary dance? - No, ma'am.

Mary.

I believe the others have been held up.

Ellie, Preston, you may bring out the refreshments.

Yes, ma'am.

Thank you.

- No, I get to! - Tastes good, don't it, Flag?

Ma, Ellie said I could put Flag to bed.

You all having a good time?

Yes, sir!

- Hello, Miss Rawlings. - Hello.

I brought you a nice soft-shelled cooter here.

He should be tied behind the house.

He's so small, Bubber. I'm scared a wildcat might get him.

Cake's as light as a feather.

Go on, now.

I saved you a piece, Bubber.

Go on, now.

Could Flag stay in, just for tonight?

He belongs in the woods. You know that.

Yes, sir.

But seeing it's a special day, you can leave him be.

Oh, thank you, Bubber.

Oh.

We're having a wonderful party.

The threat of bad weather kept the other guests away.

We had a lovely conversation, didn't we?

Yes.

I'm gonna send Mary over with some dresses.

I'll be taking Miss Rawlings home now.

I had a lovely afternoon. Thank you.

- It was a pleasure. - Good-bye.

Ellie, will you come help me with the dishes?

I want lace trim on the sleeve.

Stitch it nice and small so the thread doesn't show through.

She was a visitor.

She came to a local square dance. I couldn't keep my eyes off her.

Should've let her be.

She'll be sending you clothes to mend, dresses to sew.

Well, I'm afraid that I haven't any...

Oh, she's good-hearted. Don't pay her no mind.

She's slippin' away from us.

She's found herself a more peaceful world.

This creek's hard on folks, particularly women.

I'm not afraid of living hand-to-mouth.

Well, that's what it'll be.

But I guess you'll make out.

Folks around here have to scratch and scramble.

The people that love it, they stay here till they die.

And if they don't, they move on.

- Are we lost? - This here's the River Styx.

But I live at Cross Creek.

Don't worry. I'll get you there, Miss Rawlings. Somebody I want you to meet.

Got a gator hole right here.

I don't want to step in it.

You're not even afraid of gators, are you?

Ever been bit by one?

Not recently.

Watch your step, now. Wouldn't want to fish you out.

This here is young Paul. We call him Peas.

Miss Rawlings. She's looking for a hired man.

Well, I could start on Monday.

Well, I'm not sure that I can afford to hire...

Oh, he'll work out.

He's a good one. Give you more time with your writin'.

Oh, I like this batch, Peas.

- Well... - Good!

It's settled, then?

Would you like a little taste of this?

Here's to ya.

Oh, that's good, good.

How did you... How did you know I was a writer?

A wildcat's not the only thing that prowls around in the dark.

I seem to have very little say about who I will and will not hire.

That's the way it is at the Creek, ma'am.

Excuse me.

I do intend to write at least eight hours a day.

All right, I've decided to hire your friend Paul.

You Yankee women like to make all the decisions, don't you?

Well, if you stay, I'll take you on a gator hunt.

I'll be staying, Mr. Turner.

Hey!

This old bed may seem like purely trash to you,

but if you want it, it's yours.

It's beautiful, Marsh.

Oh, it's been laying up in my barn about 50 years.

You want it?

The way I figure, a thing deserves to be used.

Used right.

And you livin' nice, you taking care of this old grove, you're the one to have it.

Been sittin' up all these years, waiting for the right person.

You got bugs in them collards.

You'd better dust 'em.

You're gonna stay behind and show her how, won't you, Ellie, sweetheart?

What's that fine, handsome car you got sittin' out front?

Mr. Norton... Mr. Baskin brought that out to me.

It's my car. He just fixed it.

That's all right, Marjorie.

There's no need to explain anything.

Well, now...

you painted your house, planted some collards,

bought yourself a mule, fixed your car.

I think you're settlin' in.

We're gonna take you on a gator hunt real soon.

Thank you.

First we're gonna start out with somethin' easy. Say, a bear hunt.

Marsh...

