Cross Creek Page #3

---

at least 8 hours a day.

All right, I've decided

to hire your friend Paul.

Ha! 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.

[Horse nickers]

Ellie!

This old bed may seem

like pure "D" trash to you,

but if you want it, it's yours.

It's beautiful, Marsh.

Well, it's been layin' up

in my barn about 50 years.

You want it?

Way I figure, a thing

deserves to be used.

Used right.

You livin' nice.

You're taking care of this old grove.

You're the one to have it.

Been sittin' up all these years

waitin' for the right person.

[Horse nickers]

You got bugs in them collards.

You 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,

painted your house,

planted some collards,

bought yourself a mule.

Fixed your car.

I think you're settlin' in.

We gonna take you

on a gator hunt real soon.

Thank you.

First we gonna start out

with something easy,

say a Bear hunt.

Marsh...

You want it, Marjorie?

It's yours. Come on.

[Typewriter clicking]

Marjorie:
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 Cyprus 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.

A story wasn't half-finished,

and my funds were trickling slowly away.

Whoo-ho!

Whoo-whoo, sooie!

[Pigs snorting]

Hog! Hog! Hyah! Hyah!

Oh, for heaven's sake. Geechee!

Hyah!

Marjorie:
For Pete's sake!

Get out of there!

Get, get! Get out of here!

Get on! Aah!

Miss Rawlings they got your...

Marjorie:
Mr. Turner.

Good afternoon, ma'am.

Go on, get outta here!

Get, get! Look at this.

Yah! Yah! Damn it, go on!

[Pigs snorting]

Mr. Turner, your pigs ate my flowers.

I see my hogs been bothering you.

If them hogs ever come

back here to bother you,

them's your hogs!

Haa! Soo!

Ya-yo!

Yo-ho!

Yo, hog! Damn you!

Hyah! Hyah!

Hyah!

Whoa!

[Giggling]

I'm done to suit you?

Yes.

You trust me?

Yes.

I 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 gotta get out, I can't stand it.

"You gotta get me a job,

so they let me out."

He in the state prison.

You can get him out.

You can write 'em a letter

and say you got work for him.

But it says here,

"20 years for manslaughter."

He didn't do nothin'.

The other n*gger was layin' 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

out 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'd listen to you.

'Cause you the writer.

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

[grunting]

This is my cousin, Tim.

Him and his wife come out to help.

Marjorie:
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... Leaves will be comin' 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

out of 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.

Uhh.

Well?

Tim?

That was a good day's work, thank you.

Ma'am,

[Stammering]

The w-wife needs

to use the w-water pump once a day.

I w-wouldn't ask,

but she'll be havin' a child shortly.

She's welcome to use mine.

If she needs anything at all...

W-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 the cross

[door hinge squeaks]

Tim said it'd be all right.

Of course it's all right.

Would you like to sit down

and rest for a minute?

[Pump squeaks and water runs]

It's heavy.

Thank you, ma'am.

Marjorie:
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!

[Crickets chirping]

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?

I don't mind if I do.

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.

Hmm.

We could eat it in the mornin'.

Don't you think that'd

be a good idea, Marjorie?

Is your governess

still lost on 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.

[Baby gurgles]

[Humming]

I thought you might like that.

How are you getting on?

Nothin' extra.

There ain't no screens

to the house, and...

The skeeters like to eat us alive.

Can't keep the antses

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote