All of you want chocolate? I'll see what I can do.
Roberto! Excuse me.
Happy Thanksgiving. All the best. Happy Thanksgiving. God bless you.
Happy Thanksgiving. All the very best.
Bless you.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Get the police.
Get on the radio.
Coming through!
BP's 80/40. He's already had a liter of D5W.
Happy Thanksgiving, guys. Get the priest into C, now.
- Who's the perp? - Benjamin Mears, age 37. New York license.
- Hold him in A. - A, as in abused by a priest?
It hurt a bit?
Well, that's nothing compared to the fires you'll face on Judgment Day.
Now, let's see what we have here.
Hey, buddy. Wake up.
Yeah, that's it.
Now give me one good reason why...
...as a good Christian, I shouldn't let you die right here.
Jerusalem's Lot.
No one pronounced Jerusalem's Lot dead on the morning of February 6th.
No one knew it was.
By and large, the town, not knowing it was dead...
...would go off to their jobs with no inkling...
...of what lay ahead.
Looking at Jerusalem's Lot...
...is like peering through a pane of ice at your childhood.
It's wavy and misty, but most of it's the same.
McDougall!
Lawrence Crockett is the richest man in Salem's Lot, but the IRS will never know.
Like his neighbors, he relies on the community to keep his secrets.
The social pact is the foundation of every small town.
Macy, tell Richard Straker I'll be 10 minutes late.
Oh, a Mr. Mears stopped by.
- I told him you'd be out at the trailer park. - Mears?
Balls. The writer. You told him I was here?
I'm sorry, Larry. You have to tell me when you're hiding.
Larry?
Ben Mears. Can I interest you in a mobile home?
Great little place to raise a family.
I'll just take the keys to the house, thanks.
- Still living in New York City? - Yeah.
I was, till I sublet my place.
I saw the Marsten house from the road. It's empty, right?
No, I sold it. I'm sorry.
Finally did. Same people who bought the Laundromat.
I have an agreement to rent that. I have the paperwork in my car.
So sue me. I'm sorry.
Look, Eva Prunier runs a clean boarding house on Clift Street.
Who would buy that house?
- Two gentlemen, antique dealers. - And they're aware of its story?
- I suppose. How could they not be? - But you didn't tell them.
- I don't remember. - But you remember our agreement.
What do you want me to say, Mr. Mears? The deal is done.
Would you mind moving your car?
Go on, Mears. You wanna be a Bloody Pirate, don't you?
Come on, Mears. We've all been inside.
You a wuss or a Pirate?
The town has secrets, but sees through lies...
...even the ones you tell yourself.
What are you doing coming back to the place where you lived as a boy?
Trying to recapture something that was irrevocably lost?
What magic do you expect to recapture by walking roads you once walked?
They're now probably asphalted...
...and straightened...
...and litter-shot with tourist beer cans.
Do you even know?
The kids who ride Charlie Rhodes' school bus are the best-behaved in town.
In the entire school district, for that matter. Charlie Rhodes is a bitter vet...
...who runs his bus the same way he ran Kilo Company in Da Nang.
Living proof that time does not heal all wounds.
You got a lot to talk about?
Take it outside.
Don't romanticize the town because it's small.
Or because you fished its waters for pickerel and steelies as a boy.
This town knows darkness.
You can't find them, grind them.
Who said that?
Champ.
The town knows darkness...
...and the poor kids, like Mark Petrie...
...know more than their village peers about the darkness of the human soul.
Surprise, surprise.
Salem's Lot is an accumulation of three parts.
Ass-wipe!
The sum of which are greater than their whole.
What the hell are you two making all those signs for?
He got my hat. He won't give it back.
The town is the people, the buildings they've erected to den or do business in.
There you go. Problem solved.
And it is the land.
Screw Charlie Rhodes. I'd walk every day...
...if my mother wasn't tweaked about the "preverts."
You meet a lot of preverts, Ralphie?
More than I know. Look at Charlie...
...a normal jagoff, till you look under the visor of his bus.
- Shut up. - I know kids who've seen them.
- Seen what? - Pictures. Porn.
Charlieprevert. Com.
Dude, we gotta check this, all right?
We'll hook up tonight, see how Charlie gets his rocks off.
Hey, Petrie...
The people are Scotch, English and French.
There are others, of course...
...a smattering, like a fistful of pepper thrown in a bucket of salt.
Matt Burke teaches English at the high school...
...and is a life-long bachelor.
- Morning, Matt. - Morning.
Matt's alternative life in Portland is tolerated...
...so long as he keeps it out of the classroom.
The buildings here are nearly all constructed of honest wood.
And when I was a boy, it was largely agreed that Hubie Marsten...
...built the finest home in Jerusalem's Lot...
...before going soft in the attic.
Mr. Mears?
Mr. Mears, I'm Susan Norton.
We traded e-mails a few years back. You probably don't remember.
I went to Boston University and couldn't decide between art and English.
- Please, sit. - If I'm not bothering you.
Not at all.
- So what'd you choose? - Art.
Nothing against writing.
Everyone knows you grew up here. I found it inspiring.
- Oh, thank you. - I lived in New York for a year after school.
But I couldn't paint the rent. So I'm home reevaluating.
New York's for artists with generous parents.
And the Lot is for hobbyists who paint lighthouses and lobster boats.
I wish you'd been more persistent with your e-mails, Susan.
Because I'm interesting or blonde?
Because you're an interesting blonde.
- What brings you back? - Work.
A new book. Boring People in the Perfect Town?
It surrounds the Marsten house, but I'm not telling anyone.
A haunted house. Not your genre.
Complex characters can elevate genre.
Hubie Marsten, a respected pillar of the community until the moment...
...he blew his wife away and hung himself from a rafter.
Small-town Shakespeare.
You are the one who found them.
Yes.
- I tried to rent the place. - You actually wanted to live there?
Yeah, it's my...
...attraction-repulsion compulsion.
Kinky things went on in that place in Hubie's day.
I heard.
- You met the owners? - Two guys. I hope they're gay.
It might alleviate some of the gossip off me.
Can I get you something?
Hello. I'm Susan's mother.
It's good to meet both of you.
Susan Norton, Norton's Cafe.
I'm slinging latte here till I can move back to New York.
I think that building you mentioned might be a metaphor for something bigger in your life.
Does it always have to be something bigger?
Like a theme?
There would be if it were my book.
The land is granite-bodied.
Farming it is a thankless, miserable business.
You sure you wanna live out here, Dud? It's getting cold.
I got a stove in the shack, Mike. I'm all right.
We need the leaves and tree cutting for fill.
- Don't burn them. - I won't burn them, Mike.
- What you got there? - He must have got thirsty.
- Hey, put that down. - It's for my girlfriend.
You got a girlfriend now? Who?
Let's go, gimp!
- Who? - I can't say!
Okay, Floyd!
You better toss it away anyway. She'll think you're a freak!
The Rogers family ran a dairy here for generations till Dud was born.
It was sold to the town, which built the hospital Dud needs...
...but can't visit without insurance.
- Royce, could you excuse us, please? - Why?
