Original subtitles

- Aren't we all roots from the same

tree of life, connected to our world,

floating in a vast swirling universe,

where our innocence collides with life,

like a shot in the dark?

Why have we not taken on this journey with life as one?

Aren't we all here together, searching for how it is

that we are somehow connected?

Maybe if we just found our way

through the darkness together,

the light of life will shine on us.

Don't wanna stir spirits

who live in mirrors, that's how they'll outflank you.

- The wilderness is a beast, come and get me.

- It's good to see you, report please.

- Yeah, probably put the firing squad on me,

for bootstrapping with a dirty dog Indian.

Catch up, Cherokee.

- Why do we not all find our ways

with the wonders of life,

rather than the wars of our differences?

Become one with our world floating in a sea of stars.

I feel like I'm drowning,

rather than swimming toward the light of life,

I find myself fighting with my own feelings.

I try to run from the shadows

of the chasing darkness of this war.

It's good to know that Gettysburg is behind us,

even though I don't know what it has done to us.

- Why'd you let this war come between us?

- You're one lucky dog, Samuel Barnett.

- Watch out, day's getting hot, boys.

Gray's gonna send every black and blue he got at us.

What's this?

You best be careful who you muster up with.

That boy's love to scalp you

when the lightning strikes, Carolina.

Hey I'm watching you, Cherokee.

You, what? Hey, good water is hard to find.

- So are fighting men that can shoot straight.

I'd be a whole lot luckier

if I didn't have to look after no Injun soldier boy.

- What is it?

- Come on out.

Let my savage soul bring furious hell

upon you, Yankee dog.

- My God, this place ain't no Getty,

it's full of earth's spirits out there.

It's a kid.

- Just like you, when you first killed

another man in this war.

Wrong place, wrong time, just like all of us.

- Wait. - For what?

Some blue-bellied sharpshooter use that black bird dog,

could flush us out into his killing sights?

- Come on kid, you gotta get outta here.

- I don't care he's a nigger just the same,

you're gonna die for it.

Missed.

Fire.

- Let's win it, come on.

- Die, damn Yankee devil.

Die.

- He survived.

- He said he wanted to go home.

Yankees coming down from the North, thick as fleas.

- Hell, mm-hmm, gotta be.

Ain't no slaves in heaven.

- Ain't no slaves here Reb, 'cause we free.

Richmond gonna fall to the Union, and when that's done,

ain't going to be no more laws

and manumission papers no more.

Uncle Abe says we've got rights.

- Ain't nothing in this world

that's gonna make you Negroes free.

- You Rebs got no more fighting left to be won.

Ain't nothing gonna change that, neither.

- What is freedom? - Mr. Magian.

- He's got the shine.

- Why isn't freedom free?

The powers of we been good to me.

Negro, white, slave, soldier, even Johnny Reb,

are all the same when it comes to finding the freedom

that it takes to inspire right from wrong,

and the spirit of our good nature.

So tell us, what inspires you?

- Getting back to the fight,

making sure that Negroes stay in their place.

- Mm, home is the place to be for sure.

There ain't nothing better than sitting

on your very own front porch,

with the one you love back in, ah, Charleston.

- You don't know nothing about me, spook.

- Is that right?

Well, what I do know is that you was found just in time,

lost out in the wilderness, looking for the path home.

Now let's take a look and see what I might have to do

to put the shine on you.

- You get your voodoo hands off of me.

- Mm-hmm, oh well, a lotta healing to do,

so as I can get you back on the road to Adena.

No more fighting left in you, no more killing.

- You don't know nothing about me or Adena.

- Mm, she's right there in your eyes.

She been waiting on you a mighty long time,

been needing you something fierce.

- It's just a kid, it's just a kid.

- Wrong place, wrong time.

You're gonna die for it.

- Samuel, Samuel, Samuel.

- Adena!

You. - Jeremiah.

You ready to be going home now?

- How long have I been here? - Days.

- Where am I? What is this place?

- A special place where Mr. Magian put the shine on you.

- What?

- Home, that's where you said you wanted to go.

- Okay , okay.

I'm a soldier.

I can get that.

You and me are an eye for an eye, boy.

