The Gardener's Son(19)

SHERIFF (os) Thank you Mr Clements. Yes.

Sounds of feet on the wooden stairs. The old man looks up and carefully tucks the carving and the knife into the bib of his overalls. The deputy and another man come down the steps and come past the old man and enter the room. The door remains open. The old man stares straight ahead. After a moment he turns and looks into the room, then carefully takes out his earthing and his knife again. Sounds of hammering the coffinlid nails.

Interior. Narrow hallway. Six men struggling along the passage with the coffin.

Exterior. Long shot of jail and an empty wagon standing in the front with Patrick McEvoy waiting. The doors open and the men come out with the coffin and load it into the back of the wagon. The sheriff approaches McEvoy with a paper and gets him to sign it. The other men stand around somewhat uneasily. McEvoy looks at them and then turns and takes up the reins and chucks up the mule and they start off.

Exterior. Day. The Graniteville cemetery. A scaffolding of poles is erected over the monument of William Gregg and the monument is being hoisted with a block and tackle. A heavy freight wagon with an eight-mule team is waiting to be backed under and receive the monument. A crew of gravediggers wait on with shovels. Teamsters back the mules and the stone is lowered into the bed of the wagon and the diggers come forth with their picks and shovels and proceed to exhume the bodies of the Gregg family. Mrs Gregg in her carriage waits on in the distance. It is a quiet and sunny scene. She gives the word to her man and he chucks up the team and they go on out the road among the stones.

Interior. Late afternoon. The state hospital at Columbia. The young man from the opening of the film approaches the desk. He and the young woman at the desk converse briefly and he signs his name on the visitors roster and she motions to an orderly who comes over. They converse and the orderly beckons the young man to follow him. The young man is carrying a bouquet of flowers. There is a muted sound of voices beyond the walls. A hall in the hospital. The orderly coming along. The young man following behind. An old man is mopping the floor and he stands at a sort of attention with his mop while they pass and then turns and makes a strange mudra after them with his hands before taking up his mop again.

The orderly and the young man pause in front of a small cubicle and the orderly nods to the young man and he enters. A white light comes in at the window. Old sheets for curtains. An old woman in an institutional robe is sleeping in a chair by the window. The young man comes in and takes a seat carefully on the bed. He puts his hat down and looks at the old woman. He folds his hands together, holding the flowers, and sits looking down at his feet like one holding a vigil. Shot reminiscent of Bobby in his cell before execution. After a while he looks up. He might almost have been praying at a wake. When he looks up he sees with a start that her eyes are on him, awake and intense.

MARTHA Do I know you?

YOUNG MAN No Mam.

MARTHA Are you a doctor?

YOUNG MAN No Mam. My name is William Chaffee. I’m from Charleston.

MARTHA Well you look like you’re somebody.

He realizes that he is holding the flowers and he extends them toward her. She looks at them for a moment and then she reaches out and takes them.

YOUNG MAN I Was At Graniteville This Morning. Miss McEvoy. I came up on the train.

MARTHA I lived there as a young girl.

YOUNG MAN Yes Mam.

MARTHA These are just the prettiest flowers. Are these for me?

YOUNG MAN Yes.

MARTHA Well I declare.

YOUNG MAN I guess most ladies like flowers.

MARTHA I was always a fool about flowers. I guess I take after my daddy thataway. He was a nurseryman. He had peach orchards . . . You never seen the like of peaches. They used to ship em out by train. Just carloads of em. He had a touch with anything growin. Just had a sleight for it. He never did have no luck about people.

YOUNG MAN I talked to a Mr Bolinger down at Graniteville. He asked to be remembered to you.

MARTHA Well I dont know. They was several of them. They was some of em got high up in the mill.

YOUNG MAN I believe he’s about your age. I cant remember . . .

MARTHA Harvey.

YOUNG MAN Yes. That was it.

MARTHA He has a son that’s a district court judge. He had five children and they wasnt a one of em ever worked the first day in that mill. He’s got a slew of grandchildren. I dont have no kin. I had a nephew . . . My sister had a boy but he got gone from here years ago I couldnt tell ye where to. She and her husband is both dead.

YOUNG MAN I see.

MARTHA She was lots different from me. She didnt hardly remember Mama at all and she was ... I dont know. She must of been ten or eleven when Mama died. She died in the dead of winter and I remember they had her laid out—back then ye had your services at the house, they wasnt no funeral homes—had her laid out and they brought Maryellen in there and she looked at Mama and she said: What’s Mama doin in bed with her clothes on? I mean she was big enough to understand . . . Years later she told me, said she didnt hardly even remember Mama. I was five year older. I know. But I remember her from when I was just teenineey.