Do you want it, Marjorie? It's yours. Go on!

Marsh Turner and his family...

were unlike any of the friends I had known before.

I was drawn to them, the rustic cottage, the children.

I wondered if, like them, I'd find peace in my new world.

Paul was caring for my grove,

and Geechee watched over the house.

Sometimes in the distance in the Hammock Swamp...

I could hear the felling of cypress trees.

I was learning that the grove was hard-fought and hard-maintained...

and must always, as a child, be kept safe from a sudden frost.

I could now concentrate on my writing,

but each word was a struggle.

Phrases, lines, paragraphs eluded me.

I had been here for some time, my story wasn't half finished...

and my funds were trickling slowly away.

For heaven's sake! Geechee!

- Hyah! - For Pete's sake!

Get outta there!

Get, get! Get outta here! Get out!

- Miss Rawlings, they got your petunias! - Mr. Turner!

Good afternoon, ma'am.

Go on, get out of here! Look at this!

- Get on outta here! - Damn it! Go on!

Mr. Turner, your pigs ate my flowers.

I see my hogs been botherin' you.

If them hogs ever come back here botherin' you,

them's your hogs!

- I'm doing to suit you? - Yes.

- You trust me? - Yes.

I've got a thing to tell you. I gotta have help.

These here is from my man. Read 'em.

"My sweet Beatrice..."

That's what he calls me by.

"I've got to get out. I can't stand it.

You've gotta get me a job so they let me out."

He in the state prison. You can get him out.

You can write him a letter and say you got work for him.

But it says here, "20 years for manslaughter."

He didn't do nothin'! The other nigger was la yin' for him.

And he come at Leroy and he bopped him one.

And Leroy, see, he's strong and he made a pass at him, and it done killed him.

You need another man around here to help out.

Geechee, I'm not sure I can afford to hire anyone else.

Money don't matter.

You write the superintendent a letter. He'll listen to you...

'cause you the writer.

Well, fine. But don't expect it to...

This is my cousin Tim.

Him and his wife come out to help.

Thank you. If you like, you can stay in the shack at the end of the grove.

How much longer can my grove last without water?

Well, the leaves'll be curlin' up.

I don't know what that means.

It means you might lose your crop.

Well, I just can't sit here and watch while my orange grove dies.

Ma'am, Tim and I can't haul all this outta here by ourselves.

What do I do?

A woman can't do this kind of work. It ain't right.

Don't you tell me what a woman can and cannot do.

Well?

Tim... that was a good day's work.

Thank you.

Ma'am, the wife needs to use the water pump once a day.

I w-wouldn't ask, but she'll be having a child shortly.

She's welcome to use mine. If she needs anything at all...

Water's all she'll be wantin'. That's a-all I'll be askin'.

He's used to livin' in the woods. More than me.

Can't seem to abide by people.

♪ We are climbin' ♪

♪ Jacob's ladder ♪

♪ We are climbin' ♪

♪ Jacob's ladder ♪

♪ We are climbin' ♪

♪ Jacob's ladder ♪

♪ Soldiers of God ♪

Tim said it'd be all right.

Of course it's all right.

Would you like to sit down and rest for a minute?

It's heavy.

Thank you, ma'am.

Dear Max, here it is finally...

my gothic story about an English tutor...

and her misadventures in a nobleman's ancient castle.

I think it's the best story I've ever written,

and I'm sending it off to you...

positive that I will finally be published.

So much happens here at Cross Creek.

Max, I'm attempting to get Geechee's boyfriend out of jail...

and build a dam.

Young Ellie follows the fortunes of my grove...

as closely as if it had been her own.

She and her fawn are my coworkers over the hazardous fortunes of my crop.

If there can be such a thing as instinctual memory,

the consciousness of land and water...

must lie deeper in the core of us than any knowledge of our fellow beings.

We were bred of the earth before we were born of our mothers.

Once born, we can live without our mothers or fathers...

or any other kin...

or any friend or human love.