This is what Sandy McDougall gave up high school for.
Your son has a significant contusion.
I wanna talk to Sandy about it...
...alone.
A winter malaise is epidemic in small towns.
Dr. James Cody fights it with fine dining and new clothes.
Others self-medicate with alcohol and television.
Little Roy hasn't had breakfast.
What happened, Sandy?
I turned my back for a second, and he fell off the changing table.
It's the truth.
Sandy, how long have you been married, now?
Six months.
Still live in Crockett's trailer park?
Not having money doesn't make us bad parents.
No, of course not.
Sandy, I'm required by law to report this type of injury.
- It's not what you think, Jimmy. - It's not?
Sandy, was it Royce?
Look, this marriage isn't all I thought, but little Roy's okay.
We had some fun times didn't we?
Dancing? New Year's at Dell's?
Please, don't report it. Give us a chance.
Bring the baby back tomorrow.
You're a good man, Jimmy.
And a good doctor.
If I'd been a little smarter...
...or drunker that New Year's...
...who knows?
You stay because a small town knows you...
...and thereby owns you. Sure as the bank, the car dealer and the Sears in Livingston.
The kitchen is available to all guests from 5 a.m. To 9 p.m.
Fresh sheets are provided weekly...
...and rents are negotiable for those who wanna work.
Do you have a room with a view?
Oh, yes, I do.
Would you believe it's my hardest room to rent?
Ed, a moment please. Mr. Mears will be staying with us.
- For a few weeks. - Pleasure.
Most tourists leave soon as their tank's full.
I grew up in the Lot as a child with my Aunt Cynthia. Cynthia Stowens.
I knew Cynthia.
- You're her nephew? - That's right.
- The boy who was in the Marsten house? - I am.
You're the one who found Hubie and his wife, Birdie?
Goddamn. You were a ballsy little fella.
Please, come and look.
Some of the men are building me a rec room.
Gentlemen, this is Ben Mears.
Mr. Mears used to live in the Lot.
I know Mr. Mears.
You ever write a book about Afghanistan?
- I did. - Waste of paper, that was.
- Oh, Mr. Blair. - That's okay. I'm glad somebody read it.
Civilian casualties aren't avoidable in combat. I was in the Corps '64 to '70.
Tourists like yourself writing about war...
...are naive, dangerous, borderline traitorous.
- What do you think about war crimes? - War crimes, my ass.
There's three good Marines rotting in Leavenworth right now...
...because of Mr. Ben Mears.
Beneath the postcard camouflage, there's little good in small towns.
Mostly boredom, interspersed with a dull, mindless, moronic evil.
I love them.
I just love these brick walls.
Lawrence, son...
...I called you over an hour ago.
My secretary screwed up.
Fire her. She makes you look bad.
Thanks.
The shop looks good, Mr. Straker.
Well, the truth be told, we don't really need it.
Ninety-five percent of our business is done online.
Well, that explains opening in November.
Weather is regional. We are global.
Madam!
What a beautiful-Iooking letterbox.
My father made it by hand.
Well, your father is a fine craftsman.
I will give you...
...10 dollars to keep it.
You just turn around and take it back.
But if you insist, I will buy that box from you for...
...$60, and I will find a good home for it.
I need the money.
Well, there you have it. Thank you very much. Do come back again.
There's another chore I need you to do for me, Lawrence.
You'll need a large truck. Be at the Portland docks tonight, 7:00 sharp.
- Okay. - There are a dozen crates to be picked up.
All save one are to be brought here to the shop.
The largest contains an extremely valuable sideboard...
...a Hepplewhite.
That is to be taken to my house.
The movers will recognize it by its size.
Yes, sir.
They can leave it in the foyer. The front door will be open.
Got it.
When do we meet your partner, Mr. Barlow?
In his own good time.
This is fancy. Is it valuable?
It's an 18th-century harmony pin.
Belonged to a whoremaster's mistress.
Take it, Lawrence.
Take it...
...for services rendered.
Back it up there, Floyd.
Yeah.
What are you doing?
Give it here.
Give me that.
Get off my property.
He didn't mean anything by it.
I know what he meant. Get him out of here.
Larry, Dud's harmless.
I'll put him on another route. He's like a brother.
What if I find another trash service and landscaper, huh?
- How about I pull all my accounts, Mike? - Don't say that.
- I'm more than saying. - Maybe you should talk to your daughter.
One more crack like that and you're both through. Finito. Do you understand?
- Is that yours? - I threw it out. It's too small.
- You can't encourage that retard. - Like I would. He's disgusting.
I've got 12 crates arriving at the Portland docks tonight I need picked up.
Antiques.
- Stay out of there. - I need money.
- Do you wanna make some money or not? - Look, I'll help with the crates.
- Call me later. - Finders keepers.
How does it look, Daddy? Is it too trashy?
- What? - Nothing. I was just thinking.
So, what were you saying about expression?
Graffiti is a condemnation of architecture.
Kids create on top of buildings because they don't see the expression within.
What is the expression of a building?
Its soul, its ambiance, a byproduct of design.
Or events within.
Back to the Marsten house?
Sorry.
We can talk about your work.
We can talk about the dog.
I'm glad you called.
Get off the stage, boy.
Ben, found an old friend of yours.
- Ben Mears, welcome back. - Hey.
- Hello, Susan. - Mr. Burke.
I don't expect you remember your 8th-grade teacher.
Oh, no, I do. He was the tough guy who taught for three reasons.
June, July and August. Right. I was being facetious, Ben.
I teach high-school English now.
Can you find time to share your success with my class?
It's more of a working vacation.
- You sure? - Yeah.
I'm disappointed.
We can talk all night. The kids want celebrities.
When was the last time you saw a kid read a book?
All I see are headphones and cell phones.
You're right, Weasel. Literature's become elitist.
It's like black-and-white photography.
You know, Ben, I half expected that cynicism from you.
- It's there between the lines. - I like Ben's work.
- Come on, we're just drinking here. - It's okay.
Are you one of the few in town who read the book?
Or did you just skim the reviews?
I read Damage Control and Marching in Heels.
Well, don't hold back.
The world acknowledges your talent as a writer.
I might argue your work is antagonistic when it needn't be...
...emotionally detached and lacking a moral center.
If that's the way you speak with your English class...
...I would be honored to visit.
Champ!
Come on, boy!
Champ!
I'll be lookout.
Panties a little tight?
All right.
- He's coming. - Get out. Get out. Get out. Go. Go. Go.
- Catch you tomorrow. - All right.
Champ!
What'd you see?
Dead soldiers. Their eyes are poked out. Their ears are missing.
A soldier feeding pizza to a lady's head!
You're a douche bag, Ralphie.
Wait!
- Where are we? - It looks like...
Mark?
It has to be Mark.
Mark?
Wait. I can't breathe.
Danny!
No, no!
Danny! Danny!
No!
I think Susie wants out.
She's always e-mailing other guys, old teachers, old boyfriends.
Well, how do you know?
I set up a computer for her and her mother.
- So of course I got the passwords. - Floyd.
Floyd.
- You set up my computer. - Relax. I don't know your business.
