Long, Hot Summer, The Page #7

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- Well, I'll be damned.|- More than probable you will be...

but first you're goin' to church|and get married, ya hear?

To my daughter.

That's the one you|didn't figure, ain't it?

Yeah, that's the one.

Well?

What about it?

Well, I'd say it's|a mighty interestin' notion.

"Notion"? Notion?

I'm talkin' about the survival|of my family name.

I'm talkin' about the establishment|of my immortality.

You, you wanna|put down roots?

Move to my house. Live with us.|Sleep under clean sheets.

Study that skinny gal.

Well, now,|what's in it for me?

Well, there's lands|and moneys...

on the day|of the weddin'.

- More to come.|- What lands...

what moneys,|and how much more?

We'll have a meetin' with my banker|and my lawyer. You'll see for yourself.

I'll take that old Frenchman's ruin|for a starter.

- Well.|- Yeah. Right now. Tonight.

- I'll give it to you in writin'.|- Yeah, you do that.

Who says I picked the wrong man?

You and me|got a deal, Ben Quick.

And who says marriages|are made in heaven?

All of hell wouldn't|have this one!

Now, make no mistake|about that gal.

She's, uh, delicate, but in other ways|she's smart, like her mother before her.

She has quality. Quality.

It's as close as you and me|will ever get to it.

Move right in, boy. It's all yours.

I'm movin' up|in the world.

Miss Clara's room is in|the back of the house.

Mr. Jody|and Miss Eula.

- And here's your room.|- And the old man?

Never know where he is.|Don't sleep so good no more.

Just roves around from room to room,|sometimes three in a night.

I had five sisters|and a brother...

and a mother and a father|and an old maid aunt.

And all together,|we slept in a room about...

half this size.

Same as my family.

And look at us now,|Lucius.

Big rooms, small rooms...|all the same size to the Lord.

Bathroom's|end of the hall.

Well, just so we don't|crowd each other...

I shave nights|and shower mornings.

You bringin' him here?|Into the house?

Big house.|Room for one more.

But he don't belong here.|He's hired help.

- He's more than that.|- How much more than that?

Well, he's gonna be|kind of brotherly, Jody.

I brought you home a big brother.

So look out for him.|Boy's clever.

He'll be up when you're sleepin',|and he's gonna be where you ain't.

Look alive, Jody. You're a couple|of racehorses startin' out even.

Well, we'll see who is the fastest|and who is the smartest.

It's not exactly even,|considerin' I'm your blood son!

- Don't open that can of beans.|- Well, I am openin' it!

Well, then eat|what you got.

Exactly nothin'.

Am I your son...

or ain't I your son?

You was born to me.

Ain't you got any affection for me...|or regard for me?

- Just tell me that.|- You're just tryin' to|make yourself miserable.

"Miserable"? Seems like I walked|around in misery all my life.

You ain't never|been a papa.

No! 'Cept to tell me|to stand up straight.

You push, reach,|stretch yourself.

I put down|a big footprint.

I said, "Here.|Step in. Fill it."

- You never did.|- Well, I tried.

I tried to be what you wanted,|but I ain't got it in me.

Where do ya go lookin' for it|if you ain't got it in you?

You find a way,|or you don't.

Papa, please.

You have Lucius dig you up|some worms, Jody.

You go fishin', boy.

Jody?

Don't you lie there with your face|in the pillow, Jody Varner.

That's exactly what|he expects you to be doing.

Jody.|You had spunk once.

Remember, you used to throw|brown paper bags full of water...

on his head|from this very window.

Remember? I'd fill 'em up,|and you'd throw 'em?

You were only seven years old then,|and you were wonderful.

You weren't|afraid then.

Jody?

Jody, you remember|John Wesley Pritchard?

You remember how he stood out|in the school yard...

and said, "Clara Varner|has front teeth like a horse,"

and I cried and said, "I'm gonna get|my big brotherJody Varner...

and you did?

Jody?

I wouldn't have gotten|through my girlhood alive|if it hadn't been for you.

All of which makes you|very dear to me...

and I don't care what he did|or said to you downstairs.

You look mighty pretty|with them readin' glasses on.

You look pretty|with them off.

You look mighty young there,|Miss Clara...

all curled up|in your bed...

like you just washed your hands|and brushed your teeth...

and said your prayers|like a little girl.

a mighty appealin'little girl.

in a tangle down your back.

I'll bet you knew where to look|for robins' eggs and blackberries.

I'll bet you had|a doll with no head on it.

There's a church bazaar|comin' up next week.

Now, you wear a white dress|and a ribbon in your hair...

and I'll waltz you|around under the moon.

Clara?

Clara.

Clara

Beautiful dreamer

Wake unto me

are waiting for thee

Okay, folks,|"this is the old-fashioned"...

Sounds of the rude world

Heard in the day

Lulled by the moonlight

Have all passed away

Beautiful dreamer

Queen of my song

List while I woo thee"

- Hi, Will.|- Hi, Sam.

- |-

store for a dime over here.

That Ben Quick,|he sure is a comer.

Yep. Name suits him,|all right.

First into that farm,|then into the store...

now in the house.

And all he started with|was a book of matches.

I wish I was|Ben Quick.

He's got this here whole state|of Mississippi to graze on.

Yeah, but if you should happen to go out|to see him on business, go out naked.

That way you won't feel|the cold comin' back.

"It's ten cents"...

- Hi, Jody.|- Hi.

- Can I sell you somethin'?|- Uh, yeah. Wedge of pie.

- Apple pie?|- All right.

Fifteen cents.

- Thank you.|- Thank you.

Jody?

- You got a pencil, Will?|- What for?

- I want you to write somethin' down.|- What?

- September 30. That's the day.|- What day?

A six-layer vanilla cake|is comin' from Mayville...

suitably decorated|in boiled white frostin'.

A hundred and four handwritten|invitations have gone out.|No children under six years.

Women have got to take care|of themselves. That's what I done.

- What have you done, Minnie Littlejohn?|- It's all arranged.

All but the license and the blood|tests... and the weddin' rings.

Weddin'? Minnie.

You take that six-layer,|white boiled frostin' vanilla cake...

and you cut it up|in 104 pieces...

and you send it out|with your regrets.

All right, Will.

Well, now,|Minnie, honey...

how'd you like a...

yellow Thunderbird|automobile, huh?

No, thank you, Will.

Well, how'd you like|a brand-new super sewin' machine...

- with all them fancy attachments?|- No, thank you, Will.

Well...

how'd you like a...|plain gold ring?

have your attention?

Y'all come on|and gather round, ya hear?

'Cause this is the moment all you|young fellas have been waitin' for.

Each of these|young ladies here...

has packed|two boxed suppers...

and the high bidder wins|not only the delicious vittles...

but also the privilege|of eatin' 'em...

with the fair young maiden|who prepared 'em...

with her own|lily-white hands.

Now, I'm gonna start this off|with the daughter of one|of our first citizens...

Miss Clara Varner!

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