We cannot live without the earth...

or apart from it.

And something is shriveled in man's heart when he turns away from it...

and concerns himself only with the affairs of men.

Come on, mule! Come on!

Miss Rawlings!

We did good!

We did magnificently!

My, my, my!

This is my utterly deadly southern pecan pie.

My, my! I never ate better in my life!

Do you want more coffee? Don't mind if I do.

Mmm.

Delicious.

My own recipe.

Candles, flowers, delicious home-cooked meal.

I must have done an awfully good job on that car.

I take it it's still running smoothly?

Perfectly smoothly.

To my first dinner guest.

There's still plenty of pie.

Mmm.

We could eat it in the morning.

Don't you think that'd be a good idea, Marjorie?

Is your governess still lost in the moors?

Now, you know what I would do?

I would give her a full moon...

something like what we have tonight...

and a handsome lord.

Well, he could look just a little bit like me.

And he'll lead her safely home.

I'm sure of it.

Norton... you're a bit of a poet.

Yes'm.

With you... I think I'm everything.

I thought you might like that.

How are you getting on?

Nothin' "extry."

There ain't no screens to the house...

and the skeeters like to eat us alive.

Can't keep the "antses" out of Tim's breakfast.

Why didn't anyone say anything to me? I had no idea. I'll see...

It don't matter. We'll make out.

That's a nice baby.

The other didn't last till spring.

This one might fare better. Till winter, maybe.

I was wondering if your wife might help me at the house.

Just a bit of light washing.

White woman don't ask another white woman to do her washin'!

Carry her slops, neither.

Us'll be leavin' here now.

I didn't mean to offend you.

I was trying to be neighborly.

Mail for you, Miss Rawlings.

Thank you.

My dear Marjorie, please believe me...

when I say it disappoints me as much as you to have to return your manuscript.

Marjorie, your writing is technically perfect,

yet it is still an imitation of other authors' work.

Your letters to me about your life in Cross Creek...

are alive with emotion, and I read them with such pleasure.

They are the most revealing bits of life...

that tells not trivial facts...

but human motives and the secrets of human hearts.

That child who wants a deer,

the young couple who chose to live in the woods...

rather than conform to civilization...

write me those stories,

not these English tea parties...

and gothic tales you know nothing about.

- Afternoon. - Good afternoon.

It's sticky, isn't it?

You know, I always did admire a woman without curiosity.

Most women would rip their mail open as soon as they got their hands on it.

- But you... - There's no need for me to be curious.

This is for Geechee, and this is a rejected story.

And I don't want to talk about it anymore.

Well, I got a feeling it's a mighty fine story.

I doubt that. Good stories get published.

Marjorie, I don't know anything about writing.

But I do know you're the kind of woman that's gonna be good...

at whatever it is she decides to do.

Now, you been through so much since you came here.

Maybe you just... need a little time for things to settle out.

Thank you.

Suppose I drop by later on?

What you doin'? Put that thing down! Leave me alone!

It's just Mr. Turner's pigs! I intend to shoot them.

Get on up! Come in the house!

Come in the house!

- Where's my gun? - You're all wet.

- Here it is. - Where's my gun?

Miss, come in the house. You're gonna be sick!

- Miss Rawlings! - Oh, I think I got one.

Get on in the house!

Miss Rawlings not home.

Would you tell her I'd like to talk to her?

- She busy working. You can't see her. - Better tell her I'm here.

I wanna talk to her for a minute.

Geechee, who is it?

It's Mr. Turner, and he got that fresh fellow with him.

Send him in.

No, ma'am. You can't be entertainin' in your bedroom.

You may come in, Mr. Turner.

Good day to you, ma'am.

Good morning. I'd like a cup of coffee, please.

It was stormin' last night, Miss Rawlings... remember?

What can I do for you, Mr. Turner?

Somebody shot my pig.

This is serious, Marjorie. I'd just like to know who.

I shot your pig.

