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Weight of Water The

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I didn't do it!
I swear to God,|I didn't do it!
Those women were|always good to me.
I'm innocent!
I'm innocent!|I'm innocent!
John, you know me.
I have nothing to do|with any murder.
I'll kill you!
Please.|You must believe me.
Is this the man you saw commit|these terrible murders?
It's all right.|You're safe here.
- Jesus loves me.|- The devil loves you.
Jesus loves me...
Jesus loves me.|Jesus loves me...
The State of New Hampshire
versus Louis Wagner.
Call your first witness.
The people call|Evan Christenson.
And what did you do|when you got to Smuttynose?
When I got to Smuttynose,|I went up to the house
- And went right in.|- And what did you see?
I saw my wife|lying on the floor.
Dead or alive?
Evan! Evan!
Evan.
Your mother looked|a little tired.
She can handle it.
If you're not used to having|a five-year-old around...
I thought the whole point|was to get away.
If you're gonna worry|about Billie all weekend...
All right, Thomas.
What?
Nothing.
I'm looking forward|to seeing Rich.
It's been quite a while.
A weekend with my brother...|that's a rare treat.
I'm a photographer|for a magazine.
They're doing an article|about the murders.
My brother-in-law|has a boat,
and I thought he could|take us to Smuttynose Island,
- Where the murders happened.|- Hey, there...
We left our daughter|with her grandmother.
I thought it would be|sort of a vacation.
Jean, this is Adaline.
Adaline, this is my favorite|sister-in- law.
- Favorite and only.|- Caught on a technicality.
Rich introduced us|to his new girlfriend.
- Hi.|- Hi.
I didn't know|he was bringing anyone.
This is my husband, Thomas.|Adaline, wasn't it?
We've met, actually.
Hi. At the writers'|dinner, right?
- Yeah.|- Oh yeah.
- Hey.|- Hey. It's been too long.
Where's all this go?
Old man lays down.
Come on,|I'll teach you how to dive.
It was impossible to know|that we had 17 hours left.
Or 12... or three.
This is it?
"...the two women|were discovered in the kitchen,
strangled and bludgeoned|with an axe."
Isn't "bludgeon"|a wonderful word?
One of the best.
Oh, this one's good.|"The nude body of Anethe..."
"An-nette."
"The nude body|of Anethe Christenson
was draped with a cloth|as if the killer could not bear
to look at his handiwork|while he sipped his tea."
Imagine the psychology|of a guy who could sit
and drink tea with two women|he's just bludgeoned.
This must be|the kitchen, right?
Where they found|the bodies.
Yeah, about...
over there and...
here.
Help!
Hello!
Help!
"Although Louis Wagner|was convicted of the murders,
the matter has been debated|for over a century."
I'm working on the "Oswald|'single axe' theory" myself.
Adaline is hoping you might|read something
for us later tonight,|Thomas.
Whatever you're working on,|you know...
we're not critics.
Many poets can turn a phrase,
but most of them|don't have the balls
to tackle|the really great themes.
I'm not sure I even know what|the "really great themes" are.
Abandonment...
Ioss, castration...
That's never gonna be|one of my problems, thankfully.
Chauvinism?
That's tired,|don't you think?
What about Yeats?
The celebration|of the human imagination.
- The magician.|- Melancholy.
It's all melancholy.
"The room swinging|with emptiness
like an unswung bell."|Valentin Iremonger.
I think|the really great ones
use words in such a way|you can never take them back.
Yeah, they do.
"To separate from life...
from tantalizing mysteries|and salt spray...
from the grave|gypsy eyes...
and the sacred, poignant flesh|of long-limbed dancers,
unsullied,|but not for long."
She's memorized you,|Thomas.
I stole "poignant flesh"
from Rich.
- I don't remember saying that.|- You were drunk.
I don't think I'd ever|use that word.
That's so like you.
You probably read more|than anybody I've ever met.
But you always pretend|you'd rather be drinking beer
- At a Red Sox game.|- Depends on who's pitching.
How did Wagner know|the men would be gone?
Sorry. Still thinking|about the murders.
But Louis Wagner...|the man they hanged...
how did he know|the women would be alone?
He's got a 12-mile row|back to shore,
why take time|to drink tea?
And why cover one woman's face|and not the other's?