I don't want to. What? You have nothing to worry about.
- Nothing's wrong with surfing The Barnyard. - You son of a bitch!
Yeah, I bet you felt real sorry for that dog.
I can't believe you!
You could get that.
- Hello. - Mrs. Petrie.
Hi, I'm Marjorie Glick. We've never met.
Look, are my boys still at your house? If so, could you send them home, please?
One second, Marjorie. It's Mrs. Glick. She thinks her boys are here.
- They went home. - Mark says they went home.
- They must be on the way. - Does he know what time they left?
- I didn't see anybody. - We were outside. They left at, like, 8.
Mark says the boys left around 8, Marjorie.
- Okay. Great. It's getting late. - It is.
- Would you like to speak with Mark? - No.
No. No, I guess not. Thank you.
- We'll have to meet some time. - That would be nice.
Not in this life.
- Danny? - I found him lying in the road.
My God, is he all right?
- Where's Ralphie? - Call an ambulance.
Hubie?
Birdie?
It's Floyd.
Forgot to pay your electric.
Hey, you gonna give us a hand here, Hubie Jr.?
Crockett's paying us 100 bucks to deliver this crate.
If I said to you, Mike...
...I'll pay you 200 bucks...
...to come into the Marsten house alone at night...
...would you do it? - Hell, no.
Me neither.
I find that humorous.
This place used to keep me up at night.
As a kid, I could see it from my bedroom window.
I wouldn't be able to sleep unless my mother pulled the shade.
Where are you going?
I wanna see Hubie's bedroom.
And the bathroom where Birdie...
Straker?
Let's get out of here.
You better get back in there. Birdie needs a boyfriend.
- You heard footsteps. We both did, right? - I heard squealing.
I think that was you.
Hey, Mike, what do these Beemers run?
Hurry up.
I told you it was Straker.
Just spread out.
No sign of the Glick boy.
- Find evidence of the boy.
Mark, what were you boys doing on this side of town?
We were just playing flashlight tag.
Charlie Rhodes lives just over the hill. Did you hear about his dog?
Yeah, I heard it died.
Mrs. Glick says you and her boys had some trouble with Charlie on the school bus.
You got him angry. Did you see Charlie last night?
No.
Shut up, Cujo! Quiet!
Hi.
Mr. Mears. Surprised to see you this morning.
A child won't last long in this cold.
These Norton girls are angels, Ben. Before them it was Eva Prunier.
You may not see it, but our landlady was the prettiest in the county.
Eva's still pretty. I can see it.
What I see in Eva, it's magic.
Careful, Ed. Mr. Mears will turn your heartbreak into a bestseller.
Our secrets are safe.
Ben's working on a piece of historical fiction.
Yeah, I heard.
- Marsten house? - Who told you that?
Little bird in the library.
What was it like in the house? Tell us about when you found her.
You'll have to wait for the book.
Come on. Give us a preview.
I was 9 years old, living out on Burns Road with my aunt, Cynthia.
I went in on a dare from the Bloody Pirates.
Was Hubie already hanging, or did you see him do it?
I saw.
I spent the whole night in there until a friend finally got my Aunt Cynthia.
Terrible place, looking down on this town like a dark idol.
- There's a quote for the liner jacket. - We need some more water.
Yeah, I'll help.
What about Ronnie Barnes?
Did you see him too?
No.
No, I never did.
I'm so embarrassed.
I know you didn't want people to know what you're writing.
I went to the library. I mentioned your name to Loretta Starcher.
Now the whole town knows. I was trying to help.
- It's okay. - I was researching the Marsten's for you.
I wanted it to be a nice surprise.
- Are you mad? I would be. - Ben Mears.
Didn't mean to interrupt. May I speak with you?
I'll call you.
I know you're on to something with this book.
- Never thought we'd see you again. - It's nice to see you too, chief.
So give me an alibi.
I was having drinks with Susan till 9.
Matt Burke says you left Dell's at 8 because you wanted to work.
It might have been 8.
Did you see any children on your drive?
- Any flashlights in the woods? - No.
Anything unusual? Maybe a van parked alongside the road?
No.
All right. I do appreciate your help today.
That dog in the cemetery, who found it first?
I did.
Okay.
Floyd, everything work out last night?
He paid me, Larry. Thanks for the job.
Pocket money. Keep your lady happy.
Well, what can I do you for?
You heard about the missing kid?
A parent's worst fear.
Well, while we were up at the Marsten house making that delivery...
...I looked in the back of the new owner's car.
I saw a plastic bag in the back seat.
It was leaking.
Was it little-boy-sized?
It was head-sized.
The new owner is Richard Straker.
You think he killed the missing Glick boy and kept the head?
I'm not saying all that.
What will that do to his antique business?
- It was leaking all over the leather seats. - Did you tell Mike what you saw?
No. I didn't think much of it at the time, until today.
So why tell me? Go tell Parkins Gillespie, if you think it's important.
I'm telling you because you know him.
Relax, Floyd.
Straker called me this morning, excited about tackle and shacks.
Seems he tried his hand at ice fishing and finds it relaxing.
Ice fishing.
Maybe he bagged a tuna or cod, whatever you swamp Yankees pull out of these lakes.
Ice fishing.
Well, that's a relief.
I was driving myself crazy.
I understand...
...but we have to be careful, Floyd.
Loose talk can ruin people.
My first suspect was the other new guy in town. Some hotshot writer.
- What writer? - Mears.
Nice enough, but a city guy. A bit abrasive. You know him?
Ben Mears.
I know of him.
I better get back to work.
Hey, thanks for last night.
And thanks for coming to me first on this.
Bishop's Lake.
That's the best spot for ice fishing.
I'll tell Straker.
You're on my short list, buddy.
Dud.
I'm sorry, Dud. I can't use you today.
What? Why not?
Ruth Crockett. You shouldn't have been messing with her, Dud.
Now Larry's threatened to pull all the accounts.
Well, I can't put you on the truck, Dud. I can't afford it.
But we're friends, Mike. We're best friends.
I know. I know.
We still are.
What will I do?
I don't know.
You know, I'll help you find another job.
Until then, look, just take this...
...to hold you over, all right.
It's not your fault, Dud.
Whatever you did, it was just, you know, misunderstood.
I'm sorry.
Danny, can you hear me?
Danny? Can you hear me?
If you can hear me, blink your eyes.
He's in acute mental shock.
Maybe from excessive fear, grief...
...or some sort of emotional trauma.
Excuse me.
He's getting worse.
Marjorie.
I believe this is Danny's.
- Yes, doctor. - Doctor.
Sometimes the power of prayer and local facilities have limits.
It's shock, Father. Your car didn't hit him.
He'll snap out of it.
Stop it.
Hi. How's little Roy today?
He's fine, Jimmy. See for yourself.
Hello. Hi. How you doing?
I really appreciate your help, Jimmy.
Maybe after you finish with Roy, I could buy you lunch.
You know, I usually have my lunch in the cafeteria, Sandy.
Well, little Roy and I could join you.
That wouldn't be a good idea.