It tormented me, and I shot it.

That was my pig, Miss Rawlings.

No, that was my pig. You gave that pig to me.

You said that if they trespassed, they were mine.

What kind of woman would shoot a hog in the middle of a storm?

Was it a good shot?

No, ma'am, it was not. I had to finish it off myself.

Mr. Turner, would you lower your voice, please?

Won't you join me?

Thank you.

Won't get no writin' done if you're entertaining all Mornin'.

Well, thank you kindly. You're certainly welcome.

I'll pay for your pig, but he was an outlaw.

He was practically a pet. You could catch it with your bare hands.

Well, I wouldn't have had the pleasure of shooting it.

Miss Rawlings, I don't want to disturb you, ma'am.

I talked to a lot of your friends. Even Norton assured me...

you're not the kind of woman that would have shot my hog.

That is just the way I am.

I go along quietly for a while, and then, out of the clear blue sky,

I don't know what happens, I just pick up a gun, I shoot whatever makes me angry.

I'm so afraid one day it just might be a person.

I'm afraid whatever it is I owe you...

will have to wait until I'm... solvent.

I'm flat broke. My last story was rejected.

Miss Rawlings, it seems I do remember that was your hog.

Good day to you, ma'am.

- Good day. - See you, Norton.

Mr. Turner.

- I'd like to have that hog back. - Say what?

I'd like to have that hog and eat it too for dinner.

Perhaps you and Mr. Baskin would join me?

Be a shame to waste all them ribs.

Miss Rawlings, you gonna have that hog... before sundown.

Ribs and all.

- Won't we have a lovely barbecue? - Yes, ma'am!

This is Miss Marjorie's work time. You have to be going.

Marjorie, I would like to read what you write today.

You won't read what I write today or any other day.

What I write is none of your damn business. Why don't you just get out of here?

I think I'll do just that.

Norton, I'm sorry.

You got quite a temper, Marjorie... shooting pigs and chopping my head off.

I know.

I'm scared stiff.

I can't imagine you scared of anything.

I'm writing a story about Tim and his wife.

It's called Jacob's Ladder.

It's something I care very much about.

It won't be like anybody else's work. It'll come straight out of me.

Do you understand that?

If this gets turned down, I have to face the fact...

that I wasn't meant to be a writer.

That sounds a little drastic, Marjorie.

No.

This is my world... Cross Creek.

The people here...

are richer than my imaginary governesses.

If I can't write my own honest thoughts and feelings,

then I'm no author.

You're gonna do just fine, Marjorie.

I believe you're holding my hand again, Mr. Baskin.

Seems I am.

I suppose you'll be insisting on staying for supper.

My thoughts exactly.

Nothing's gonna happen between us.

The yearling was growing up,

and so was Ellie.

The land we toiled over responded to our care.

My grove was thriving.

Thank you, Paul.

Leroy! Oh!

Leroy's here! Leroy's here!

Leroy!

It seemed nothing could go wrong.

Geechee had her Leroy home,

and I had settled into writing ten to twelve hours a day.

But as time went on, I saw that Leroy made no effort to learn the grove work.

He was content to languish comfortably under Geechee's care.

As for me, my divorce had become final,

and I was busy working on Jacob's Ladder.

I sensed it was more honest and alive...

than anything I'd ever written,

but I couldn't bring myself to send it to Maxwell Perkins.

I couldn't face rejection;

Not with Jacob's Ladder.

Put that back.

That belong to Miss Marjorie.

Did you hear me?

I hear you.

You want marmalade or molasses?

I said, you want marmalade or molasses with your pancake?

Geechee, I'd like to speak to Leroy alone.

We've had frost warnings.

Paul could use your help in the grove.

I'll chop a little wood for you tomorrow.

I have better things in mind than, than working in the grove.

Leroy, you'll have to leave.

I suppose Geechee will want to go with you, and I'll be sorry to see her go...

but this is not gonna work out.

I packed.

I'll be going off with Leroy now.