Axe murderers don't tend to have|the most razor- sharp intellects.
Maybe her eyes were open.|It was the sight of them,
the accusation.
He couldn't stand to have her|looking at him.
So it was an act|of passion.
But using an axe|requires intimacy.
Think about...
how close you have to be|to your victim...
the vibration in your hand,
and the handle as the blade|strikes bone.
The spray of blood|warm on your face,
and standing over her,|her last choking gasps.
If he had gone there|with the intent to murder,
he would've taken a gun.
I think the killer was in love|with one of the women.
And murder was the only way|he could possess her.
I like that.
Wagner... Wagner.
He came into the house.
Wagner?
He took an axe
- And he swung it.|- Oh God.
God help us.
Anethe...
Is she hurt?
Evan. Evan.
Is she all right?
- Maren... Maren?|- Evan...!
Is she all right?
Evan! Evan!
It was funny|the way I found out.
Our daughter|was in the hospital.
Jean had...
I guess neither of us|had paid enough attention
to an infection|that she had.
Next thing we knew,|she was barely breathing.
We rushed her|to the hospital.
It was pneumonia.
She was tiny...|she was six weeks old...
and had tubes going in|one end and out the other.
And she was fighting|for every breath.
And I think|in a moment like that,
you feel hope|crossing over into grief.
Nicely put, Thomas.
And they had her in this|fucking box...
an incubator...|and it looked like a coffin.
What's wrong?
Nothing.
Then someone from the committee|found me in the hospital.
I got on the phone,|they told me I'd won.
Oh, I didn't have any idea.|I'm sorry.
Of course, Billie's fine now...|tons of trouble.
But it was just so unimportant|to me at the time.
I don't think I know what|it's like to win a Pulitzer.
Love is never as ferocious
as when you think|it's gonna leave you.
Thomas!
What?
Have you done something|with the wine
- We're having for dinner?|- The wine?
- It's almost time to eat.|- I've got it right here.
Open it for me, Thomas.|You're the expert.
There was a flesh wound|upon the right forehead,
separating the upper part.
The left ear|was nearly cut through,
separating it|from the head.
In my opinion,|a very heavy instrument
had to make those blows.
An axe,|in all probability.
The only people who knew
the women would be alone|that night
were Emil Ingerbretson...|'cause I asked him
to tell Maren we couldn't|make it back...
and Louis Wagner.
When did you arrive|in America, Mrs. Hontvedt?
I arrived five years ago|with my husband John.
He is a fisherman.
We left our home|because we were told
this is a land|of opportunity.
This is not it, John.
Surely this is not it?
Hello!
Sit...
and have a rest.
We don't have|any money to go back.
We'll make it.
The best cure|for melancholy is industry.
And though the winds|blew for days, neverending,
and the gulls|never ceased their cries,
we drew strength|from the rhythm of our labors.
And from God.
My husband and I grew|accustomed to the solitude.
I didn't mind the work.
I never complained.
I was brought up for this.
The wind carried off|our speech
so we spoke less.
And with work, I suppose,|we had less to say.
It is better|not to take the chance
of asking|an uncomfortable question,
or revealing an affection|for another person
that may bring|unintentioned pain.
It is wiser,|I think,
to keep silent|and preserve the bond.
I knew that I would not|be able to leave the island.
I had to bite my cheek to keep|from breaking into tears,
that once started,|might continue forever.
Can you get me|a drink, please?
Sure.
Adaline...|- Shit! Quick.
Shit!
Jesus Christ.|Help!
Can you help?!
Jesus.
- Something blew this way.|- Here.
- Thanks.|- And here.
Thanks.
Jesus.
Thanks.
What's all the excitement?
Nothing.
Nicely done.
Hah!
Never get it.
There's a certain poetry|in photography, don't you think?
You know, putting a frame|around the world?
I imagine that's maybe|part of the attraction
between the two of you.
You think so, Thomas?
Makes sense.
I always felt it was more|of an animal attraction myself.
Two strays sniffing|each other in an alley.
You overreached.
I was thinking about|what keeps people together
over the long term.
So how did you two meet?
Thomas introduced us|at the dinner.
I think actually he was|trying to get rid of me,
because I was acting|like a groupie
and asking|too many questions.
Two seconds after I met him,|I was asking him
how he got his scar.
