From the Terrace

[Train Bell Ringing]

All right, Weinkoop,

where is she?

In this car, sir.

Has she recovered consciousness?

Not yet.

This is the company doctor.

Follow me.

Come on.

Five minutes

out of portJohnson...

she went into the ladies' room.

Must've finished off a pint.

The telegram said she fell.

Rolled off the seat

like a sack of flour.

Well?

She's dead drunk.

Oh...

My report can say

something else...

but that's what it is.

Belongs in a hospital.

Anything to get her

off company property.

Come on, Doc.

Have her taken

to theJefferson Hospital.

You go with her.

Be sure you make it straight...

we're not taking

any responsibility.

We're doing this only

as a courtesy to her husband.

Put her in a private room

under another name.

Keep her there until I get

Sam Eaton to come take her home.

Very well, Mr. Jones.

There's more

to running a railroad...

than just laying down

some tracks.

Looking for quail,

Frolick, as usual?

As usual, D.D.

You won't find

any around here.

They're all down

on Market Street by now.

Nobody left on that train?

No, just the crew.

I wonder if...

Oh, no. Not Martha Eaton.

See you later.

This is D.D. Jones.

I want you to put in a long-distance

call to portJohnson.

To Mr. Samuel Eaton.

That's right,

Eaton Iron and Steel.

Will you be home

for dinner, Mr. Eaton...

if anyone should ask?

If you mean by "anyone"

Mrs. Eaton, say so, Nellie...

or forever hold your peace.

Well, what with Mr. Alfred

coming home from the war today...

You're sure it's today, are you?

Maybe you even know

what time he's coming...

or how he's coming.

No reason a servant shouldn't know

more than his own family.

Those eggs were too hard

again today, Nellie.

When I say soft-boiled,

I mean soft-boiled.

Yes, Mr. Eaton.

I may be home.

Then again, I may not.

And now I'm off.

Goodbye, Nellie.

Goodbye, sir.

[Telephone Rings]

Hello. Eaton residence.

Oh, I'm sorry. He just left.

You should be able

to reach him at the mill...

in about 10 minutes.

You're welcome. Goodbye.

Mrs. Eaton

got out of the house...

mighty early

this morning, George.

Yes, sir.

Philadelphia again?

I didn't wait to see

which train she took, sir.

Didn't she say anything?

We were too busy

talking about your boy...

coming home safe from the navy

to talk about unimportant matters.

In other words, Mrs. Eaton's

whereabouts are too unimportant...

for me to have

any interest in them.

There's nothing about Mrs. Eaton

that's unimportant.

Not to me, sir.

Are you trying to say something

to me, George?

Well, sir,

I made me a promise...

the day your son went away.

"George Fry," I said...

"the day Alfred comes

home from this war...

you'll say some things that's

been wanting to be said."

Took a lot for granted, didn't you?

I knew he was coming back.

I prayed for him.

Prayed? You're no more

of a praying man than I am.

If it was Billy gone to war

instead of Alfred...

maybe you'd have learned

to pray, Mr. Eaton.

Is that what you promised

yourself to say?

A father can feel badly

over a son dead 13 years...

without ignoring the other one.

Don't preach to me, George.

No, sir.

Maybe you'd better

be taking the day off.

I'll accept the day's

holiday, sir...

but after that, I don't want

to work for you anymore.

No, I shouldn't think

you would.

I'll have your check ready

for you tomorrow morning.

Yes, sir.

You might as well stop

in front of the saloon...

when we get there

and get out.

That's where you'll be

going anyway, I'm sure.

Here's to Samuel Eaton...

president of

Eaton Iron and Steel...

who, after 20-some odd years...

of being dirty, rotten mean

to his boy Alfred...

has just been fired.

I said fired, Noony,

by his own chauffeur.

I'll drink to that.

And here's to Alfred Eaton...

who never did anything wrong

in his whole life...

except be the son who

didn't die of spinal meningitis...

when he was a kid.

And now... I

hope he'll be forgiven...

for living through the war.

[Train Bell Ringing]

You know where

North Hill Road is?

Uh-huh.

Hey, Jake.

Got a passenger

for out of town.

Good.

Don't you want to help me

with my bags?

Who says so?

How much do I owe you?

$3.00.

Oh, yeah? Who says so?

I said so. $3.00.

Wait here while I go in

and telephone.

Telephone who?

The taxi company... to find out

when they raised their prices.

$2.00.

Mm-hmm.

Here's $1.00.

Now, beat it before

I pull you out of that cab...

and bust your nose for you.

Well, big man.

Mr. Alfred.

Oh, Mr. Alfred!

Oh, Mr. Alfred!

Hello, Josephine.

Hello, Nellie.

[Sobs]

Stop, Nellie,

for the Lord's sake.

I can't help it.

Well, you all look fine.

Come on, now.

Turn around, Josephine.

I will not.

You don't have to.

I can see it's getting bigger.

Oh, it is not.

She don't have her corset on.

Shut your mouth,

for the Lord's sake.

I brought you two old crows

some presents from London.

You didn't have to spend

your money on us.

We're just thankful you're home.

I'll bet you are, too.

You didn't tell a soul

what time you were coming.

I didn't want to give anybody

a chance not to meet me.

We aren't really ready for you...

what with the mister

and missis away.

Away?

Tonight I have

only lamb chops...

but I did make apple pie.

Where did they go?

The missis went away

this morning.

I don't know where.

The mister called

this afternoon.

It sounded like

long distance.

He said, "Don't

wait with dinner."

We fixed for

Miss Trimingham early.

Miss Trimingham?

Yes. Come on, Josephine.

Help me with these bags.

You'll find your old room...

just exactly the way

you left it, Mr. Alfred.

Nellie, who's Miss Trimingham?

She's your mother's trained nurse.

Trained nurse?

For the drinking, Mr. Alfred.

Alfred.

Oh, my Alfred!

Oh.

Ohh...

Mother, you all right?

Ohh.

Oh, forgive me.

How horrible.

I'm so excited

and awkward.

Oh, but you're home.

Yes, Mother.

Oh, oh, darling, don't.

Don't look at me.

I didn't want you

to see me like this.

I'm so tired,

and I'm not feeling well.

Couldn't we save everything

for tomorrow...

when I'll be at my best?

We'll make believe

there was no tonight...

and that you

came home tomorrow...

and we'll say all our hellos

as they should be.

Sure, Mother.

Here comes your father.

Now make allowances.

He's not at his... best.

Here we are, Sam,

and look who's with me.

My boy. Home at last.

Hello, Father.

Hello, Father?

Is that all after all this time?

No. There's a lot more.

Yes, I should think

there would be.

Now what've you done

to yourself?

Oh, she just tripped and fell.

Doesn't he look wonderful?

Yes. Let's get in the house.

Now, Sam, what

we've decided is...

we're not going to say

our hellos tonight.

We're all much too tired...

and tomorrow we'll all

be fresh as a daisy.

How was the war?

O.K., I guess.

We won it.

Oh, have you met my son?

Alfred, this is Miss Trimingham.

How do you do?

Welcome home.

Up we go.

Oh... cool sheets

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes