Sergeant York Page #2

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Marter, you are the legalest fellow in

these here parts, if you ain't nothing else.

You gotta be, in this business.

Maybe our credit ain't no good

in Tennessee.

Bet it ain't no better in Kentuck.

What you be having, Alvin?

You got any corn without no lye in it?

No poison oak leaves in it, either.

Ain't no lye in this liquor.

Plumb hollow I am,

like an old, burnt-out stump.

Me, too.

What are we drinking to, Alvin?

What'll we drink to, lke?

Why, I reckon we drunk

to pretty near everything there is.

- I can't think of nothing new.

- Me neither.

Reckon we better begin all over?

If we can't drink to something,

why don't we drink against something?

Against something? Against what?

Oh, against something

or somebody we're against.

I ain't against nobody or nothing.

Except getting sober.

We'll drink against that.

You... You'll be a-killing

two birds with one stone.

- Come on. Sure.

- Ain't never gonna get sober.

Never gonna get...

Well, I'll be blowed.

What are you doing here, George?

Young'uns like you ain't got no business

in a place like this here, nohow.

- Now just you skedaddle.

- Ma wants you home.

- Now look here, George...

- Ma wants you.

- Shucks, son of a gun...

- Well,

reckon I better go. I'll be seeing you.

His ma wants him.

Get up.

Here, here. Quit that.

Hold your horses, Marter.

Here we go.

Here we go again.

I'm still a-coming.

Say when you got enough.

Say it.

Enough, enough.

Ma wants you, Alvin.

Ma wants you.

Coming, George.

- I'll be seeing you.

- So long, Al.

Here he is, Ma.

It took a heap of looking,

but he come easy.

- Fetch me a pail of water, George.

- Yessum.

Breakfast's ready, now it is.

Better be getting at it.

South field needs a-plowing.

The Lord bless these victuals we done got

and help us to be

beholding to nobody. Amen.

I reckon you'll want some salt

on your pone.

Whoa, Fred.

Giddap, Noah.

Whoa.

- Howdy, Pastor.

- Howdy, Alvin.

I've been kind of expecting you.

I'm right sorry about the other night, I...

I reckon I done the wrong thing.

See that rock, Alvin?

You've been plowing around that rock

a heap of years.

Sure have.

Did you ever think when you start plowing

your furrows crooked,

it's mighty hard to get 'em straight again.

- I never thought on it much.

- It's that a-way, I reckon,

with other things besides plowing.

Satan's got you by the shirttail, Alvin.

Sure has. Giddap, Noah.

He's gonna yank you straight down to hell.

You are plum right, Pastor.

You gotta make him let loose of you

before it's too late.

I sure wish I know'd how.

Wrestle him, Alvin,

wrestle him like you would a bear.

I done wrestled him, Pastor, but...

Whoa, whoa there, Noah.

Whoa, whoa. Whoa, Noah.

But old Satan, he hangs on tight.

You and the Lord could throw him, Alvin.

Why, twixt the two of you,

you'd have old Satan down in a jiffy.

Why, I sure wish the Lord would throw in.

He will, if you ask him.

Oh, I done prayed, Pastor,

till I was black in the face.

- But it wasn't no use.

- It ain't only praying, Alvin, it's believing.

Now, you see here.

Take a look at the old oak yonder.

Looks mighty strong.

Been standing there since your pa

was a boy a-plowing in the same field.

Looks like it could go right on standing

all by itself, don't it?

Yep.

Just a-resting itself

and feeding on the earth.

Well, it can't. It can't stand there

without there's a lot of deep roots

a-holding it up.

Can't see the roots,

but they're there just the same.

It appears to me it's been planned

a fellow's got to have his roots

in something outside his own self.

I reckon I ain't found no roots

what'll hold me up, when...

When I'm hell-bent to fall.

And then take the animals in the woods.

Squirrels'd go mighty hungry

if nothing made 'em store up nuts

for the wintertime.

- Sure would.

- How do you reckon

birds get to fly north in the summer

if there ain't something a-guiding 'em?

A bird ain't got no way of telling

north from south.

And then there's the bees.

Bees'd sure be in a fix

if they wasn't beholding to something

to show 'em how to get back to the hives.

Well, I ain't no bird and I ain't no squirrel.

- And I sure ain't no bee.

- Well, that's right, Alvin.

The way I figure, there ain't no use for a

fellow going out looking for religion. It's...

Well, it's just gotta come to a fellow.

It'll come, my boy. You'll see.

Maybe slow, like the way daylight comes.

And maybe in a flash,

like a bolt of lightning.

- When?

- When you ain't even expecting it.

Well, I hope so.

Giddap, Noah. I'll be seeing you.

Get after him, now.

Tracks are mighty fresh.

Less than an hour old.

- Reckon it's a red fox?

- Might be red and might be gray.

It's making a big circle.

Can't tell about his course

till he gets out on the flat.

They took to the hill there.

Yeah, that-a-way.

What's the matter, Alvin?

Howdy.

- You're Alvin York, ain't you?

- Yes.

Let's get going, Alvin.

I ain't seen you in a coon's age.

Where you been keeping yourself?

- Hereabouts.

- What's ailing you?

Are you coming or ain't you?

You better go get that fox, George.

You're just tetched.

How's your ma?

I asked you how your ma was.

Tolerable.

I figured it was you out a-hunting.

No mistaking the voices

of 'em hound dogs.

One's a-having a hook to the end of its bay

you could be hanging a bucket on.

The other's a croak, just like a frog,

about moonrise.

- What...

- You ain't Gracie Williams, are you?

Well, I ain't nobody but.

Why, you was only just...

You sure growed up all of a sudden like...

Reckon I have.

Sounds as if they've run that fox

to ground.

I said 'em hound dogs

run the fox to ground.

You better be getting along.

Reckon I had.

- I'll be seeing you.

- Hoping.

Ma.

Yeah?

When you and Pa got hitched,

what did Pa have to set up with?

Well, your pa had this here farm

and a mule and $5, no $6.

What did Grandpa have?

Your grandpa had this here farm,

a pair of horses.

The mare was in foal.

I reckon I wouldn't, George.

Ma.

It's sure ripped down here.

You reckon you can fix it?

I reckon. Come over here, Alvin.

Bend over.

You're a-figuring on setting up,

ain't you, Son?

- Yessum.

- Getting married?

- Who's it gonna be?

- Gracie Williams.

Gracie Williams?

Asked her yet?

No, I ain't.

What's the matter?

I ain't said nothing.

Reckon that'll hold.

Reckon it better.

Hold it thataway, Zeb.

Thinking on going to that there shindig

next Saturday night, Miss Gracie?

- I ain't been asked.

- Well...

You've been asked now.

- I can't say, Zeb. I have to think it over.

- Well, I don't...

Joshua, 14, verse 9...

You'd be a-coming if you wanted to,

Miss Gracie.

Maybe I could and maybe I couldn't.

Why, it's Alvin York.

- Howdy, Miss Gracie.

- Howdy, Alvin.

- You know Zeb Andrews, ain't you?

- Howdy.

Knitting, Zeb?

He was just a-helping me.

I wasn't expecting you

to be a-calling so soon.

Well, I said I'd be seeing you.

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