I couldn't help noticing it|in his photograph...
you know, the one in the back|of "The Magdalene Poems"?
Seemed like it would've been|so easy for him to just...
turn away a little|so it didn't show.
But he didn't.
What did he say?
I said...
that I had a car accident|when I was a kid.
The driver was drunk.
I probably read|too much into things,
but I thought it was maybe|something we had in common.
'Cause I put my arm|through a window once.
- We need more wine.|Sure.
I'll be right back.
I'll get a towel.
Oh, help!
Anethe!
Anethe!
Please...
Thomas?
- Thomas?|- Hm-mm?
I don't think he did it.
What?
The murders.|I don't think Wagner did it.
It was the woman,|the survivor... she killed them.
Jean, I just need|a few minutes' sleep.
I can't sleep at all|on this fucking thing.
Maren.
Yes?
John?|What's this?
It's for you.|A little company, I thought.
- Do you like him?|- Yes.
- I like him very much.|- Good.
Thank you.
I'm going|to call him "Ringe."
Oh... you have a letter|from home.
- Do I?|- Yeah.
I thought Evan|would never write.
It's from my sister,|Karen.
Our father has died.
She's coming to America.
She can't.
We have no other bed|and no money for it.
That's all right.
I've been saving some money|for the new schooner.
It's fine.
You're seasick.|Yes, I am a little.
Welcome.
Be careful|with that trunk.
I'm sick from the boat.
I need tea and bread.
Karen...|how is our brother?
He's well.
Is that all?
Hasn't he written you?
We had one letter.
One letter|in all this time?
I'm surprised.
I thought our brother|bore you a special affection.
He's probably busy.
He was not too busy|to be a comfort to me.
He took me on a holiday|over Easter.
And to the theater.|And to supper.
And we stayed in a hotel.
He's prospered|wonderfully.
And put money by.
No doubt he will soon|meet a young woman
to turn his head.
Perhaps he'll come|to America.
Don't be absurd.
A man who prospers|in his own country
has no need to flee.
He's well, though?
And happy?
Oh yes, Maren.
Never better.
We found Karen|a domestic position
early that spring|at the Appledore Island Hotel.
I hoped the work|might occupy her.
- Hi.|- Hi.
- You sleep well?|- Yeah.
Guess I'm the last one up.
- Hi.|- Hi.
I thought we could|call Billie later.
I just did.
Oh.
Oh, you could have|told me.
They were going to the park.|I said you'd call later.
- Is she all right?|- She misses us.
She said that?
I could tell.
But it doesn't matter.|We're gonna be back tomorrow.
"Hi. We're unable|to take your call right now,
so please leave a message,|and we'll call you back."
Hello, John.
I brought a mate|from Portsmouth
to board with us.
He has some rheumatism,|and it needs nursing sometimes,
- But he's a good hand.|- It's so cramped as it is.
Come in, Louis.
Louis Wagner, madam.
From Germany?
I hope I won't be|a burden to you.
It's no burden.|What's one more?
Louis, let me show you|your room.
Come.
Sorry to be so stiff.
I'm afraid you will soon|be looking after me
and my rheumatism.
Do you mind|the extra work?
I never mind work.
May I see your hands?
They're strong.|That's good.
Sometimes it helps|to have my joints massaged.
Would you do that|for me?
If my husband|has no objection.
If he doesn't know,|he can have no objection.
They're waiting for you|on the boat.
It's coming on again.|I can feel it.
Would you help me|to the bed?
Please?
Thank you.
All right.|Ease me down, Thomas.
"Dear Mr. Plaisted,
I will be in Portsmouth|on April 15th,
and would very much|appreciate it
if I could meet in your|chambers that afternoon.
Please respond|by return post.
Sincerely,|Mrs. John Hontvedt."
Aren't you hot?
Do you want to swim|or something?
Take a look at this.|Tell me what you think.
What is it?
A letter Maren Hontvedt|wrote to the prosecutor.
- What do you think?|- Not much to it, is there?
- Look at the date.|- April 7th, 1875."
That's two years|after the trial.
What reason could Maren have|for meeting the prosecutor then?
Okay, I give.
Louis Wagner|was hanged three weeks
after she wrote|this letter.
Maybe Maren couldn't live|with the guilt
and she wanted to confess|before an innocent man died.
