Long, Hot Summer, The Page #5

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identical wages, the same benefits.

That don't seem to strike you|as quite so funny.

It don't.

What I mean to say is, Jody,|with Ben around...

you can sleep late mornings.

That is, as late as you figure|you can afford to.

Outside, everybody!

Take the evenin' air.

Alan, I apologize|for what we are.

Don't, Clara.|It isn't necessary.

I wouldn't blame you|if you left right now.

Other young men have|with much less cause than this.

My people have stood off Indians,|Yankees, carpetbaggers.

The least they could expect of me|is to stand up to a Varner.

All right then.|Let's go have some more.

"Eula.! Eu-ooh-la.!"

Oh, listen to that.

If those boys don't sound like|a bunch of tomcats yowling at the moon.

Eula.! Eula.!

Isn't it terrible the way they come|prowlin' around here every night?

It's like that in town too.|They follow me wherever I go.

- Don't go anywhere then. You stay put.|- Oh, now.

- You stay right close to home.|- Jody, they're harmless.

- They're only 16, 17 years old.|- You call that harmless?

- "Eula.!"|- "Hey, Eula.!"

You quit it out there,|or I'll pass among you with a shotgun!

- "Hey, Eula, come out.!"

- "Eula.! Come on out.!"|- "Come on out, Eula.!"

- Come on, Eula. Get out of the light!|- Oh!

They don't have to see her.|They can smell her.

- "Eula.!"|- "Eula.!"

Tom Shortly, V.K. Bookwright,|John Fischer!

Now, I know it's you out there!|Now, quit it!

- "Eula.!"|- Would somebody please make them stop?

- Just wait. I'll stop 'em.|- "Eula.! Eula.!"

It's a madhouse|around here.

They're just young boys.|Healthy, young animals.

How come they don't come|to anybody else's house,|hide in anybody else's garden?

- It's just us that gets singled out.|- We're the ones that got Eula.

It's not her fault.|It's yours.

They come here 'cause they know|you're gonna laugh,|you're gonna think it's funny...

no matter how crude|and how vulgar!

I was young myself once.

I used to hide in the greenery|and hoot and bellow.

I'll bet you did. I'll bet you|stayed longest and yelled loudest.

Your mama listened.

Blackjack!

All right.

Now let's deal 'em|off the top.

Huh.

Is that the way|you acquired your fortune?|The way you're acquiring mine?

Those boys sure do make|their desires plain, don't they?

Callin' and callin',|just like they thought Eula|was gonna get up and follow 'em.

Wonder what would happen|if she did.

I imagine there'd|be quite a romp.

Now, why did I make|such a fuss about it?

Because|it offended you?

No, it didn't.

Now that's the plain,|unvarnished truth at last.

No, Alan, there's no sense in pretendin'|that girls don't think about sex.

They do.

You oughta hear some of the|conversations between Agnes and me.

Uh, I'd like to.

Well, there's nothing wrong|with being anxious about your love life.

I am about mine.

This is certainly not the way I expected|this conversation to be going.

I thought we were gonna sit here|on the front porch|and let the moon shine down on us...

and, just like those boys in the bushes,|let nature take its course.

Why, Clara, nature|is taking its course.

You're not the kind of girl|to be howled at and dragged|off the porch into the bushes.

You're a nice, quiet,|self-contained girl.

You'll see. Everything you want's|gonna happen to you.

Oh, evening, Alice.

You want to see me?

Miss Minnie Littlejohn|say, "Where are you?"

Oh.

- Where I am, huh?|- Yes, sir.

She say if you're not there|in half an hour, the place'll|be triple locked against you.

Triple locked, huh?

You tell Miss Minnie Littlejohn|I'll be there...

when I'm there.

I'll tell her.

It appears|I have a late date.

Are you married?|You got a woman somewhere?

I live single.

Hmm.

You've known a few|though, huh?

Yeah. My fair share.

- |- Deal.

Well, your friend left early,|without even firing a shot.

I was kissed good night,|Mr. Quick.

Kissed and left. That'd been me,|I'd have stayed till sunup.

- Aren't you reckless.|- Aren't you?

No, I'm just skittish, Mr. Quick.|Just plain skittish.

I have an answer for that.

Let's go get in that old Lincoln car|of yours and go plow up the countryside.

Let's go holler off a bridge|good and loud.

- There's been enough commotion tonight.|- You want quiet?

Let's go find us|a needle in a haystack.

Mr. Quick, those are all|lovely, colorful suggestions...

but I'm afraid if I|started out to follow you...

I would hear the starch|in my petticoat begin to rustle...

and I'd know|I was out of character.

Get out of character, lady.|Come on. Get way out.

Sudden changes|are not in my line.

You'll never know|till you try.

There's a volume ofJane Austen|upstairs by my bed...

and a glass of hot milk|that's getting cold.

You mean your friend would not like it|if we went off together.

The idea of you and me|just wouldn't go down, would it?

- I don't wish to discuss him with you.|- Why not? I respect him.

I admire his manners|and I admire the speeches he makes.

And I admire|the big house he lives in.

But if you're savin' it|all for him, honey...

you've got your account|in the wrong bank.

You can leave|any time now!

Don't ask me twice.

Sister?

Oh, you are out here.|Alone, huh?

When did Alan leave?

- About 10:
00.|- Early.

Well, he's been ill.

Yeah? You look|a little pale yourself.

Well, it's hot.|I haven't been sleeping very well.

How old are you,|sister?

Don't you know?

I keep a lot of figures|in my head.

Well, add these.|I'm 23.

Huh.

Your mama was 18 when I married her.|Just turned.

- Papa, are we gonna talk|about that again?|- We are.

You know,|you never look at me.

My life comes and goes,|my birthdays come and go.

Do you know I'm really quite a lively,|intelligent girl?

Sometimes I even|make people laugh.

Yet you and I never seem to have|any other conversation but this one.

- You're unmarried.|- You have pointed that out before.

What do you do out here,|you and Alan, huh?

- We talk.|- What gets said? Anything important?

He thinks I'm a nice, quiet,|self-contained girl.

Well, that ain't|damn near enough!

Thousands of acres out there, millions|of seeds put down in the ground.

Every year|the seeds come up again.

Life goes on.

Where's "my" crop, huh?

What follows me?

when I'm dead?

You'll probably have the biggest funeral|in the state of Mississippi.

That don't scare me, so long as|there's plenty of Varners to mourn me.

Jody and I will be there.

and yours, and their kids.!

My descendants, sister.|A line.

A long line with my face stamped on 'em,|my blood flowing in their veins.

All of that|from the two of us?

You think I'm joking.

You listen here to me,|sister.

If your blood is so frail|and so delicate...

that it just calls out|for Alan Stewart...

amen, let it be him.

I'll give you a big weddin'.|I'll build a house for you.

I'll put money in Alan's account|atJefferson First Trust Bank.

But it's gonna be "now,"|missy!

No more pussyfootin',|no more holdin' hands...

and squeakin' that front porch swing|back and forth.

Six years that's all I've heard|is squeakin'.

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