Well, guess I'll be goin'.

- I got somethin' to asks you. - Certainly.

You satisfied with my work around here?

Of course I am.

Then how come you let me go, just like that?

I assumed you wanted to go.

So what if I did wanted to?

What kind of person would let another person

do somethin' they know would hurt her?

Geechee, I don't understand you.

I don't have any right to stop you.

You do if you care about me. You know what Leroy gonna do to me...

use me up and spend all his time in juke joints,

drinkin' up my paycheck, just like before.

I had a good life here. I got a better life at the Creek than...

I don't want you to go. I thought that you knew that.

How am I supposed to know that?

It's easy to get somebody for cookin' and sweepin'.

I think of you as a friend.

You care about me, and you was gonna let me go away?

It's very difficult to leave someone you've been with.

Afterwards, the loneliness...

I understand lonesome.

My life with Leroy was lonesome.

Probably would be again.

But you a woman, and you live by yourself...

and don't nobody take advantage of you.

I been watchin' how you do it.

That's what I wanna be like.

That's somethin' I learned off of you.

I ain't goin' on no train with Leroy, and that's final!

He ain't never done nothin' but wrong to me.

Ain't never been nobody ever done for me what you done...

givin' me decent wages and lendin' me your car.

No, us'll do fine! Us'll do better!

I'm glad you're staying, Geechee. I really am.

Now that we friends, I got somethin' to tell you you don't know.

- What is it? - On paper, you might be real smart,

but in real life, you got a lot to learn... a whole lot.

Oh, is that so?

You can't go lettin' people you like walk out on you.

You almost lost me.

You're gonna lose Mr. Norton too.

I don't wish to discuss it.

I don't know why I stay with you for, you old, bad-tempered woman!

Just crazy, I guess.

I guess so.

Bubber!

♪ Somebody stole my old coot dog I wish she'd bring him back ♪

♪ Kicked all them big hogs over the fence ♪

♪ Little ones through the cracks ♪

♪ Oh, trouble, trouble, trouble I've had it all my days ♪

♪ Just looks like old trouble gonna follow me to my grave ♪

- All right! - Hey!

Thank you for comin...

I brought you a cake.

Thanks. Bubber, she baked me a cake.

You know, she was hopin' that you were gonna bake her a birthday cake.

I was hopin' you'd make it a bourbon cake.

It's a chocolate layer cake.

I guess we'll have to sample my home brew, then.

Would you like a taste? Here we go.

A little one for Miss Rawlings.

I know you have to save yourself for your writin', Marjorie.

So we got you a pitcher of sassafras tea over there.

Well, this will do me fine. Thank you.

Pour, Lily. Thank you, Lily.

- Norton, this one's for you. - Easy, Marsh.

I'd like to propose this toast to my darling daughter Ellie...

on her 14th birthday.

Here's to you, sugar.

Happy birthday, Ellie.

Bubber?

Could I cut the first piece for Flag?

It's your birthday, sweetheart. You go right ahead!

Floyd! Boy, play somethin' for us, will you?

You were given the perfect day to celebrate on.

Thanks.

Flag!

Flag! Flag!

Flag, please!

Flag!

Flag!

Thurston, help me!

Flag! Flag, stop! Flag!

Please, Flag! Stop!

Flag, no!

My husband is a gentleman.

Whatever he does wrong, he'll set right.

You yearned to have a pet of your own, and I didn't have the heart to deny you.

We've done an injustice to Flag.

He's not human.

He's not a critter.

He belongs in the woods. We've crippled him, daughter.

He wouldn't know how to survive.

I promise, he won't get out again.

You can't pen him up forever.

Well, I'll walk him after my chores are done.

Look, Bubber. He's being real good now. He didn't mean any harm.

Marjorie.

Please, Bubber. Don't make me give him up.

I don't think you're givin' me any choice.

Marsh, maybe if the pen was a little stronger.

He'd go right through it, or he'd go right over it.