- Hey, what's it like in Charleston?

- It's home.

- I always wanted to see the sea.

- You got a home, boy?

Well I do, and if I don't keep soldiering and fighting,

I won't neither.

You and me is done, but my fighting ain't.

- There's no turning back.

- I ain't gonna let no spook

keep me from the fight.

Gonna keep them the slaves they were meant to be.

The South will always be.

- Home's this way.

- My only home is the fight I'm in here and now.

I don't need another shadow, boy.

- Ain't never gonna find your way home without these.

- I swear by my Confederate soul,

the next time I will shoot to kill.

Skin you alive, boy.

Come on back, bring me those letters, you hear?

Let's get this over with.

I'm coming for you, come get what's coming to you.

I'm gonna catch you and bury you, boy.

Come on, we're even, boy.

Come on, give me those letters back,

and we can go our separate ways.

Boy!

I saved you, you did what you did.

We're as even as two foot-long snakes, nothing more.

Not even a dead man would ask

a little black snake for directions home.

Ah.

Gotcha, thieving snake.

Oh, my letters.

Come on out snipe, so I can gut you

like a rabid Yankee hedgehog that you are.

- Just go away.

- Whoa.

I love you, darling.

My wildflower, and gunpowder too.

- Marbles and bullets.

- I know you're out there, you little Black snake.

You may be a snake, but I'm a big old alligator.

An eye for an eye.

I used to be able to see home in that big old marble.

- Wow.

- Roll the bullet, all right.

- Stop right there, you butchering "Dixieland" Yankee.

- Who's there? Beatrice, who's there?

You have to be my eyes now.

Whomever it is, it may appear that we are at a disadvantage,

but I assure you we are not.

Let it be known that we are specially trained

music ensemble that at any time could be turned

to a vital and quite lethal weapon of war.

So I, I must warn you that if you do not introduce yourself

in an appropriate manner, then,

well not proper, but an introduction nonetheless.

However, I still must warn you about the impending danger

you bring upon yourself,

unless you throw down your arms and surrender.

- Surrender?

God damn, stop.

Drop that hell horn, drop that hell horn.

- You drop that firearm.

You, you gave us no choice.

Me and Beatrice gave you ample warning.

- I'm warning you, I'll put a hole in you

and that ear-bender, sure as you're a yellow-bellied Yankee.

- No, no, don't shoot my Beatrice.

Don't shoot my Beatrice.

We surrender, we surrender.

- State your name and rank, Yankee Doodle.

- Private Emmitt Ellsworth Decatur III,

saxophonist for the Army of the Potomac, Sixth Army Corps,

Second Brigade of the Sixth of Maryland,

under the command of Brigadier General Truman Seymour,

and this here's my Beatrice, and you sir?

- Yankee Hunter, Mr. Yankee Hunter.

- Oh, talk about playing out of tune.

You forgive me for a moment, sir.

I failed to recall my musical abilities

have led me so far astray.

But I suppose it started at the Battle of the Wilderness.

- The Wilderness?

- Yes sir, we were playing "Battle cry of Freedom",

derived from the illustrations

of the illustrious Mr. GF Root,

for the brave fighting soldiers of the Sixth Army.

- Last time I heard that song,

it sounded like the knell of doom.

I never wanna hear that song again.

- I guess it truly is a challenging melody for the soul.

Just as we brought wing to a soothing E-flat,

there was a bright flash, and then black darkness.

It was so loud, our ears were ringing.

Sir, although it may seem as though we are fighting soldiers

of the Sixth Army, our true, true goal is only to,

to make this war the most enjoyable experience

for everyone involved.

- Well, ain't you a real grave-digging songbird?

- Well, nature is a, a difficult act to follow,

but I do believe my Beatrice is up to the challenge.

She does have the means to inspire.

Let me show you I, I'll play you a song.

I think you'll like this.

- You said you were part of the Battle of the Wilderness?

- Yes sir, yes sir, forest so thick, grass for ants.

That won't stop General Grant's Army of the Potomac, no sir.

But what's, what, what's that? What?

No, I don't think that.

Well it's just, I don't think anything I said

would jeopardize the mission in any case, I-

- Hey, keep yodeling, Yankee.