Confess?
I thought you were|snapping a few photographs,
- Not re-opening the case.|- Aren't you curious?
Yeah.
I want to go back|to the mainland for a few hours,
Iook around|the courthouse in Portsmouth.
Maybe there's a record|of this meeting.
We are running|a little low on wine.
Thomas|is outdoing himself, hmm?
Hey...
you all right?
So I thought...
Never better.
"And in that day they shall|roar against them
like the roaring|of the sea,
and if one look|unto the land,
behold darkness|and sorrow,
and the light is darkened|in the heavens thereof."
You're a good cook.
I'm not.
You're right.|It's dreadful.
I must be a fool|to keep eating it.
I think you are|feeling better.
A miraculous recovery,|I think.
You are|a "sister of mercy."
Are you lonely here?
No.|Of course not.
I have my dog Ringe.
Yes, your dog.
Is he enough?
I have my husband too.
Dog first, husband second...
that is the usual|order of things.
Should keep such observations|to yourself, Mr. Wagner.
I'm lonely too, Mrs. Hontvedt.|That's why I asked.
You're too young to be|a married woman.
John doesn't deserve|such a beautiful wife.
I have made|some konfetkake.
- Would you like some?|- Konfetkake? I don't think so.
You are the only confection|that interests me.
Perhaps I could have|just a little "taste"?
Mrs. Hontvedt,|don't be offended.
I only tease you.|You've not been teased much.
Am I correct?
You should go.
As you wish.
I would do anything|to have you.
And did the defendant cease|his unwelcome overtures?
He did not.
Women's motives are always|more concealed than men's.
So you think Jean's right|about it being the woman?
It's always the woman.
I can't see a woman|using an axe.
- Lizzie Borden?|- She was acquitted.
Because 12 men on the jury|couldn't see a woman
using an axe.
Maren must have used an axe|every day chopping wood.
But why would she|kill them?
When a woman kills,|it's generally a spouse.
For obvious reasons.
But her sister|and sister-in-law?
It doesn't make|much sense.
It is remotely possible|they hanged the right guy.
Come on, Rich.|What's the fun in that?
Excuse me,|but aren't you that writer?
Yeah... William S. Burroughs.|A pleasure.
I read "The Magdalene Poems"|for my class.
What'd you make of them?
Good. Really good.|Thomas Janes, right?
What are you|working on now?
An infomercial,|but don't tell anybody.
That's my brother, Rich,|the handsome one.
Can I go to the courthouse|with you?
It's not necessary.
I want to go.
All right.
That Mr. Wagner|is quite handsome.
He seems to like me|very much.
- Is that why you're smiling?|- Heavens, no.
I was thinking how much|I enjoy my work at the hotel.
Making beds|and washing chamberpots?
Don't be crude.
Perhaps I am smiling because|I have a wonderful secret.
- Secret?|- Be patient, Maren.
You will find out|in good time.
Karen? Please...
tell me what your secret is|or I shall die of curiosity.
Oh, it's nothing.
Only that I had a letter|from our brother.
Evan?
Did you bring|his letter with you?
I'm so sorry, I left it|in my room in Appledore.
What has he written you?
Only that he's coming|to America
in October.
Really?
Evan's coming?
He says he wishes to stay|with you and John.
Hello!
Evan.
Evan!
Evan!
Evan!
Hello!
- Evan!|- Maren!
Is that woman with you?
Evan! Evan!
Evan!
Hello to America!
Such a happy day.
We have to have|a little celebration.
Maren,|this is Anethe.
This is my beautiful wife|Anethe.
A toast|to the new arrivals.
My beautiful sister|Maren.
This is Louis.|Louis Wagner.
Anethe,|will you dance with me?
Okay, you're gonna dance.
Play it.
Come and dance with me.
Bravo, John.
Please continue when|you're able, Mrs. Hontvedt.
When I could open the door,
I looked out and saw the man|grab a chair with both hands.
So I shut the door again|and hurried back to my sister.
I told Karen to hang on|and we would escape
through my bedroom window.
But she said|she was too tired...
just laid there|on the floor.
And the man|kept pounding on the door.
I told Anethe to hide,|so she jumped out the window.
When I told her to go|and to look for help,
she said she could not.
The fear had taken|her voice.
- I was standing at the door...
keeping out the man.
And then suddenly|the pounding stopped.
I heard Anethe|"Hello, Louis"
several times.
And I went to the window
and looked out,|and saw that man.
Louis! Louis, no!
With a big axe he struck her|once and she fell.
Please...!
He struck her again, and back|he came toward the house.
Again I told my sister|Karen to run,
but she said|she was too tired.
So I jumped out|the window...
ran down|to the henhouse...
saw the little dog...
and I thought to row away,|but could not find a boat.
So I ran to find|some rocks,
to hide myself away|from that man.
And is that man|among us today?
If it so please the law,
I shall with my heart|and soul and sound mind,
speak of the true|and actual tale
of that incident|which continues to haunt me.
I make this statement|not in defense of myself,
for what defense have those|who still live, breathe and eat
and partake of the Lord's|blessings,
against those who have been|so cruelly struck down,
in such a way as I can hardly|bear to recall?
I can't do this.
What is it?
I don't know.|I can't do this here.
It's not you, Thomas.|It's me.
Hold me, please.
Something's gonna happen.
I believe it was|God's hands that caused me
to realize that I must|somehow survive my ordeal
so that I would one day|be reunited with my brother.
I vowed to keep as still|and as silent as possible
so that the stormy motions|that threatened to consume me
might come|under my control.
If you hurry,|you can catch John
before they sail off|for Portsmouth.
This island|has everything I need.
My wife is here.
That is all I ever need|or want.
And my sister|is here, too.
I don't need the distraction|of the city.
I am content to stay here|and bait the trawls
and think about|my good fortune.
You and Anethe|are settling in well?
Isn't it obvious|how happy she is?
She's... very agreeable.
And also pleasant|to look upon.
But Anethe has a lot to learn|about keeping a house.
But I've brought her|to a good teacher.
You've turned yourself|into a first-rate cook.
I'll go fat from it.
And with any luck,|you'll soon be fat yourself.
Is that so?
I only mean that one day|you may give us all good news.
What is it?
I cannot have a child.
Are you sure of this,|Maren?
Have you been|to a doctor?
I have no need|of doctors.
Three years have been|proof enough.
To tell the truth,|I'm not so surprised.
I have suspected|all my life.
Or at least since...
You remember?
You remember,|don't you?
Yes... yes, of course|I remember.
I have thought the simultaneous|onset of my womanhood...
These are not matters|of which
a brother and sister|should speak.
These are private matters.
I would never do anything|to upset you.
Is your marriage|a happy one?
We have managed.
No... I mean in the matter|of a child.
You mean, does my husband put|his seed in me with regularity?
For God's sake,|have some dignity.
Evan, I'm so sorry.|Please forgive me.
Please forgive me.
Sometimes I think|I'll go mad.
Good morning, Maren.
So, I must go bait|the trawls.
Forgive me|for being so late.
May I have some cheese|and sausage
from yesterday's dinner|for my breakfast?
Oh...!
Poor Maren.
Why did I leave|the broom lying?
I'll get the mop.
I've ruined your floor,|didn't I?
I'm just useless|sometimes.
Can you forgive me?
I fear I'll never be|the kind of wife you are.
Evan speaks|so highly of you.
I'll clean it up.|Let me do something to help you.
It's no trouble.
Please.|Can't I be useful somehow?
Our boarder with sore joints|was asking for you
to come to his room|and read to him.
You want me to go to read|to Louis Wagner?
In his room?
He can't walk,|Anethe.
So if he's to be read to|it will have to be in his room.
The book's there|by the front door.
Ja?
I have come|to read to you.
Thank you.
Anethe...?
Louis...
he...
Anethe...|you poor thing.
Anethe?
He...
Louis...
Hush. You don't|have to tell me.
I'll tell John|he stole provisions.
He'll be off the island|in the morning.
If you ever told Evan,
he would murder Louis.
He would be hanged.|Do you understand?
You are so good to me.
Shh-hh!
You must rest.
It's not enough|to live off my charity,
you steal|from me as well?
I never touched a dime|of yours, John Hontvedt.
You calling my wife|a liar?
As God is my witness, I don't|know why she'd say such a thing.
Get out of my sight.
Get out of my sight!|Go!
From now on you have|to earn an honest living!
"Though they go mad
they shall be sane.