Marsh, please.

Can't we try?

I'll think about it.

I'm not makin' you a promise! Do you understand me?

Yes, sir.

I'll think about it.

Come on, Ellie.

It's gonna be all right.

Out here, you just can't afford to have no softness in you.

Daily life don't allow it.

You know Ellie's special to me, don't you?

She always has been.

She's the one that stays up at night waitin' for me.

She calls me "Bubber."

If anything happened to that girl, I don't think I could live.

That's the way it is. That's how much I care.

Might not make much sense. That's the way it is.

- I understand that. - Do you?

Why do you insist on...

prolongin' the problem?

She loves that animal. It's gonna have to be shot.

- Why? - You see. It's almost full-grown.

It's not only gonna destroy my crops, it's gonna get yours.

It's gonna get everybody's up and down this creek.

Not if that new fence holds.

What if it don't, Miss Marjorie?

It's Ellie's last days of childhood, Marsh.

Hmm! It'll be a stronger fence.

I hope so.

Oh, Lordy.

We held our breaths,

praying that the fence would be strong enough.

Days passed, and Ellie's deer stayed within the confines of the pen.

Jacob's Ladder was finished,

but I was afraid to let Max Perkins see it...

until I felt it was perfect.

Marjorie,

this is a good story.

Max will like it, Marjorie.

I might as well bring a suitcase over, I spend so much time out here.

That's not necessary.

Marjorie.

Marjorie.

I'm tryin' to propose.

I don't want to get married.

I eat with you, I sleep with you,

I worry over your writing with you.

If that's not being married, I don't know what is.

I just haven't time for marriage.

You have time for Paul...

and Ellie and Geechee.

Well, that's different. They're friends.

You'd want more of me, and I wouldn't be able to give it to you.

That's a damn lousy excuse.

Why isn't what we have good enough for you?

It's not.

It'll have to be.

Marjorie, you're so busy writing and living other people's lives...

that you're cutting your own out.

Now you can't hide from feelings.

I'm not in love with you.

I don't believe that.

I deliberately turned away from Norton,

for I believed that I couldn't be a wife and a writer.

My relationship with Charles had proved that to me.

I chose to isolate myself,

and I used my work as a refuge.

Max?

Max Perkins?

What in the world are you doing here?

Oh.

Oh, uh, something to prod the Muses with.

Thank you.

Mr. Baskin here was kind enough to offer me a lift.

He suggested I come out right away.

I'm sure he did.

I hope I'm not intruding.

No. I'm just... surprised to see you.

I've just been on a visit with Ernest in Key West.

Thought I'd just drop by and see how you were.

Well, you couldn't call because she doesn't have a phone.

You already have an open bottle, Marjorie.

Max drinks only the best.

Oh, we can start on that one, and then finish off on yours later on.

Mmm.

You haven't written to me lately, Marjorie.

I don't think my writing interests you.

I'll get some glasses.

A bit chilly.

Your last letter didn't go down so well.

Oh, dear. Not another gothic. So what is it this time, Marjorie?

Another governess packed off to Wales, destitute and filled with foreboding?

You've made it clear that you don't like my gothics, Max.

Correct.

I've wondered why you bother wasting your precious time on such an untalented novice.

I had hoped that anyone who was as desperate

to write as you were would eventually...

Damn it, Max Perkins, you're a coward!

You didn't dare tell me the truth!

Well, I must admit... I did stall.

You can be most formidable, Marjorie.

You let me believe I had talent.

You may be one of the most talented writers...

I've had the pleasure of working with.

I have here some of your finest work...

your letters...

the letters I kept looking forward to.

Oh, not because I missed your good company.

But because, when you write about your life here,

that's when your writing's at its best, Marjorie.

I sensed all that some time ago.

Thank you.

Marjorie, he'll like it.

It's a good story.

You never did even get to the end.

You never gave me the chance.

Smells good.

Cooking is Marjorie's one vanity.

- Max. - Thank you, Marjorie.

