Miracle in the Rain Page #5

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- No, he didn't.

- Moth-eaten turkey, I told him to telephone.

I couldn't leave my place in line.

For some dopey reason, they've

tightened up on passes. Sunday too.

- It's all right now.

- How are you doing, Mrs. Wood?

- Hello.

- Oh, this is Mrs. Hamer, Mr. Hugenon.

I know the name already,

heard it 50 times.

Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Hamer.

- How is your arthritis?

- Thanks.

Oh, these are for you, Mrs. Wood.

And one for you, Mrs. Hamer.

- For me? What for?

- Yes.

- Well...

- oh, give it to me.

Thank you.

I'll put them in the water.

- It was nice of them to give you the pass.

- I had to lie like a doormat thief.

Luckily, the colonel turned out

to be from Alabama.

"My old pappy," I said to him,

"has come up to see me, sir.

He's on his last legs, lying bedridden

in a lonely Yankee hotel."

I run a tear from a colonel

and a 10-hour pass.

- I'm glad.

- Well, I don't know where to begin.

- Have you been outside yet?

- No.

It is day made out of diamonds.

Everybody's walking three inches

above the sidewalk.

Let's get this over with first.

Oh, you've written words

to my father's music.

Dixie and I sat up for four hours.

I couldn't use any of his suggestions.

You know, he wrote a hit a few years ago

called "Let's Go Bongo in the Congo."

He wants to make this a sequel.

"Let's Take the Congo out of Bongo."

- It was like collaborating with an eager-azi.

- I couldn't find nothing else.

- Oh, Mrs. Hamer.

- Very original.

Oh, you're a nice-looking young fellow.

Why do you want to go

get killed in the war for?

Oh, that's no good.

Stay home. I'm telling you.

- I'll think it over.

- Mrs. Hamer, you mustn't talk like that.

Oh, I'm an old lady, I can talk how I like.

Well, here we go.

Music by Harry Wood.

Words by Art Hugenon.

A little number entitled

"I'll Always Believe in You."

Come on and sing.

Isn't it wonderful

the way the grass smells?

The music of the spheres.

Oh, I thought that was up there.

It's a traveling orchestra

who plays everywhere.

Art, look from here.

The people moving round and round

as if they heard the music too.

I've never known it like this before.

The park and everything.

It seems like some strange place

I've never been before.

I was worried this morning

that you wouldn't come.

- It was very upsetting.

- No faith in the fella, huh?

Well, I hardly know you, really.

That's when you gotta have faith,

when you hardly know something.

Take those people.

They're all full of faith.

You can tell by the mere fact

that they're walking in the park, smiling.

They have faith

that the forces of gravity won't change...

...and send the world tumbling on its ear

and that the sun won't stop warming them.

Okay, doll, give me your best look.

Just a little on this side.

Perfect, Arleen.

Now give me a little more smile.

Hold it. Got it.

Say, buddy, you mind doing me a favor?

- You know how these things work?

- Sure.

It's set for light and speed.

All you do is get the image.

- I've used one of those.

- Would you take one of us together?

Sure. Excuse me, Ruth.

Arleen and I are on a honeymoon.

We just had our wedding breakfast.

- Gilbert, please.

- What's wrong with being married?

It's the one thing

which has the full approval of society.

- Am I right, buddy?

- Yes, you're absolutely right.

Just get the image centered.

Now it won't look like you spent

your honeymoon alone in Central Park.

- I got some film left. Take a few more.

- Okay.

Don't look up in the tree, honey,

look at me.

Would you take a picture of her

sitting on my knee?

Sure.

Okay.

Thanks.

- Name's Gil Parker.

- Art Hugenon.

- Meet the bride, Arleen Witchy.

- How do you do?

You may have heard of her.

- The name sounds a little familiar.

- The Garden of Bali, 52nd Street.

- Oh, yes, of course.

- He knows you.

I bet you looked at her picture plenty.

The life-size one on the outside.

That's something, ain't it?

That's how we became acquainted.

I couldn't rest

till I met the original inside.

All I can say now,

is that that picture ain't nothing.

- Gilbert, please.

- You got nothing to be ashamed about.

You're married now. Keep that in mind.

In fact, I'm her second husband.

You might have read about her first trip

to the altar a year ago.

No, I'm afraid I missed it.

Yeah, William Rylander Borden,

the millionaire with the horses.

He married her after whirlwind courtship.

Took her out to the family estate

on Long Island, right?

- Port Tuckett.

- Port Tuckett.

Well, William's mother takes one look

at the bride and says, "Get out of here."

She recognized me from my photographs.

So Arleen beat it, sued for annulment,

"The Kissless Bride."

It was all over the papers.

Except she made one lousy mistake.

She forgot to ask for a settlement.

She could have shook him down

for a million.

I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Say, I got one film left.

How about a picture of you two

before I put a new roll in?

Sure.

- Oh, this is Ruth Wood.

- Hello.

- Pleased to meet you.

- Want your picture taken?

- You mean the both of us?

- Do you mind?

- No, not at all.

- Stand together right here.

Yeah, a little more smile from the lady.

What is it?

You two sore at each other?

Come on. A little action, folks.

Put your arm around her, buddy.

Get a little love into it.

Loosen up, Ruthie.

Make believe you're alone with him

in a parlor with the lights down.

Put a little love into it.

Lean your head on his shoulder.

Look up into his baby blue eyes.

That's it.

Hold it.

Got it.

Where can I send your print, buddy?

Camp Shanks, New York. Hugenon.

Embarkation point.

I better send it to your girl,

a more permanent address.

- Miss Ruth Wood, right?

- 430 West 74th Street.

New York City.

- Say, buddy, can I see you alone?

- Sure.

Entertain the lady

for a couple of minutes, will you, honey?

Of course, Gilbert.

May I ask what part of the country

you're from?

- New York.

- Oh, is that so?

Make out like

we're discussing the camera here.

What's up, colonel?

- You with the 153rd?

- That's right.

I'm Signal Corps, Astoria, Long Island.

We get the latest dope there.

Advance information

on all military maneuvers.

A spy can make a fortune

just sitting around.

But fortunately, we ain't got no spies,

so don't worry.

Here's the latest. Came through Friday.

Your outfit's pulling out

in a matter of days for overseas.

We've been hearing that rumor

for a month.

No kidding. This is it.

Right from the big brass feedbag.

I'm tipping you off in case

you wanna get married...

...you won't postpone it too long.

- Thanks.

- Don't mention it.

Yes, sir. This is one of the greatest

little gadgets on the market.

My advice to you, buddy, is to get one.

You'll never regret it.

Well, thanks for the cooperation, folks.

Come on, baby.

All aboard the Honeymoon Express.

- It's been nice meeting you.

- Likewise.

- So long, buddy.

- So long.

- What did the sergeant really have to say?

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