The Magic of Belle Isle Page #7

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I'm Luke Ford.

You certainly are.

I'm really pleased

to make your acquaintance.

Have a seat.

Luke is the reason

that I've been trying

to get a hold of you all summer.

I know you wanted your space,

but he's been rather insistent

on acquiring the rights

to Jubal McLaws.

- Is that right?

- How about that, huh?

Well, Jubal's not for sale.

Oh, come on now. Hear him out.

He is just trying to make you

a rich son of a b*tch.

I'm already a son of a b*tch.

And I don't care to be rich,

but thanks for thinking of me.

This could be

a real fresh start for you.

Granted, you'll have to take

a sabbatical from the dog-sitting.

I like dog-sitting.

Monte, I'm a huge fan

of the old Westerns,

and I'm convinced that

there's still some life left in the genre.

"The Saga of Jubal McLaws"

is the best Western novel I ever read.

If you allow me,

I'd be honored to be the one

to bring Jubal to life.

All due respect, Mr. Ford,

but my late wife has already

pulled off that miracle.

Then consider your readership--

this movie gets produced,

they'll increase a thousand fold.

Isn't that what you always wanted?

I thought it was.

Mr. Ford, I appreciate your taking

the time to come out here, I really do.

If ever there was a man

to play Jubal, you'd be him.

But right now,

I'm in a pretty good...

Most times, real life doesn't measure up

to what's in our heads,

but every now and then,

it comes pretty close.

You happened to catch me in one

of those rarefied moments.

So if it's all the same to you,

I'll stick with real life for a spell.

You're making a big mistake,

and I gotta tell you,

this could be your last chance.

I don't believe in last chances, Joe.

I've had too many of them.

- Monte!

- Joe...

meeting's over.

It's real nice meeting you.

That's pretty.

It's Mrs. O'Neil, next door.

Real fine lady.

Right now, she's talking to me.

And if you don't mind,

it's a personal conversation.

Mr. Wild horn,

it's a pleasure

not doing business with you.

How much longer are you here?

Couple of weeks.

Fixed all right for cash?

Same as always.

That's what I thought.

No, thanks, Joe.

You take care.

I believe you owe me

a toast, Mr. Wildhorn.

Here's to you,

Mrs. O'Neil, and a face

that gives the moonlight

something worth shining on.

What do you want

out of life, Mr. Wildhorn?

I'd settle for more nights like this.

I told my girls

that one of the great pleasures

life has to offer is

their own search after the heart.

Yes, ma'am.

What would the woman

who captures your heart be like?

She'd have your way

of walking into a room.

How do I do that?

It's sunny outside.

There's a light rainfall.

You know how it feels

when a warm breeze comes with the rain?

That's how you walk into a room.

That's some kind of walking

I'd have to do

to be worthy of such lovely words.

And I'd like her to have your ears.

My ears?

If you don't mind me

saying so, Mrs. O'Neil,

your ears look like

they can handle the soft whisper.

And if you don't mind my inquiring,

Mr. Wildhorn,

what would the whisper be?

Well, it would be different every night.

Maybe you could whisper

it in my ear while we dance.

I have it on good authority

that you love to waltz.

And so I do.

Mr. Wildhorn?

Uh, I'll be right there!

Just a minute. Just a minute.

I'll be right there.

If it's too early, I can come back.

Oh, no, no, no.

Not at all. Not at all.

Ah, Mrs. O'Neil.

What a pleasant surprise.

What can I do for you?

I have something

of a favor to ask you

if it wouldn't be too much

of an imposition.

After the way you played the piano

last night, no favor is too big.

Thank you.

It's just that I have to go into the city

for the day to meet with the lawyers.

Jack and I have a few final things

to work out.

I was wondering if you might

stay with the girls until I get back.

It shouldn't be too late.

You want me to baby-sit?

If you wouldn't mind.

No, no.

No, I accept the challenge.

Wonderful.

Thank you, Mr. Wildhorn.

There's a casserole

in the fridge for dinner.

And if you need to reach me,

the girls have my cell number.

Okay, now, I should be home

before you go to bed,

but Mr. Wildhorn

agreed to stay with you.

It's okay, Mom.

I can take care of everything.

Yeah, Mom.

We don't need any help.

Willow can watch us.

I know, this is just in case.

And I expect you to behave

like ladies while I'm gone.

Oh, good luck.

Oh, don't worry about us.

You go and fight your battles.

We'll protect the homestead.

Okay!

Who's up for some high-stakes poker?

Five-card draw.

Deuces and one-eyed jacks wild?

I'll play

How much you got?

Mom! Mom, wait!

Is Dad gonna be there?

Or is it just the lawyers?

Dad will be there.

Will you say hello for me?

Of course.

I love you, Mom.

I love you, too.

Come on, Flora! Jump.

Whoo!

That's quite an arm you got there.

You ever play any ball?

When I was 17 years old,

I could throw a baseball

90 miles an hour.

Had a real live arm.

Got me a minor league contract

for the St. Louis Cardinals.

I played eight years

with the Memphis Chickasaws

and the Portland Beavers.

Double A, Triple A.

Even worked my way up to the bigs

at the end of a couple of seasons.

One summer day,

we were playing a doubleheader.

I was pitching the opener.

First batter steps into the box.

I leaned in to get the sign,

and out of the corner of my eye,

I saw the most beautiful girl

I'd ever seen in my life.

She takes a seat right

behind the catcher,

and I can't take my eyes off her.

I was knocked out in the first inning.

But it was worth it.

Her name was Mary,

and we were married

eight months later.

She wanted to have a lot of kids.

I was all right with that.

Two days before my 25th birthday,

I got a call from the Cardinals.

They needed a new starter.

I was on my way home

from the ballpark

to tell Mary the good news...

when a drunk driver ran a red light...

I ended up in this chair.

I was sure Mary would leave me.

There were times

when I almost wished she would.

But she never gave up on me.

She used to tell me,

one door closes,

another one opens.

I didn't buy into it

until one day I looked up

and there was Jubal McLaws,

a half smile on his face,

staring right back at me.

Jubal and Mary

gave me my life back.

Six years ago, Mary died...

and Jubal went with her.

All doors closed,

bolted shut.

Until one day,

a nine year-old girl

named Finnegan O'Neil

showed up at my door

and gave me back my legs.

How did I do that?

By believing with me.

That's how I was able

to dance in the moonlight.

You danced?

In my mind, I sure did.

Can't they fix you?

No, Finn, they can't.

Maybe you'll get a miracle.

The way I see it,

I already got my miracle.

Okay, so first you go to "contacts."

What's "contacts"?

It's the thing that looks like a book.

I see a clock.

It's next to the clock, see?

All right. How do I get there?

- See the little ball in the middle?

- Yeah.

- Roll it.

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