- What would your husband say? - "Order a salad. Your ass is fat."
That was a joke.
Most doctors love kids. They have pictures all over the office.
It helps the patient relax.
They figure, "This doctor's so busy thinking about his kids...
...he's not thinking about my naked body."
Yeah, well, I love kids, you know. They're great to work with.
They have this, you know...
...way to thank you with their eyes.
Yeah, but you love your toys too. I mean, look at this car.
- Still a player. - Player?
- You think this car's too dope for Doctor C.? - Maybe.
I only said "player" because I know how you were at Dell's.
- I danced with you, remember? - Oh, yeah. I remember.
Would you pull over? I have to check on little Roy.
Sure.
I can't.
You're still a nice guy.
You are.
If I could have chose everything in my life...
...I'd have chose a man like you.
The more interesting items are in the store.
I'm sorry. I was looking for a local boy who's missing.
I don't think you'll find him here.
No.
I'm Ben Mears, Mr. Straker. Been anxious to meet you.
Richard.
You and your partner took the house I was interested in.
You comfortable up there?
Well, it's a handful, Ben.
I hope you find the little boy.
Somehow, I don't think we will. Not alive, anyway.
How's your alibi?
Excuse me?
The police spoke with me today. We're both new in town.
We're not even new. In a small town like this, we're strangers the first 20 years.
Well, I happen to like it here, Ben.
And your partner?
- Mr. Barlow? - You a reporter?
Writer.
- Critics call me "typist." - "Typist"?
Typist.
Well, if you're curious about the house...
...come up and have a drink one night.
The truth is the place scares me.
Well, then you never intended to take it, did you, Mr. Typist?
- It's Romeo. - More like Hannibal.
Ruth!
- Can I talk to you? - Send him for pizza.
- Hey, go wash my car! - Shut up.
I got fired, Ruth.
Mike said I shouldn't have been messing with you.
I was thinking maybe you could talk to your father so I can get my job back.
It wouldn't do any good. He's mega-protective.
- I hate my father more than you do. - Really?
Well, I still like you, Ruth. I really do.
You seem like a nice person, Dud.
But that stuff at my house was just to make my father mad.
- But, Ruth... - I'm sorry, Dud, but you gotta get real.
Get out of here, gimp!
You're not my best friend, Mike.
Not anymore.
Dump's closed, mister.
I'm just watching the fires.
It scares the animals away.
Just the rats.
Smokes them from their holes.
Yeah. Where will they go?
I guess they'll find another hole.
You from around here?
Yeah, just over the hill.
- What are you writing there? - Nothing.
I lost my job.
Mike was my best friend since junior high.
It's his backhoe.
- I'll wash it off. - No, leave it.
I didn't do anything wrong.
I was just talking with Ruth Crockett, my girlfriend...
...and her father got crazy...
...and told Mike he had to fire me or he'd lose all his work.
Yeah, that's too bad.
Say, aren't you one of the fellas that bought the Marsten place?
- Very good. - Are there any ghosts in that old house?
Ghosts?
No.
- No ghosts. - I didn't think so.
Well, anyway...
...it's always nice when someone comes down to, you know, shoot the breeze...
...but the dump closes at 6 and it's half past 9 now, so...
Dud...
...I noticed your limping.
Curvature of the spine?
- Does that bother you? - Nope.
I can work fine.
I meant in other ways.
No.
Well...
...girls.
Just girls.
Their boyfriends, the other kids?
Sometimes they laugh.
What were you to say if I gave you a chance...
...to be equal to those boys and girls?
Or maybe even a little more. Would you take it?
Equal?
Danny.
Danny?
Come on, Danny, it's me...
...your brother, Ralphie.
Remember?
You left me in the woods.
Ralphie?
- I'm just messing with you, Danny. - Go away.
Danny, I'm not mad.
Danny.
I knew you were scared.
Cripes, I was scared too.
But not anymore.
Danny...
...I'm messing with you, Danny.
I ain't scared at all.
Let me in, Danny.
Don't let Mom and Dad blame you.
Let me in, Danny.
All right.
You went to lunch with Sandy McDougall?
- What's wrong with that? - Oh, nothing.
She's 19, married, barely educated. What else is right?
What's going on here?
Now, who remembers the Morris chair?
This.
Such an excellent example.
Very popular in Berkeley.
Look at that leather.
Please be kind enough to tell your friends we're open...
...and that our prices are so very reasonable.
Madam...
...this drop-leaf table would look beautiful in a foyer...
...or in a servants' entrance.
I am the only servant in my house.
And I am Richard Straker.
Eva Prunier. I own a boarding house on Clift Street.
Eva Prunier.
Your name is familiar.
And your accent.
Excuse me?
Tell me, Eva...
...of all the old parlor games, which one do you miss the most?
As you may share a little morphine avec his little friend.
I am jealous.
You must have been so young at that time then.
All you little village girls, what, 16 years old? Fifteen?
Did you give to Hubie...
...what I think you gave to him?
Oh, I knew it.
- And did you wear his goat's-head mask? - Stop it!
I taught Ben Mears in the eighth grade. He survived.
Since then, he's had a distinguished literary career.
In 2001, he was captured by Taliban troops...
...while reporting the Afghan war.
He was rescued from certain death by U.S. Marines.
On the return trek...
...Ben's Marines killed 10 Afghan villagers.
Damage Control is a factual account of the incident.
Three Marines were court-martialed and imprisoned.
Ben received the Pulitzer Prize. Mr. Mears is in town researching his new book...
...on the Marsten house.
Mr. Mears, should anyone in their right mind trust an author?
A good author illuminates truth.
- Yes. - What's the truth about this town?
I used to think nothing happened here.
But the truth is everything happens here.
One has to look close in a small town.
The beauty is in the details.
You have all the horror of Qalai Janghi prison right here in one battered child.
All the beauty of Michelangelo in the alabaster calf of one...
...shoulder-high waitress.
The longing you feel for the boy or girl in the next row...
...is equal to or greater than what your favorite musician feels...
...for his favorite supermodel.
Never minimize your feelings.
Or this town.
What's the truth about the Marines that saved you in Afghanistan?
I'm not a waitress or shoulder-high.
- Let me checked those Michelangelo calves. - It was metaphors on the fly.
- What do you want from me? - Proof.
And they really liked him?
I'll say they warmed up to him.
The boy went from mental shock to extreme anemia overnight.
What our grandfathers would call wasting away.
That poor family. Two sons.
Can you imagine?
The red-cell count on a 14-year-old boy should run between 85 and 95 percent.
Danny's was 45.
- How long until people make a connection? - Here it comes.
Come on. Ben, the whole town's talking.
The house.
It's like a curse.
Did you know that Hubie Marsten's trucking firm in Boston was a front?
Hubie was questioned twice by police. Once in Boston, and once in Malden.
The Malden thing was for the murder of an 11 -year-old boy.
Hubie and his wife moved to the Lot in 1958.
Between '58 and '74, five children disappeared.
But we've had no missing kids since Hubie died. Not one.
Now the house is occupied and we have one boy missing and another one dead.
So the house is a beacon for evil men.
It attracted you.