Though they sink|through the sea,
they shall rise again.
Though lovers be lost...
Iove shall not,
And death shall have|no dominion."
Dylan Thomas.
We met in a bar
where he was|giving a reading.
I didn't know|it was "Poets' Night."
That morning I had|my first assignment,
taking pictures|of a bloody corpse
the police had fished|out of the Charles.
Perfect preparation|for meeting me.
I think what Thomas|liked about me
was that I'd never|heard of him.
Rich, they look fantastic.
Had you really|never heard of him?
No, I was more of a visual|person, I suppose.
I didn't read poetry.
Anyway, I went on|about my work
never asking Thomas|a thing,
telling him about|this photograph I'd taken once.
It was a father pulling|his son from an icy pond.
In the picture, you see the man|lying down on the ice,
his hands|clasping the boy's,
and both of them|have their eyes closed.
And then Thomas said|the most remarkable thing.
Do you remember?
No.
Come on.
Look,|I don't remember.
He said that my work and his|are very much the same...
we're both trying|to stop time.
- I never said that.|- That's exactly what you said.
- It's pretentious shit.|- No it's not. It's lovely.
If I did say that,
I was just trying|to get into your pants.
I wonder what moment|it was I might have altered.
What movement, left or right,|might have changed fate.
Perhaps I could have done it|with a word... a thought.
It was good of you|to do this for Jean.
She needed the time away.
Maybe everybody would've been|happier if I'd stayed home, too.
You serious about her?
You know me, Thomas,|I never get serious.
I leave that to the romantic|in the family.
I'm a romantic?
I guess you have to be|to write the way you do.
Whatever|the consequences.
Jean knew what|she signed up for
when she got together|with me.
She knows better|than anybody.
Talent excuses cruelty.
Don't you know that?
Not talent...
genius, maybe.
You're talented, Thomas.
The world is full|of talented assholes.
God...
Even a hack can spin something|out of a sunset like that, huh?
I don't even carry|a pen anymore.
How long have you been|interested in Thomas' poetry?
I think I've|always read Thomas.
After the prize,|I guess everyone does, huh?
Not with such|sensitivity, no.
- You're joking with me, right?|- No. I'm absolutely serious.
It's obvious he enjoys|talking to you about his work.
Not that he actually|writes much anymore.
"Blocked" is a cliché|you'll never hear him stoop to.
Oh. I wondered|about that.
You know|he killed a girl?
Thomas killed a girl?
I don't understand.
I don't understand.
When the car accident...|his scar, you know...
Thomas was driving.
There was a girl|in the car with him,
and Thomas went off|the road,
caught his rear wheel|in a ditch and flipped over.
She died.|They were 17.
Was he drunk?
Yes.
So the poems were about her...|"The Magdalene Poems"?
An examination...
of a 17-year-old girl
in the last four seconds|of her life.
"To separate from life,
From tantalizing mysteries|and salt spray...
from grave gypsy eyes
and the sacred poignant flesh|of long-limbed dancers.
A cross...
A cross, my shield|on the altar of her neck."
But her name wasn't Magdalene.|It was Linda.
Hmm, Linda.
And he loved her?
Very much.
I don't think he's|ever gotten over it.
In a way, all the poems|are about the accident
even when they|don't seem to be.
But he married you.
Well, Linda was dead,|you see?
And I hadn't the faintest idea|who Thomas was.
Why did you tell me this?
Don't you want to know?
What's up?
Not much.
God, I can't have|done all this.
Don't touch the dishes,|all right?
I'll be back to do them|in a moment.
Thomas?
- Thomas?|- What?
You're trembling.
Take my coat.
Thank you.
John...
don't you dare sail off|to Portsmouth without my list.
Calm yourself.|We're just doing our chores.
We'll be back to eat|before we go out.
What makes you think|you can beat this wind?
And for God's sake,|don't forget to take
Karen back|to the Appledore.
She's not comfortable|sleeping in the kitchen.
It's wonderful...|having company.
It's ludicrous to sit|in your bonnet doing nothing.
The men aren't taking you|for hours.
Please, don't quarrel.
Not on this day.
What day?
Oh, sisters,
you must swear yourselves|to secrecy.
I have not even|told my husband.
Congratulations,|my dear.
- Is it too soon to be decent?|- How can you be sure?