- Yes of course, I will continue.

Um, as I was saying, me and Beatrice play music

and that's all we know, really.

- Huh, big brass Beatrice.

- No, no, no, don't shoot the Beatrice.

I will, I will tell you everything I know.

All I know is that General Grant

will be taking Richmond any day now.

- Richmond? - Yes sir.

- How's he gonna do that?

- Well, well, we don't that, but we would be more than happy

to provide some fine musical entertainment

for you and all your men, as a token of our appreciation

for not killing us.

- Well, you hear that guys?

We've got a bugle boy

that wants to play us some good old Confederate tunes

on our way to Richmond.

Oh yeah, yeah, we would like that.

Yo, why don't you play the song you were butchering

when we captured you, only this time play it right.

- Oh yes, yes, "Dixie",

another challenging melody to the soul.

- Move and march.

I believe we'll follow you to Richmond.

Oh, you just keep on marching.

- Have you ever been to Baltimore, Mr. Hunter?

- Samuel.

- Where are you from, Samuel?

- Not Baltimore.

How long has it been since you've been home?

- Nine months, if I recall, to nine days for me.

I don't know how many days of darkness it's been.

Do you have a sweetheart back home?

I have received many letters from my beautiful wife Adele-

- Adele. - Since I have been gone.

Smell like mint juleps.

I truly don't know what I'd do without her.

Say, do you think you could read me one of these letters?

I would be ever so grateful.

Samuel, Samuel?

- Stop following me. - Samuel, where are you?

- Stop, stop Samuel. - Samuel?

- Get your hands off me. - Who's there?

- Let, let me go. - Who you got there?

- A little Black snake, who won't stop following me.

- It's not fair, and it won't stop chasing me, that's it.

- Don't be, don't be scared of him.

A wild Pegasus, just wandering through

the dark in the woods.

What's your name, boy? - Jeremiah.

- Oh, a name from the good book.

- That hounds me like the devil.

- I ain't no devil.

- Well, you sure as sin ain't an angel on my shoulder.

You almost got me killed in the wilderness.

- And where are you from, young man?

- Same place as Mr. Samuel, that's what it says in this.

"Let it be known that Jeremiah J. Bowman," that's me,

"was born to his father, Isaiah Bowman,

and his mother Iris on July 12th, 1853,

in Charleston, South Carolina,

and is property of the John William Proper estate.

His father, Isaiah Bowman and mother Iris

were sold to Mr. Hartman by Mr. Proper on June-

- Where did you learn to read, boy?

- Mrs. Proper taught us.

- Nothing proper about it.

No little heathen needs to know how to-

- That is a fine gift, young man.

It is a pleasure to meet you, my name is Emmitt.

- Nice to meet you.

- Ain't nothing but a runaway.

- I ain't no runaway. I'm free, and I got a purpose.

- You're a bullseye on my back.

That's as far from being free is I am from fighting

like a dirty dog in the dark.

- Darkness is all that I see,

that and the music in my head,

and sounds and voices of the moment.

Jeremiah I wonder if you would,

it'll be okay if you would read a letter.

- Yes, sir. - No, hold on a minute.

I am in charge. - Huh?

- You are still my prisoner,

and if there's gonna be any letter,

that's gonna be read, it's gonna be one of mine, go on.

And for my wicked ways, I'm surrounded by

a Baltimore horn blower and a black-eyed pea with purpose.

- Beatrice is more than just a horn, she is a sax horn.

A-a-a, a E-flat bass tuba to be exact.

- Would you like some biscuit and honey?

- Oh, I would play boats until morning

for biscuits and honey.

- Well, where did you get those, boy?

Well, ain't you all dodging bullets

and sour buttermilk?

- Oh, it's Beethoven, Bach, and Mozart,

all baked into a symphony for the senses, mm-mm.

Jeremiah, could you read one of my letters now?

I would be most everly grateful.

- Yes, sir.

"My dearest Emmitt."

- That's my girl, Adele.

- Samuel's wife's name is Adena.

Adena and Adele, sounds like they'll be real good friends.

- I ain't know being friends with a Baltimore blue coat.