Ben, I'm sure what you saw there as a boy still haunts you.
- You think? - It stayed in the town's consciousness too.
Not just because tales of nastiness do, but I think because of location.
It looks down on us...
...like it's judging us.
Or it's the mirror by which you judge yourselves.
We have to go up there.
Introduce ourselves to the new squire?
- On behalf of the town, of course. - I've met the squire.
- It's research. - Susan, stay away from there.
Ben, you're committed to the truth.
Why don't you tell us why you're really here?
You're not writing a book on the Marsten house. Right?
No. No, I'm not.
What do you mean?
- Ben? - The book is a non-fiction look...
...at the roots of domestic evil.
You're writing about us?
- Of course he is. - You lied? To everyone?
Haunted houses are not my genre.
So we're evil. We're a small town, small-minded and evil?
- I won't be a character in your stupid book. - Hey, Susan!
You will find evil if you want it, Ben.
Racism, greed, envy.
But we have heroes here too.
- I'm sure. - If you're gonna look at this town...
...Iook fair and throw away your preconceptions.
I've seen the good, and it far outweighs any bad.
We're wrapping up for the night.
Eva?
You all right?
No, I don't think so.
What is it, Eva?
That house.
It haunts me.
I used to sneak up there with Eva Werts and Loretta Starcher.
We were young, bored.
Hubie and Birdie Marsten were alive.
I'm ashamed of the things we did.
You were just a kid.
I used to write letters in French for Marsten, to a man in Marseilles.
Marsten admired this man, said he was beyond good and evil.
Horrifying, sublime.
I'm thinking about the missing boy and his brother, Ed. I feel terrible.
I feel as though the invitations that I wrote...
...are somehow being answered.
- After 50 years? - Well, suppose he had a partner or a son?
No, no.
Eva...
...you know how I feel.
I liked your husband. I respected him.
But I love you now.
And these last 10, 15 years of our lives...
...they can be great together.
This loving you from afar was killing me.
Mom?
It's Danny.
I found Ralphie.
Go away. Stop it.
Who is this?
I wish you'd told me earlier about the dog, Michael.
I'd have postponed the funeral.
It was dead, Father. It was hanging on the fence.
Yes, but now all this land has got to be reconsecrated.
Technically speaking, we're standing on unhallowed ground.
"Jerk."
It's Dud. Should never have fired him.
Where's he been hiding?
When tragedy strikes in a family, there's a safety net.
It's the safety net of community, of which we are all a part.
However, when tragedy reaches out and touches us all...
Sticking to the anemia, Jim?
The family refused an autopsy.
It may have been anemia. I'm not sure.
Whatever killed Danny Glick is being buried in that grave.
Ben Mears was in a motorcycle accident three years ago. A girl was killed.
Mears was cleared of all blame.
Kurt Barlow, antique dealer. That's all they found on him.
- That's it? - On him.
Richard Thomas Straker, born in Tampa, Florida.
Expelled from UF in 1966 for selling MDMA.
Charlie Rhodes is clean. The big surprise is the boy's father.
Tony Glick filed for bankruptcy in 1990 and left a lot of people in Nashua on the hook.
Thanks, Nolly.
- Your daughter called from Florida. - Danny!
Congratulations, boss.
- Stop this nonsense. - Aren't you young to be a grandfather?
Ed...
...I wanna pay my respects to Jack.
I feel guilty about last night.
I was upset and did something I shouldn't have.
It's my fault.
I'm sorry, Ed.
- Hi, doctor. - Hi.
- I'll see you later, Matt. - I can't believe it.
- I used to babysit Danny Glick. - Yeah. Oh, how's the baby?
Poor little boy has a chest cold.
I don't have the car, and Roy says doctors don't make house calls anymore.
- He says they're on a pedestal. - I didn't say that.
Well, I wouldn't say a pedestal, but I guess I could make a house call.
Ruth?
Ruth.
It's freezing in here.
I came home from school.
What's wrong, honey?
Are you sick?
Why don't you let me take that necklace off?
No.
I had the strangest dream.
I was married to Dud Rogers.
He took me flying over town, and I saw a big fire.
- I saw you yelling up at me. - Dud Rogers? The cripple?
Sounds more like a nightmare.
You had Dud fired.
- That job was all he had. - The guy is a menace.
Can I get you something?
No.
You sure?
- Nothing? - Not that!
Can't you see I don't feel good?
Floyd?
You there, Floyd?
Come on.
Come on, we'll get you inside. It's too cold, too cold.
It's okay, it's okay.
What?
Mike.
- Mikey? - Are you staring at me?
Mikey.
Your eyes are poked out.
Ears are missing.
Stop staring at me.
Damn you.
You will shut those eyes!
Damn you, shut those eyes!
I'm a working mother. I can't drive Mark to school. I need him on that bus.
I understand.
I spoke with Charlie Rhodes, and he seems to think...
...Mark knows a lot more about the dead dog than he's saying.
He also thinks that Mark may be selling pot on the bus.
- That's bull. - Is he crazy? My God.
What's the problem between you and Charlie?
What, besides the fact I don't have a father to kick his ass?
Maybe I can speak to the principal at Mark's school.
Maybe she can broker a truce.
You know what? Don't bother. The guy's a moo-goo-gai maniac anyway.
What?
You know, like, Vietnam, the...
Charlie was there. He shows us pictures on the bus.
He thinks he can, like, impress us or something.
Don't lie about this, Mark.
He keeps them locked in his glove compartment.
Royce!
Royce, no!
You're going to die. Are you ready to die, doctor?
Is my wife a whore? If not, you think you can pump her for free?
- No, no. - No, because she is a whore.
- Royce, baby, please... - Shut up, Sandy. Shut the hell up!
That's a $ 10,000 whore you just rolled off. You understand?
Ten thousand tomorrow, or I pull this trigger.
Who'd blame me? Who'd feel sorry for a dirty doctor?
Okay! Okay.
- Shut that thing up! - It's okay, Roy. It's okay.
- Shut that thing up! - What? Royce, no!
- Here you go. - Thank you.
- Hi, guys. What can I get you? - Hey, Susie, take a seat.
I'm pretty busy now, Floyd.
Hi, Mike. How are you?
- Well, I'm fine, Susan. Thanks for asking. - So where you been, Susie?
Working.
Can we talk about this another time? Soon?
- I think we have some things to talk about. - We do.
Oh, that was good, Floyd, but I think we can push a bit further.
My point being is, why doesn't anyone here just, I don't know, say the truth?
What's wrong with you?
- He doesn't feel well. - Come on, Floyd.
Tell her you're pissed.
She got dumped by the writer...
...and she's crawling back to homeboy.
- Knock it off. - What's he saying?
Floyd, tell her to kiss off, or tell her you love her.
At least say something real.
Look, this... This isn't fair, Susie.
Are you with me or with him?
- Neither. - Who is this writer guy anyway?
Come on. He's the one you been reading about on her e-mails.
- I said, shut up! - What e-mails?
- Shut up, Mike. Shut up! - Hang on, now. You two are friends.
- What kind of junk are you on, Mike? - Nothing.