I am two months late.|January and February.
Perhaps it is the cold.
It is the cold that makes us|seek each other's warmth.
I'm so happy for you.
Hello!
Hello!
I knew it.|They couldn't beat that wind.
They've gone straight|into Portsmouth.
What am I to do all day|dressed in these clothes?
It's a good question.|So, that is that.
The men will not|be back tonight.
This kind of wind|dies in the evening.
Unless they are at the harbor,|sails will not fill.
I cannot bear|to spend the night alone.
You won't be alone.
You're with Karen and me.
I now encounter my most|difficult task of all...
which is that|of confronting the events
of the 5th of March, 1873.
It is not that I do not|remember details of events,
for I do...|too vividly.
The colors sharp|and garish;
sounds heightened and abrasive,|as in a terrible dream
that one has over and over|and cannot escape.
The longer they stay away,|the fewer chores we have to do.
I'm hungry.
Should have eaten|your supper.
I've just cleaned up|the kitchen.
Maren?
Can I spend the night|in your bed?
I am cold|and afraid.
Don't be silly.
Perfectly safe|and warm in your room.
Please?
I know it's childish,|but please?
Come.
Just let the fire|burn down.
Oh, Maren,
you are so watchful|over us.
Like a mother hen.
Your face feels|so warm.
Do you have a headache?
Anethe...
Is that better?
Yes.
Do you not miss John?
The attentions?
Sometimes it's hard|to sit in a kitchen
till it is time|for bed.
Do you do it|every night?
Yes.
Us too.
Turn over.
Take off your nightgown.
My nightgown?
I want to rub|your back.
Anethe...
There.
Is that good?
Yes.
I love you, Maren.
Did I hurt you?
No.
I love you too,|Anethe.
I have discovered in my life
that it is not always for us|to know the nature of God,
or why he may bring|in one night
pleasure and death|and rage and tenderness,
all intermingled,
so that one can barely|distinguish one from the other.
And it is all that one can do|to hang on to sanity.
- Sorry. I didn't mean to...|- Oh, Jesus Christ!
I can't believe you swam|all the way out here.
I had to.|Somebody stole the Zodiac.
Here. God, you must be freezing.|There you go.
You're crying.
- No, no I'm not.|- What are you up to here?
My God...!
I just needed|to take a few more pictures.
In the dark?
The murders happened|in the dark.
What's this?
It's Maren Hontvedt's|statement to the prosecutor.
Looks like the original.
I sort of "borrowed" it|without permission.
It's not like you.
What am I like,|Rich?
Go back to bed.
You all right?
- Yeah.|- Where you been?
I went to the island|to get a few more shots.
I came back the moment|it started to rain.
The other boats left|15 minutes ago.
I don't know|what's going on.
Where's Adaline?
Still sleeping.
Here, would you|take this line?
How'd you sleep?
- What's going on?|- What's going on with you?
Is it really bad?
...indicated by Doppler radar.
Category IV conditions,|including heavy rain,
tidal flooding and winds|above 75 miles an hour
are being reported|along the coast...
We've got a front coming in|faster than I thought.
Okay.
- You all right?|- Yeah.
Listen... the wind alone|could put us on the rocks.
So I'm gonna motor in,|same as the other boats did.
Even if we get caught|out there
we'll be better|than in here.
- Thomas?|- Yeah?
I need you to put sail ties|on the main, all right?
Tightly.
- Jean?|- Yeah?
You and Adaline lock down|anything that can move...
binoculars, camera, drawers...|anything that can shift.
There are extra bungee cords|in here if you need them.
Anything you don't|want to get wet,
put inside a plastic bag|and seal it.
- Jean?|- Yeah?
If this bilge pump stops|running, come get me, okay?
Here, put these on|right now.
I'm going up.
You two gonna be|all right?
Yeah.
I've never been|in a storm before.
We'll be all right.
Did Rich help you last night|with your photographs?
You were gone a while.
I needed to get a few|more shots. He just swam out.
I guess he got worried|and came to check on me.
I wanted to meet you,|Jean.
That's why I came.
Thomas has told me|a lot about you.
Thank God.
I thought a husband might|cure you of perversion,
but I see you have only|grown more depraved.
You don't understand.|I was cold.
So you take off|your nightgown?
- Please.|- Do you think me a fool?