- "Last evening, sister Vera and I went to a concert

at the Herba Pavil-"

- The Harbor Pavilion.

It is a wondrous place, where the lights

from the boats in the city shine like gemstones.

- Are you going to let the boy read the letter or not?

- Of course I, I apologize Jeremiah for interrupting.

Please continue.

- "How I missed you, my darling.

I'm so proud of you for playing music for the fighting men.

I wonder how that must be,

such beautiful music and the sound of war together.

When will this war be over, and you could come home?

I hope that you can see me when you play,

and close your eyes at night.

I am there Emmitt, with you always.

Why do we not find the same truth?

Why do we not see the same future?"

- The end.

- All we have to do now is find our way home to Adele,

that's all, now you just relax.

- All right, now reads the letter for me.

What are you chuckling about Yankee?

- I can't see what you said, but I did hear what you say,

that you can't read.

- You shut your blowhole.

I'll cut you so deep, you will never kiss that horn again.

- Well, it should be easy for you.

You don't have to look me in the eye.

What are you waiting for, Yankee Hunter?

The only one of us that's alive is that boy.

He's got his whole life ahead of him,

has a chance to go out and maybe play music,

and not fight in a war.

Just play music.

Don't you worry, don't you worry at all.

We are going to be fine.

You and me are just gonna go play music from now on.

Now you just relax, you listen to, to Priscilla,

play one of your favorite Mozart melodies.

- My dearest husband.

- Why is this world of ours so cruel?

How could this have happened to us in our time of life?

My darling.

- Mr. Samuel, Mr. Samuel.

Mr. Samuel, wake up.

- Don't you do that.

Don't you ever do that again, boy.

I have killed for less than that.

- Mr. Emmitt. - What?

- Mr Emmitt. - Where is he?

Wh-where's that Yankee horn blower?

- Gone, must've went back to Baltimore.

- Well, he is my prisoner.

Come on boy, oh God.

Damn federal fox, how'd he do that?

- His Beatrice must've showed him the way.

- The hell horn? - You mean sax horn,

E-flat, bass tuba. - Damn Yankee,

walking around blind as a bat, his shoulder cannon

loaded with nothing but Baltimore blanks,

he's gonna get himself killed, all for biscuits and honey.

Boy?

By George,

that's the last chance you're gonna get.

You can't dodge doom forever, boy.

Huh?

Damn, I almost shot you.

You boys seen a blue-bellied sharpshooter come through here?

- He just came through that hole.

- You know, I coulda shot all of y'all,

playing that damn deserter music.

Now, you drop them ear benders.

You start fighting a real fight.

I'm gonna shoot all of you, every one of you,

put you outta your cowardly misery.

- You can't win a war playing music, not even Yankee music.

- Jesus, man.

- Samuel.

- Samuel.

Samuel.

Samuel. - God, boy.

- It's time to go home now, just like Mr. Emmitt.

- That horn blower is probably

lying dead out there, ashes of ruin with Beatrice.

He's never gonna get back to Baltimore

to play that music at the-

- Harbor Pavilion. - Yeah.

- The lights from the boats,

and the city shines like gemstones.

- What's Adele gonna do if he don't come home?

- What's Adena gonna do if you don't come home?

I got purpose.

Lots of Yankees crossed the James River at Petersburg,

and now heading for Richmond.

- Richmond.

- Gonna surround it, and end this war.

- Samuel.

- Ah, still water is piss water.

What, goobers? - Mm-hmm.

- Come on, where are they? - Mm-mm.

- Give it, come on. - Mm-mm.

- Come on. - Mm.

- Yeah, mm-mm.

- Got these too.

- Sardines and hardtack? Come here.

That's scarce as hen's teeth.

Huh, and don't you eat this hardtack, neither.

It'll break your teeth.

Next thing you know, you'll be telling me

you're Dishonest Abe's right-hand man.

Where'd you get these?

- Yankees, big as fleas, moving toward Richmond,

just like I told you.

- Well, I ain't seen no Yanks.

- Wh-what about Mr. Emmitt? He's a Yank.

- Oh, he don't count, he's just a parlor soldier,

got no business out here dodging hornets and sawbones.