I'm just sick. Sick of all that bullshit, anyway.
You upset about the funeral?
I came back after everyone left.
I waited around a long time, and that's when I must've started to get sick.
Everything after that is gone.
What do you mean?
I saw my mother's eyes...
...which is pretty weird, because she's dead.
My mother's eyes watching me drown.
It was a pretty crazy dream.
Why do you say it was a dream?
Look at my clothes, Mr. Burke.
- I must have fallen asleep in the dirt. - Come on, we'll get out of here.
- You can sleep in my guest room. - I can drive.
Listen to your old teacher. You're either sick or high.
So if you're not better in the morning, I'll drive you to the clinic.
Susan.
Could I speak to you for a minute, please?
- I've said all I have to say... - But I haven't.
- Please. - I think we've had enough for one evening.
Mom, I'll be right in.
I'm not gonna stop writing the book, but I can change the name of the town.
I could change the state. The town was only meant to be a metaphor anyway.
- Then why choose Jerusalem's Lot? - Because this is the town I know.
It's a town you think you know...
...and a town that thought it knew you.
He'll be gone in a day, Susan. You'll see.
Now that the truth is out.
Dud?
Hey, Floyd.
- Where you been, gimp? - I don't limp anymore, Floyd.
And why not?
Because I'm different.
You were always different, Dud. Where you going?
I'm going to see Ruth Crockett.
Do yourself a favor. Stay clear.
Clear of them all. Bitches ain't worth it.
I need some food, Floyd.
For Ruth.
I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Dud.
If you're pissed with anyone, it should be Larry Crockett.
Mike and I always been good to you.
Especially Mike.
Dud?
You seem a lot better now.
Yeah, the fresh air must've sobered me up.
I have a sweatshirt for you, and sweatpants.
That door leads to the bathroom.
Thanks.
That...
...bruise looks painful.
Oh, yeah. You should've seen the other guy.
Well...
...you should get it taken care of.
- Good night, Mike. - Good night.
Ralphie?
Ralphie, where have you been?
Yes.
Yes, of course you can come home. Please come home, Ralphie.
Mike.
Hello?
Thank you for coming.
I'm surprised you called me.
What you write is the least of my worries.
Well, is he alone?
- He is now. - Maybe it's an intruder.
- Did you call the police? - No.
Not yet.
- I want you to see the body first. - The body?
- You said he was acting strange. - He's not moving.
Did you go in there?
I peeked in, briefly.
Was he dead?
- I don't know. - Matt.
What the hell is going on here? You didn't kill him, did you?
No. Of course not.
Mike?
Mike Ryerson?
You see? Nothing.
Look at his chest. Loot at the bruise.
- There's no bruise. - I saw it. It has to be there.
He might be G'd out on some designer drug.
Call an ambulance, the police and a lawyer, if you have one.
Hang on, hang on. Mike buried Danny Glick today.
There was a bruise on his chest. I saw it!
I heard talking in this room. I heard him open the window. I heard laughing.
I should have come in, but I was too scared.
Your intruder would have to be a fireman to climb up.
Ben, I know what I heard.
I wanted to tell you before everyone starts calling me crazy.
Okay, let's get this done.
Handsome corpse. You sure he's dead?
Atypical lividity, but he's dead all right.
- Sorry to drag you into this. - Don't be.
- I don't know why you did, though. - If I told you, you'd have me committed.
Maybe we should move down the hall a bit. Could be some kind of contagious disease.
Is it similar to what killed Danny Glick? Acute anemia?
We'll leave that for the lab coats, but there's no immediate sign of foul play.
As for that intruder you heard...
- You have a 12-foot ladder in your garage? - No.
You heard Mr. Ryerson's voice and some laughter.
- Could it have been his laughter? - It sounded like a child.
You said he slept here because he was acting loopy and started a fight.
- Yeah? - Some people laugh when they're drunk.
They'll run some toxicology tests on his blood.
How did you get involved in this, Mr. Mears?
Matt called me.
Close friends?
Literary men.
See, most people find a body, and they call the police. You called a writer.
I should've pulled that trigger. You're finished, Cody.
Banks don't open until nine, Royce.
- Look, I'm with a dead body here, okay... - You're gonna be the dead body.
My wife came to you professionally!
- I'm calling the medical board! - Don't call the board.
Don't call the board.
That's not gonna help anybody. I need time to shift some funds.
I just bought a car.
You'll have your 10 grand by tomorrow.
You okay?
Pupillary contraction. Gets me every time.
- Were you waiting for me? - No, sir. Run along, Mark.
Anything unusual? A van parked along side the road?
Oh, Ben, I heard about Mike Ryerson. What happened?
- Nobody knows. - Ann Norton called.
She has some things to say about the book.
- I don't have to look for a new room, do I? - No, no. You could write a chapter on me.
Thanks.
Ed, where were you all night?
Blowing off steam. Hope I worried you sick.
I've been thinking about us, Ed.
Is that right? What have you been thinking, Miss Prunier?
Weasel, got some beer, if you give me a hand.
Breakfast of champions.
Parkins, I want my phone call!
Let me out of here!
- Let me out of here! - Shut up!
Do you think these bars will hold me, Mears? I'll see you tonight!
Yeah, I'm really scared! Why don't you bring your rubber gloves?!
No wonder she broke up with you!
If that's what you wear to a fight, what do you wear to bed?!
Who do you think was in the room with him?
I have my suspicions.
I'm holding back, lest peop...
Call me crazy. There's someone upstairs.
You're sure?
I know my house. There's someone up there.
You hear?
Call the police.
- Matt. - Not yet.
Start talking. About anything.
Well, you won't get any argument from me. I completely agree.
You hope he gets run out of town?
You're totally right. He can't be trusted.
He did deceive you. He deceived all of us.
- And then they just turn out to be someone completely different.
Mr. Burke.
Mike.
- What happened to you? - Look at me.
Mr. Burke. Look at me.
- I know why you invited me here. - Go away, Mike.
- I can feel the way you look at me. - I revoke your invitation to this house.
Mike, in the name of God Almighty...
...leave.
Wouldn't it be a relief to touch me, just once?
Then I can touch you.
- Look at me. - You're dead, Mike!
- What happened to me? - You died, Mike. You died.
You died yesterday.
You're a monster, a nightmare...
No. No, that can't be.
Go away, Mike. Go away.
No!
Matt?
Matt!
No, no! No!
- Lights out. - Let me out of here! Let me out of here!
- What am I being charged with? - Drunk and disorderly.
Mears.
Oh, Mears.
- You wanna finish this, Mears? - Go to sleep...
...before I charge you with assault. - You're a coward, Mears.
You'll never be a Bloody Pirate.
What did you say?
You'll never be a Bloody Pirate.
Marjorie...
Ralph!
Mark.
Open the window.
Come on, Mark. Open the window.
Mark.
Open the window, Mark.
It's not just me, Mark. He commands.
Mark, I'm cold out here. Open the window.
Mark.
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep...
What do you want?!
Let me in, Mark. Come on.
Open the window...
...or I'll try another one.
Okay, come in.