I know that... I gave it to you too soon.

It wasn't ready for you to read yet.

Well, dear,

I liked it, and I'm gonna publish it.

Does $700 seem fair to you?

Yes.

Yes, Mr. Perkins, that sounds fine to me.

Miss Rawlings!

Miss Raw... Miss Rawlings!

You have to help me! Flag escaped.

- Go home, Marjorie. - Marsh.

Go home, please. I feel responsible for this.

No, it's this girl that has to be responsible now, not you.

Darlin'... we had ourselves a bargain.

Now you gotta do what's right.

Daughter, listen to me.

A family can't starve over the love of an animal.

Now, take it.

I ain't doin' it, Bubber. You can't make me.

- Take it. - Bubber, please, no!

Bubber, no! Stop it, Bubber!

Bubber, please! I promise!

I'll mend the fence, and I'll plant some new crops! Please, Bubber!

I'll make it up to you! Bubber, please listen to me!

Please, Bubber! Bubber, please!

Please! Bubber!

Stop him!

- Ellie. - He'll listen to you.

- I can't stop him. - He hates Flag. He always has.

That's my deer! He doesn't have the right to do that!

Bubber, no!

You go back to the house now!

Go back to the house! Go on! Get out of here!

I hate you!

I hate you so much! You fight me! I hate you! Fight me!

I hate you so much! Fight me! Fight me back!

Fight me! I hate you! I'll always hate you!

Not bad.

Let's see.

Don't be worried about me now.

Here we go. You made one?

Uh-oh!

You're in big trouble now.

Goddamn, what was that?

What is that? What the hell?

Did you see who that was? Marsh! Marsh!

Ellie!

Ellie!

Ellie!

Ellie?

Ellie?

She'll come home.

Don't make no difference.

It'll never be the same again.

Marsh, it's me, the sheriff.

How are you doing, Jake? Put down that gun.

You want it? It's yours.

The sheriff shot, and Marsh fell.

And it was the end of glamour at Cross Creek.

I'm the only person who knows...

who understands... that when Marsh Turner spoke to the sheriff,

it was without menace.

I'm sure he was offering the sheriff the offending gun,

exactly as he'd once offered me his trespassing hogs.

Ellie...

You don't belong here.

I wish you never came to Cross Creek.

You're not one of us.

Why don't you take your stories and leave us be?

Cross Creek ain't for you.

I loved the Creek.

I loved the grove.

Suddenly, they were nothing.

Miss Rawlings!

Miss Rawlings!

Miss Rawlings!

I missed you!

We'll beat it. We worked all year nursin' those oranges.

I ain't gonna let a freeze have 'em. Don't worry.

Get in there. Ask Geechee what's to be done.

Go on now. Go on now. Come on with me. Come on, y'all.

Take on off.

I should have come sooner.

Good friends shouldn't keep apart.

And that little Mary was keeping up with us, just slushin' through the mud.

One time, she was right here...

and there was her shoes about ten feet back, stuck in the mud.

Would you like a cup of coffee?

That'd hit the spot. Thank you.

I want to thank you for your help.

I just happened to be passin' through the neighborhood.

At 5:30 in the morning?

At 5:30 in the mornin'.

I heard you was doin' poorly.

Yeah? Mmm.

Pinin' away for an old beau.

I'm doing extremely well.

So I see.

- Listen, would you like to... - Yes.

Get married?

- Just like I figured. - You certainly are sure of yourself.

You didn't miss me at all?

Not a bit, Mr. Baskin. Not a bit.

I had become a part of Cross Creek.

I was more than a writer.

I was a wife, a friend,

a part of the earth.

Who owns Cross Creek?

The earth may be borrowed, not bought;

May be used, not owned.

It gives itself, in response to love and tenderness,

offers its seasonal flowering and fruiting.

Cross Creek belongs to the wind and the rain,

to the sun and seasons,

to the cosmic secrecy of seed...

and beyond all,

to time.