- He's still a Yank.

- He ain't like no Yank I know of.

- How many have you known?

- Only ones I killed and that horn blower.

- How many did you kill? - I don't know.

- I thought you said you knew all the ones you killed.

- I don't know 'em, know 'am, like I know the horn blower

and you, but I know 'em.

But I know 'em,

when I got 'em in my sights, and I shoot and they fall,

somehow I know 'em.

You gotta know boy, no matter what you do in life,

it sticks to you like tree sap, never goes away, never.

- Maybe if everybody knew each other

like you and me and Mr. Emmitt, things would be different.

- Ah damn, well I'm tired of this, huh?

"My dearest husband," yeah.

- Why do want me to keep reading it to you,

when you already know what it says?

- "I'm writing this letter to tell you

that I still hate this war," let me hear it.

- "My dearest husband"- - Husband,

I've written and sent letters that seem

to have vanished in the winds of war.

When my memories sink into the night,

I find myself trying to strangle

the life outta the loneliness,

with the one red ribbon that you sent me.

Nothing, nothing but this war.

- Samuel, come here. - Boy, get outta there,

before you get us both killed.

- I don't see no Yanks or Rebs.

- We need to check every train car

up and down the tracks.

- Don't tell me that train is filled with biscuits, honey.

Yanks, what? No.

- Watch out for the little runaway.

We use them as spies. - Woohoo.

Can't catch me.

- Come here, boy. - Hey.

- Can't catch me.

- Get away from that train, boy.

- There he goes.

- Run rabbit, run.

- This way, I've got him.

- Coffin?

General Rum, looking as dead as a tree stump.

- Yeah, looking mighty ready

to have a showdown with Saint Pete.

I hope that you're not planning on bartering

to get through the pearly gates with this.

Ah, it's horse manure, but all right.

Oh, help me help you with the curse of the evil spirits.

Oh, and this shall be your salvation and mine

in the name of the Heavenly Father,

I ask you that mercy on his soul and mine.

Come on, ah, amen.

Holy smoke,

together we will charge into the battle

for heaven, for hell.

Mm, and here's to that damn fool kid,

riding me like a lost shadow.

- I was saving that for God.

- Yes sir, didn't see no God, General Rum.

- That is for the rough road ahead.

- General, a smooth steel wheel

is gonna get you where you're gonna go.

- We are led to the grave, for death is our shepherd.

- Death?

- Guard your rum, for it is the wellspring of life.

The sacredness that beholds truth of your inner nature.

- Are we on the sacred vessel?

- Oh, it takes courage, Samuel Barnett.

Challenge the inhibitions of your inner beast.

You son, a slave to your own salvation,

for the very hell of this war that continues

to assault the gates of hell and, and your soul.

It is time, be the lighting rod of change,

and fight with the fury you did

in the battle for the wilderness,

for the very essence of righteousness itself.

And for this, you have been chosen.

Chosen?

- The boy is your salvation.

- Jeremiah? - He is the spark

in your darkness, and illuminates the path

of your righteousness and salvation.

- But I can still fight.

- For the light, or for the darkness

that possesses your soul.

- No, no! No!

- You, you must choose for one

with the light of life, or the darkness of war.

You are at the crossroad.

- I have courage to, to fight for the light.

I wanna be the chosen one,

to fight for righteousness and my soul.

- Then you must follow the boy to the edge of your darkness.

You must become a bridge for humanity and harmony.

- Help me, I just want your help.

- With wings of fire, fly like hell to heaven.

- Oh, are we on the sacred vessel?

Oh I, I just, I just wanna go home.

Train's not moving. - Samuel, Samuel.

- I have been chosen.

- Keep your eyes out for Rebs,

they're everywhere.

- You stay in here, they're gonna find you for sure.

- Ain't no Reb's gonna bushwhack me.

You find him, you shoot him.

Boy, get away from that train, boy.

- Just follow me.

Woohoo, you've been chosen.

- Don't let 'em get away.

- The woods, now don't you stop.

- Try, Samuel. - Keep going, rabbit.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

- Do you know how to fly?

- Do you know how to swim?

- Did you find them? - Come out, I got 'em.

Pa, a bear.

- A, a bear, a Confederate bear.

- When you're being chased by a pack of wolves,

be the bear.

I am Walks on Wind, and the yaga is out there everywhere,

even roaming with the white war.

- Samuel, is that your bear?

- Just as much as mine as he is yours.

He told me you were coming.

I see you've come around this cape,

and I'll make sure your wind will become black smoke

if you change direction on your journey home.

My Good Wind, you and I will always be one with the spirits.

- You know this Injun? - Kind of,

like you knew all them Yankees you killed.

I'm Good Wind.

- And I'm gone with the wind.

- Why must I be sententious?

I've been trying to keep- - Working with nature,

finding ways- - With its healing powers,

to see what I could come up with-

- To try help with the ailments.

- I sent you- - Some thimbleweed,

because they say Iroquois men-

- Sleep with it under their head-

- To induce dreams.

- I am fighting this war, too.

- You drink a little of this, dear.

Just a little, that's a dear, just a little.

Everyone around me

feels like they're slowly being strangled to death.

Even nature is lost, and hiding its healing ways

in the darkness, that threatens the light of life.

Maybe the sea is the last place to be,

where nature will forever fall,

and the tides of time will never stop,

even by the cruelty of this war.

- Look, come on.

Looks like a bird. - Man.

Is it dead?

- Dead? Hey you, old man.

- Oh, oh my head.

Oh, my head.

Ah, did you see it? Did you see it?

Oh, broken wing again, time is money.

- Oh, come on, come on. - Oh, I.

- All right, hold on, old-timer.

Sit down back there. - Thank you.

- Sit on back. - Thank you.

Thank you, thank you.

I am Otto Whaller Lementhal III, inventor extraordinaire.

But my friends and my patrons,

why they call me Whaller the Wonder. Well?

- I'm Jeremiah, and this is-

- War hornets and yellow jackets call me Samuel.

- Big old soldier boy, huh?

And a Negro boy no bigger than a grasshopper.

Oh, I guess now you can say I've seen everything.

Wh-what's important is, did you see me?

- What? - Son, I was flying.

Way up there, I was up there flying with the birds, huh?

- Vultures? - I soared like an eagle-

- And landed head first in the drink.

- Well sure, it just needs a minor modification,

and I'll be back flying again with the birds.

- Maybe grow some real wings.

- Come on, help me with these.

There we are, put it down there, by it.

- Yes sir.

- What about the war going on around here?

- War, what war? - The Civil War.

- My good man, I don't have time

to be involved in any wars, I'm an inventor.

I create things for a better future.

- Think you can fix them?

- Oh yes siree, Jeremiah.

Every man knows that he needs a good backup, right soldier?

- Mm, and lots of bullets. - And marbles.

- Oh, the future is out there,

and it's gonna change all our lives, especially yours,

and nothing can stop it.

- We can change the future.

- I don't know.

- No time to waste when the wind is right.

Yes, and I am gonna fly, come on.

Whoa, whoa.

Oh, wow these work great.

I picked this here geographical spot, for it defies gravity.

Wanna learn to fly?

I'm Good Wind.

- Open your wings out like this, your arms.

Put them out like this, okay?

Take a deep breath, like the birds do,

to ride on the wing. - Come on.

- Little fella, it's all out there just a-waiting for you.

All you gotta do is believe,

trust in your heart, and just fly.

- He's gonna fly again.

- Like a cannonball that missed its target.

- It's a matter of physics.

You ever hear of Newton or Da Vinci?

They were great figures, far ahead of their time.

Now come fly, instead of wasting your time with war,

and the rest of the blood suckers.

Now all I have to do is adjust for a slight miscalculation,

and Whaller the Wonder will fly again.

- Yep.

- Here Jeremiah, hold these.

Come and fly, you and me, apple pie.

- Hold on there, little sparrow.

- Let's fly.

What did I tell you, my friends?

- He's flying.

- The future is yours and it's coming right at you,

but we all just dueling with destiny,

and nothing and nobody can stop it.

Come Jeremiah, and fly.

- Maybe we should all learn how to fly,

like Whaller the Wonder.