I'll kill you, Petrie, and your mother!
Ben Mears, I can see you through the grate.
Here I come, Mears. Almost there.
I see your knees shaking and the piss running down your leg.
What's it gonna take to make you face me?
Go to sleep, Tibbits.
Sleep? I'm wide awake.
I'll be awake all night.
You're not in the vent.
Of course I am.
I squeezed and slithered to reach you.
I broke my collarbones and hips, Mears, but I'm getting there.
I'm getting closer.
Look at me! Look at me, Mears! Invite me in!
We'll finish this fight. I'll rip your heart out. I'll squeeze it and drink your blood!
- Leave me alone! - Invite me in, Mears.
Hail Mary, full of grace...
...help me win this stock-car race. - Damn.
That's quite a story.
They said you was a writer, but l...
You gonna sit with him your whole shift?
Wait.
There's more.
Think I'm gonna stay a little longer.
Is he gonna make it?
The fall ruptured his spleen. Pulmonary and myocardial contusions.
But he can talk.
I hear that, but whatever Mr. Mears says now could be his last testament.
Please, don't go.
No one awake knew the truth.
A handful might have suspected, but even their suspicions were vague and unformed.
Monday was garbage day on Jointner Ave.
Today the green bags lay scattered on the curb.
The library was closed, so was the New Look Salon.
Now the light spilled across the land, and all the evil things slept.
The untouched walked slowly in Jerusalem's Lot...
...as if their bodies had become glassy and fragile.
They turned on all their lights, and they did not look out their windows.
That above all else, they did not look out their windows.
Free to go, Mr. Mears.
Miss Norton will drive you home.
You are being released, but I advise you to watch your step...
...in Jerusalem's Lot.
What about Tibbits? Is he still in there?
- He's still with us. - If you want to press charges...
...Deputy Gardener will assist you. - I'm fine. Let's go.
This isn't like Floyd. He's not the violent type.
What did you tell Floyd about my past? How does he know about the house...
...and the Bloody Pirates? - What are you talking about?
I'm only here because Matt Burke had a heart attack.
Let's see if he has any ideas about Mike Ryerson's death...
...and the missing Glick boy. - Floyd?
Floyd, get up.
Holy...
- What the hell's going on here? - He's chewed his own wrists.
- Barry? - Jim.
Hey, how'd it go the other night? Did you stuff that little Sandy McDougall?
Actually, Barry, I'm in a little trouble.
- Can I ask you for a loan? - How much?
Ten grand. Only for a week. Just until I liquidate some assets.
You know that Beemer's really drank up all my cash.
Yeah, it's just that I've dumped everything into T-bills.
Give me a couple of days to round something up...
I don't have a couple of days. I kind of...
Sorry to put you on the spot like this. Thanks anyway.
I'll be outside.
I confirmed you've had a mild heart attack.
The good news is your heart will continue to function just fine.
At your age a myocardial infarction can be induced by a number of things:
- Diet, cholesterol, smoking... - And fear.
Jim, I want you to help me...
...or commit me right now.
Now, these guys already think I'm crazy.
Why's that, Matt?
I had a heart attack because I was scared.
Scared to death.
I saw Mike Ryerson in my house.
Well, that's understandable.
Mike died in your house.
You've suffered some trauma.
Sometimes we see things...
- Jim, did you perform the autopsy on Mike? - No. No, I did not.
He had his shirt off. He had two cuts.
Vertical on the chest. Horizontal on the stomach.
Maybe one was a mistake, or the ME decided to dig deeper.
- Find out why Mike had two cuts, okay? - All right.
- There's more. - Matt has asked me to go to the church...
...to get some holy water.
Are they still talking?
Matt is.
The more he talks, the more afraid I get.
Of vampires?
No, for Matt. He's talking himself straight into the loony bin.
Whatever's going on, Matt Burke isn't crazy.
I never thought so either.
Susan, I have friends in New York. You could go and stay.
Get away for a long weekend.
- No. Thanks. - Let Matt and the police sort this out.
If something's going on, I wanna help.
I misled you about the book.
But not about my feelings.
Go on, Mears. Don't be a chicken.
You wanna be a Bloody Pirate?
I wanted to be a Bloody Pirate, so I entered the Marsten house.
You're not a Pirate till you bring something back.
- Unless he kills you. - If Hubie kills you, you're in.
That night, it poisoned my life.
Everything changed after that night.
I could hear things scuttling away from me on the other side of the plaster.
Living things. Rats or woodchucks or whatever else...
...that had been nesting in walls or hibernating in cellars.
I could have left quickly, but I didn't.
I wanted to prove myself, so I went upstairs.
The house smelled. Mildew and upholstery rot.
And the kind of rancid smell like butter that had gone over.
I kept thinking I heard footsteps behind me. I was afraid to turn around...
...because I might see Hubie Marsten shambling after me with a carving knife.
Even then it was the house of legend and nightmare.
I didn't walk. I ran to Hubie's bedroom and grabbed my souvenir.
And that's when Hubie came home.
I knew the rumors. Whispers that Hubie Marsten kidnapped...
...and sacrificed small children to his infernal gods.
The campfire tales of torture and worse.
I fled to the bedroom and hid in a closet.
Hubie was coming my way. I pulled at the door...
...desperately trying to close it, but it stuck on a garment bag.
Hubie entered the room...
...and I watched the rest.
Hubie was not alone in the bedroom that night.
- String up. - Something was with him.
Something I never saw, but could only define as a presence.
- No more. - Hubie was on his knees.
He sobbed and begged for his life.
Whatever it was, didn't seem to listen.
Hubie's wife, Birdie, lay on the bathroom floor.
Legs splayed, bare feet...
...chest yawning from a shotgun blast.
Then the impossible.
Help me.
I collapsed. I was paralyzed.
Through frozen lips, Birdie Marsten cried:
"Help me. Help me."
Birdie's cries continued all night.
And I could not move.
Something in that house loomed above me and laughed.
Aunt Cynthia found me the next morning, rambling about Birdie's ghost.
My aunt checked inside the bathroom, where I was afraid to go.
The cries heard that night weren't Birdie Marsten or any ghost.
Ronnie Barnes, the boy in the bathtub.
Yes.
Cynthia told me not to talk about the crying.
That it wouldn't have helped him anyway.
So I lied.
And then I said I never heard Ronnie.
Everyone felt sorry for me. They even said I was brave.
- You were 9 years old. - But I could have saved that kid.
That's why I came back. That's the book I have to write.
Small-town lies. My lies.
What about the house? You said there was a presence.
And it scares me, even to this day.
I think it was my own cowardice laughing at me.
Ben, you're no coward.
I'm the one who can't leave home.
Maybe I will go to New York, Mr. Mears.
If you'll come with me.
This time I have to stay.
Could've been fun. Now we're stuck with Matt Van Helsing.
Shall we go check him for puncture wounds?
Mr. Zazelka left his lesson plan for you.
He's sick today, along with quite a few others.
Something must be going around.
Vampires.
Well, maybe we should scrap the lesson plan and do some creative writing.
I didn't think you'd make it to school.