- What is it?|- Oh, poor thing.
I had hoped to spare you this|for your own sweet sake.
Karen!
But now that Maren|has corrupted you as well...
- Stop it.|- She lay with your husband.
- Stop it, Karen.|- Her only brother!
Her sins could only be stopped|by sending her to America.
- It's not true, is it?|- I loved him as you do.
It was sickness,|not love!
When your husband knows,|he'll...
Maren! Oh, my God!
You don't think|to scare me...?
Rich!
Rich! Rich!
Rich, there's water|on the floor.
- What's wrong?|- We've lost power.
- I'll tell Rich!|- What's happened to your face?
- It's rough out there!|- Thomas, I wanna talk to you!
Where's Adaline?
She's seasick.|She went to lie down.
Rich, there's water|over the teak.
- What?|- There's water over the teak!
Check the bilge pump!
Get out of the way.
We've lost the engine.
Jean, can you come take|the wheel for a moment?
Come up and I'll show you|what to do.
- Thomas?|- The sooner the better.
Thomas...?
For God's sake, Jean,|take the wheel!
Thomas, I love you.
Take the wheel!|Go!
Keep the seas behind you|like they are now.
Whatever you do, don't let|the waves get to the side.
You'll be fine.|Take the wheel.
Okay.
Here, put these on.
Damn it, hold tighter.|- I'm holding as tight as I can.
- How bad is this?|- If we get water in that line,
we're fucked...|do you understand me?
Adaline!
Adaline!|You need a vest!
Adaline!
Adaline!
Anethe?
Anethe?
- Maren, please...!|- I never wanted you to know.
Please...?
Oh, please!
I'm so sorry.
Maren...
No one can say|with any certainty,
unless he has lived|through such an experience,
how he will react when rage|overtakes the body and mind...
"...the anguish so swift|and so piercing,
an attack of all the senses,
like a sudden bite|on the hand."
Jean!|Get off the bow!
Adaline!|Adeline! Adaline!
Get off the bow!|What?
Give me your hand!
Oh... oh...
There he is!
Thomas!
And is that man|among us today?
Silence! Silence!
Silence! Silence in court!
Hang him! Hang him!
Silence!
Jean, Jean, Jean...
Louis Wagner...
you have been found guilty|of murder in the first degree.
You are to be taken to|the state prison at Thomaston,
there to be hanged by the neck|until death ensues.
Thomas, Thomas...
This is my idea.|My brother-in-law has a boat.
I thought he could take us|to Smuttynose Island
where the murders happened.
We left our daughter|with her grandmother.
I thought it would be|sort of a vacation.
It's one of those lies|we all believe...
that you can mix business|with pleasure.
The prosecutor|will see you now.
Mrs. Hontvedt.|It's been quite some time.
I've come to make|a statement about the murders.
"The Lord is my Shepherd,
I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down|in green pastures.
He leadeth me beside|the still waters.
He restoreth my soul.
He leadeth me in the paths|of righteousness
for His name's sake.
Yea, though I walk|through the valley
of the shadow of death.|I will fear no evil,
for Thou art with me.
Thy rod and Thy staff|they comfort me..."
God is good. He cannot let|an innocent man suffer.
Louis Wagner is innocent.
God forgive me|for letting you hang him.
"...Amen."
Woman are|naturally unstable, of course.
- Not always to be believed.|Quite true, sir.
We must respect|the jury's decision.
Is that understood?
There are times|in your life when you sense
that something|is about to happen.
And at the same time|you realize it already has.
They say it's also true|of dying.
You can see your life|in an instant,
beginning with birth and ending|with total knowledge.
"Though they sink|through the sea,
they shall rise again.
Though lovers be lost...
Iove shall not."
I believe|that in the darkest hour,
God may restore faith|and offer salvation.
Toward dawn,|in that cave,
I began to pray|for the first time
since Evan had spoken|harshly to me.
These were prayers|that sprang from tears
shed in the blackest moments|of my wretchedness.
I prayed for the souls|of Karen and Anethe,
and for Evan,
who would walk up the path|to the cottage in a few hours
and wonder why his bride|did not greet him at the cove.
And again for Evan, who would|stagger away from that cottage
and that island,|and never return again.
And I also prayed|for myself,
who did not understand|the visions God had given me.
WAR
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