All you gotta do is believe.

Hopefully the future will change our lives for the better.

- Mm-hmm.

- Someday this war is gonna end.

I like that future,

don't you? - War.

- This world sure is a big place.

- You know, home is always far away,

especially when you're trying hard to get there.

- How far is it to Charleston?

- As far as it takes every leaf to fall from every tree.

- Do you know about the Hartman plantation?

- No. - Hartman.

How does a man get named after his heart?

It's gotta be a good thing, don't you think?

What's your last name? - Barnett.

- Why they name you that?

- Oh, my father's father come from England.

- What about Bowman? Where's that name come from?

- I don't know, probably it's English too.

- I thought my kind come from Africa.

Africa, I like the way that sounds.

Someday I'm gonna go to Africa.

Do you ever wanna go to England

to find out where you come from?

- I just wanna go home.

- I wonder how many different types

of people there are. - I don't know.

- What about Indians? - Hmm.

- How'd they get here?

- They was always here, as far as I know.

- They're already home. - Mm-hmm.

- You ever not had the choice

to do what you want? - What?

I didn't want to go to war.

- Well why did you?

- 'Cause some men believe different than others.

It's called politics.

- Politics? Hate-tics.

It doesn't sound as nice as Africa or England or Indians.

Doesn't feel good, like when you say home. You try it.

- Africa, England, Indians, home, politics.

Nope.

That just don't sound right at all.

- Yeah. - So is that why you Rebs

don't want everybody to be free?

People like me, Negroes, 'cause of one word

that doesn't sound right in the first place?

Is that what you think?

Do all Rebs think the same?

- You know, ever since I met you,

I don't know what to think.

One moment I was carving an angel

out of a piece of sycamore,

just wanting to kill a few Yanks.

Then you come wandering through the forest

like a newborn butterfly floating across the battlefield.

- Maybe that's why you and me is friends.

- I ain't got no friends, and the friends I did have,

they're dead out there in the wilderness.

Don't you start to cry, boy. Don't you cry.

Well, you go ahead, you, you cry, cry all you want to,

'cause someday you won't be able to, like me, damn.

- Why, Samuel?

- Samuel, hey, wake up.

- Am I awake? Are you awake?

- You hear that?

- What?

- Let's go.

- What is that?

- Let's go.

- Those fellas told him he coulda

made tracks for Canada, but he came home.

I'm mighty sorry to have to part with Tom.

I must say, you oughta let him cover

the whole balance of my debt,

if you had any conscious at all, Haley.

- Well, I am ready to do anything

within reason to oblige friends.

- Well then Haley, how will you trade?

- Well, haven't you got, you know,

a little girl or a little boy to throw in with Tom?

- What on earth can you want with a child?

- Why, my Jupiter.

Now there is an article

that you might make your fortune on.

- Mr. Haley, she is not to be sold.

My wife wouldn't part with her for all her weight in gold.

- Hmm.

- "Welcome to the Saturn traveling puppet theater.

Tonight's performance of the 'Uncle Tom's cabin,

or Life Among the Lowly,' written by Harriet Beecher Stowe.

Our puppet troop is originally from Baltimore, Maryland."

Just like Mr. Emmitt.

- Baltimore Yankees.

- Is our friendship for sale too?

- Oh I, I'm running away.

Aunt Chloe, Uncle Tom, I'm carrying off my child,

Master sold him. - Sold him?

- Yes, sold him, I crept into the closet

by the mistress' door tonight, tonight,

and I heard Master and Missus,

but he sold Harry and you, Uncle Tom.

Oh, the betrayal.

Please don't take him, please don't take my son.

- Why Samuel, why? - Please don't take my child.

Heaven, I'm putting my trust in thee.

They press upon my footsteps,

but the river is my only hope.

Courage, oh my child, we will be free or perish.

- I have faith in you, Samuel.

- Ride the river, become it, Samuel.

- The truth is by the birds. - Samuel!

- This journey lies between me and liberty.

Surely the ice will bear my traveling weight.

It is my only chance to escape.

Courage my boy, we have reached the river.

Let it flow between us and our pursuers.

But wait, how shall I save you from the bloodhounds?

Courage, my boy.

Protect me, I'd breech the cold waters

with my child left in my arms,

than have him torn from me and sold into bondage.

- Precious child,

we will be free,

- In Canada.

- Where's Eliza and baby Harry?

Ms. Tubman.

- I am Eliza, and Eliza is me.

Every great dream begins with a dreamer.

Always remember that you have in you the strength,

passion within you, to reach for the stars,

to change this world.

- Uncle Tom lives in all of us, until we're free.

- No ice, it's long past deciding

if you going to keep fighting the river's current,

or ride it to the promised land.

- Ride the river to the promised land.

- I can't.

- Ready for your freedom? - Ready for my freedom.

- Ms. Tubman, what about Uncle Tom?

What happened? Tell me.

- Uncle Tom's desperate cry rang out with fright.

All he could see was no hope in sight.

With faith all but gone, he met the one

who came looking for- - Jeremiah?

- Into the belly of the beast where there's no escaping

the darkness of savage souls.

We'll ride the underground into the abyss, or to freedom.

A feeling that uncle Tom never had the privilege of.

- Uncle Tom was a humble Negro.

- That was sold off to a black-booted man

by the name of Legree.

- Mr. Legree let it be knowed that his slaves

would soon find they've another kind of master

to deal with at St. Clare.

"Upon my word, I'll buy this fella for $1,200.

And your body, mind, and soul will forever be a servant

who will obey your master."

Uncle Tom says, "My soul ain't yours massa,

you haven't bought it."

- "You can't buy it, because it's been bought and paid for,

by the one that's able to keep it."

- "And you can't harm it."

- "We'll see," shouted Mr. Legree.

No.

- And there on the reputable plantation, Uncle Tom slaved.

And that child, is the beginning of this Civil War,

and it will be his demise.

Are you a soldier who fights with a conflict in his heart

that will lead him home, or into your hell?

- So Uncle Tom is dead?

- Ain't no way for a man to die, like that.

- You killed Uncle Tom.

- Ride into the darkness, or the light.

- Hopefully the future will change

all of our lives for the better.

- Jeremiah?

- Jeremiah.

- Jeremiah.

- I am not lost. - Turn around.

- I'm going home, I'm going home.

- I see the light. - Nothing.

Nothing, but this war.

- I'm coming home Adena, I'm coming to the light.

- No more war, I'm gonna end this.

I'm gonna end this war.

I'm coming for you, here I come.

We're gonna end this.

- Nothing but this war.

- No, no.

- Samuel, where are you?

Come home.

- Looks like another one found its way.

Looks like another one found its way, home sweet home.

But you never know if they're gonna come home

with hate or healing in their hearts.

- I thought you and me was friends.

- "May 5, 1864.

My dearest Samuel, my dearest sister's husband,

my dearest brother-in-law.

I don't know where you are, or even if you're still alive,

but I am writing to you this letter,

in spirit of my most beloved sister, and your wife, Adena.

As I reach to the bottom of my soul to find the words,

the only thing that consumes me is that Adena is gone,

and she is now on a journey to not only find you,

but also find everlasting peace and salvation.

Wherever you are, may her spirit guide you home,

out of the wilderness of war,

so that you can once again find each other,

and reunite as one."

- Maybe the sea is the last place to be.

- And a shake, and a pinch, and the cure of Ru will fix you,

whomever walks through the door.

- Looking for that path home, path home, path home?

- Ride into the darkness or the light.

- When you're being chased

by a pack of wolves, be the bear.

- You're one lucky dog, Samuel Barnett.

- And I tell you my friends, no time to waste

when the wind is right.

- Samuel you say? Oh Samuel.

It's so good to finally see you.

- Fly like hell into heaven,

for you have been chosen.

- At the edge of the sea, that's where I'll be.

- So you was found just in time,

lost out in the wilderness, looking for the path home.

- My wildflower?

- If you haven't left behind the Samuel

that I used to know in that war.

- The only reason I was chosen.

- It's him.

- Jeremiah?

- There's no beginning and end to life,

and us, we're home.

- Strange mystic hour,

when the veil between frail

and the eternal future grows thin.

Then came the messenger.