Deeply

Claude, leave them there.

I'll come back for them later.

You sure you don't want

to stay for a drink?

Some other time, Fi...

Gotta brush up my local charm.

Tourist season,

you know.

Do you mind taking

this mail to the blue house?

Watch out

for ghosts, kiddo!

Claire!

Uncle Peat!

Here she comes,

there's my girl.

Huh...

This must be Claire.

20 years in Europe...

- Long time away, Fiona.

I know.

I thought it was time she saw

where her family comes from.

Though Mom's probably rolling

in her grave with laughter.

There you go.

Oh! Leaving me

this place out of spite.

Franny did have

a cruel streak.

A bit of elbow grease

and it'll be as good as new.

That's rustic chic!

It's great.

What do you think,

Claire?

What do you think

about the old rock?

My opinion matters?

Claire!

- It takes...

some time

getting used to it.

Another 50 years,

you'll be fitting in just fine.

Hey!

I thought

you should practice.

I know what it gets like

when you leave it.

I told you

I was finished.

I told you!

It was just

an idea.

Claire!

She won't even cry.

L... you did the right

thing bringing her here.

You did

the right thing.

Go on...

Go on, imbecile.

Come on.

Hello?

Hello?

Eeny, meeny, miney, mo...

Who

in the Christ are you?

Make a habit in breaking

into strangers' homes.

Young mute girl took

a wrong turn at the mall?

I was asked to give

this to you... That's all.

God damned sissy Clyde!

His family was always

afraid its own shadows.

What did you do,

try to drown that?

PH...

Why they don't burn

all the books in the world?

No one's reading them,

'cause no one's publishing them.

Que sera sera.

Kiss my ass!

No one cares about

fairy tales anymore.

Goddamn publishers.

Bit'em in the ass!

They want rejection letters,

I'll show them

rejection letters...

I reject all these black

wearing know-it-alls.

Thinking, thinking... so busy

thinking they forget their hearts.

I reject these bloody

rusting clothes-pegs.

Never read

the end of a story first.

Ever!

A good story has

the power to heal the soul.

Typical.

You don't know me.

You don't know

anything about me.

Don't I know?

So I thought tomorrow...

we could pack a lunch

and go look around.

The lighthouse, maybe.

Or go hike to the point?

Claire?

Are you sleeping?

...private sector bids

to purchase local ocean frontage,

land considered traditional

fishing grounds,

deemed to be of no commercial

use to the communities,

after the mysterious disappearance

of fish stocks in recent years.

Sale of the land would bring

revenue to this part of the country.

Though scientists hold little hope

for the return of the stocks,

out of work fishermen

hold out for a miracle.

This is Andrew Young,

and that's the news for this hour.

It's 10:
15 and time for

a little mid-morning Bach.

I need a boat.

There's only

one boat on this island,

Peat's got it up on land.

Clyde won't be back

'til next week.

No way off

this time of the year.

That is unless

you've got fins.

Stupid deserted rock!

Fish's gone.

Kids grow up,

get jobs in the city.

What's your excuse?

It's quiet here.

Usually.

Well, I've got 20,000 breaths

in a day, kid...

I just wasted

about 18 on you.

I've got work to do!

You've got something

to say, say it fast.

Your story...

What's it about?

Stupid deserted rock!

Your basic love story.

By the sea.

Riveting.

You gotta hear the whole

thing to understand.

If you're not up to it...

Then I'll start

at the beginning,

as all stories must.

In kinder times,

there was an island

whose heart and

blood was fish,

more fish than

any place in the sea.

Oh, thank God.

- Rose?!

Hurry!

Come on, come on!

Up on the table!

It's okay, it's okay now.

On the table.

Yeah.

Just like I told you.

Breathe!

That's right.

Okay.. -

Now push!

That's right,

now push... Yeah!

Aahhh!

Yeah!

- Here she comes!

- Aaaahh!

Yeah!

Here she is!

Isn't she beautiful?

That's some pretty.

The first

child of the fishing season.

It was a birth

of great significance.

Perhaps this child

was the one...

Amen.

Amen!

You two,

stay away from her.

Stay away.

I've got a feeling

about it, Stone.

I know it's her.

If she is,

a sign will come.

She'll get

a sign soon enough.

...that offers

bounty and mercy,

Who will grant to this child that,

which by nature she cannot have,

she will be

baptized by water.

Man".

Ha, ha, ha, ha...

Yeah!

One day,

Porter decided it was time.

Though her mother

was from the mainland,

Silly was an islander

through and through.

She'll live by the sea,

she must learn to swim in it.

it was the sign

that Stone had spoken of.

Indeed,

Silly was the one.

They were brown, Doctor.

Her eyes were brown.

It's not uncommon,

babies' eyes changing color.

We've got to get her

to the mainland.

There was something

in that water...

She's not the same!

- Calm yourself, Rose...

- Tell him, Porter, tell him!

Listen to doctor

Stone, Rose.

She'll be fine

soon enough.

All will be well.

But all was not well.

Little Silly

refused to sleep.

Night after night,

she tossed and cried out

for something her parents

could not possibly understand.

Give it to me!

The sea was a powerful

and mysterious mistress,

and no one dared

question her secrets.

No one but Rose,

that is.

A schoolteacher

from the mainland,

she wasn't afraid

to challenge the island ways.

She was determined

to find out

what happened to Silly

in the water that day.

Doctor?

Please.

I feel it,

I know something's wrong.

As the head

of the island's founding family,

he was sworn to silence.

Your imagination is

something to behold, Rose.

You should be putting her

to better use than this.

If you care anything for her,

and anything for me at all...

if you still care at all,

you must promise...

Look out for her.

Please, John.

You have my word.

Yeah, I know...

Silly, come here.

The years

of worry had taken their toll.

Rose grew ill from a fever

that had swept the island.

No matter...

what happens to Momma...

promise me...

you'll stay out

of the water.

Promise me, Silly.

I promise.

Silly filled her sleepless

nights wandering the island shore,

an outsider with

no one to understand her.

No one but the sea.

Day after day,

year after year,

Silly immersed herself

in the ways of her island.

Soon she had

all but forgotten

the mysterious image

she had seen so long ago.

Silly had a way with

the sea like none other.

She was strong and salty

and smarter than any of them,

and a welcome

addition on the wharf

on account of

her agreeable disposition.

Oh Peat...

Put your eyes back in

your goddamn fat chowder head.

Then one day,

something happened

that even Silly

could not explain.

The fish simply...

disappeared.

Are the tides taking

them out to sea?

I would take a thousand tides,

a thousand years to...

- clear out that bay.

It's happening again.

The curse.

Ba... What curse?

Oh...

It's just old

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