Don't tell me you're sick after you were out all night.
Where were you?
- What's gotten into you? - What, or who?
You're grounded, Ruth. I don't care if you think it's unfair.
I'm still your father.
Oh, is that your choice, or do you still want it both ways?
Who is it?
- Who is what? - Who were you with last night?
My boyfriend.
Dud Rogers!
Ruth. No.
Rogers!
I'll kill you!
- I'm surprised you're going along with this. - Well, I don't believe in vampires.
But I have to accept that people are dying of anemia. What's your excuse?
Professional curiosity.
I don't know how, but Matt Burke was right about Mike Ryerson's autopsy.
There were two incisions on his body.
I think the police should take a good look at Floyd Tibbits.
He attacked me yesterday. He was wearing a hat.
Floyd Tibbits is dead.
He chewed through his own wrists in jail last night.
I think he might have drank his own blood.
- Hello. Father Callahan? - Yes.
- Father, I'm Susan Norton. - Won't you come in.
I'm not a Catholic or anything.
I have an odd request from Matt Burke...
...a teacher in town who's not a Catholic either.
He would like some...
Could you please just visit Matt Burke in room 3A over at the hospital?
Sure.
Is there something else you'd like to say?
No. Definitely not.
What are you gonna tell the Glicks?
I want to exhume their son. Check for infectious encephalitis.
It's the only explanation.
Some people think the Marsten house is involved.
When something bad happens in this town people always look to the Marsten house.
It's been that way since I can remember.
Marjorie died this morning.
They took her husband Tony to the hospital.
He's in shock.
Where's Marjorie's body?
- Should be the county coroner's. - My daughter spoke with the police.
Chief Gillespie took Marjorie to the funeral home...
...on account of no one knows where Carl Foreman is.
- Who's he? - He's the coroner.
Larry, Chief Gillespie.
Parkins, you better do something about Dud Rogers.
I want that cripple out of town.
I've been speaking with the town clerk's office.
I don't give a rat's ass.
Dud Rogers is stalking my daughter. I want something done.
You might ask him about that missing Glick kid too.
We've been going over land transactions...
...for the Marsten house and the Laundromat.
It's clear that Richard Straker did not buy the Marsten house.
- You did. - So?
In return, Straker's corporation gave your corporation thirty acres...
...in Kennebunk, which, once that new Crystal Mall is built...
...will be worth 20 times the house and Laundromat.
Now, why would Straker swing such a lopsided deal?
- You'll have to ask him. - I will, but right now I'm asking you.
Whatever business I have with Richard Straker or anyone else is confidential.
Who is Richard Straker, Larry?
An antique dealer, as far as I know.
- Where is Kurt Barlow? - I believe he's in Europe.
- What's happening to this town? - How do I know?
Ask Dud Rogers.
Now, are you gonna straighten out that gimp, or am I gonna do it myself?
Don't think that I won't.
What?
- What are you looking at? - Floyd Tibbits died in my jail today.
Tibbits?
You ain't worth a piss hole in the snow.
Get the hell out of here.
Well, if you're gonna accuse me of something, then do it!
Why did you buy that house for Straker?
You son of a bitch. I'll have you...
What's going on, Larry? Why did you buy that house?
None of your business.
Why did you buy that house?
Straker said he wouldn't buy the damn house.
He wouldn't buy his way into any town.
He had to be invited.
Invited?
He had to be invited?
Larry, what have you done?
Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary in town lately?
The mortality rate is certainly on the rise.
It's getting higher.
Any explanation?
Vampires?
It's difficult to proceed as it is.
But it's gonna be more difficult if you think I have sickbed dementia.
On the contrary, you seem extremely lucid.
Lucidity doesn't presuppose sanity, does it, Father?
No, it doesn't.
- First were the two Glick boys. - And then their mother.
- Marjorie Glick died this morning. - Mike Ryerson.
Floyd Tibbits. And Carl Foreman is missing.
He's the county coroner.
He and his wife are in my parish.
Have you considered the possibility of vampirism?
Well, that's a rather novel diagnosis.
Really? I'd say it was a very old diagnosis.
The church's concept of evil has radically transformed...
...this last century, Matthew.
We still acknowledge Satan and the demons...
...but we see them now mostly as aspects of the human psyche.
- Blame that on Freud. - Freud?
Oh, yeah, you're right. He did spoil all the fun.
The good thing about this remote possibility is it's easy to prove.
I also don't need you to believe. Not yet.
A doctor from here and a very astute writer...
...are investigating the possibility right now, even as we speak.
The only thing I ask is that if they return...
...with evidence of vampirism...
...can we count on your immediate and unwavering support?
I'm always available to help you, Matthew.
Sorry I'm late.
Susan, Susan. Floyd Tibbits is dead.
What?
Floyd had a fight with Ben. They put Floyd in the drunk tank.
- I know... - Well, Floyd killed himself in jail.
- He slit his wrists. - No.
It's terrible. You stay away from that writer, Susan.
- This is crazy. - And you're right in the middle.
It doesn't look... I don't care how it looks, Susan.
I just don't want you hurt.
Floyd slit his wrists?
Poor Floyd. He must have had second thoughts.
I hear he tried to stop the bleeding. It's terrible. He drank his own blood.
Would you say there's money in literature?
You plan on writing a book on this?
No, I was just being rude.
- Frank. - Hey, Jimmy. Good to see you.
- Did they ever find the other boy? - No, they didn't.
Poor woman must have died of heartbreak.
- She your patient, Jimmy? - No, no.
But her condition is strikingly similar to Mike Ryerson.
No surface lividity, no rigor. No incipient rigor.
Frank.
- I'd like to sit with her tonight. - Sit with her?
There's a strange virus going around.
Look, it could be infectious encephalitis.
But either way I'm gonna need some time to observe the decomposition process.
Well, whatever you want.
Be sure to lock the door when you leave.
Well, of course. Thank you.
It's a tragedy.
- Norton's Cafe. - Hi.
- Is Susan there? - Susan's left work, Ben.
Did she say where she was going?
No. She got a little upset...
...when she heard about Floyd. - Does she have a cell phone?
- I'm afraid not. - Thank you.
- It's all right. - Who are you?
I'm Mark Petrie. I know you. You're Sue Norton. My mother knows your father.
Joyce Petrie. It's my mother. The waitress at Giaco's.
- What are you doing here? - What are you doing here?
Did you come to kill the vampires?
- A friend died last night. - One of them tried to get me.
That was Richard Straker in the SUV. He's moving around by day...
...so he must be the watchdog.
The vampire's name is Barlow. And he's the partner that nobody's seen yet.
You're not the only one talking about vampires.
- Who else? - A teacher and a doctor.
- You okay? - It's that house.
A writer friend of mine spent a horrific night there when he was a kid.
- Ben Mears? - You know him?
I know the story. Did you bring a stake too?
Yeah. That's cool, but I don't think it's going to work.
Don't believe everything you read.
Come in.
- Hello, Father. - Ed, come in. Have a seat.
We have something to celebrate today, Father.
- What would that be? - Eva Prunier has agreed to marry me.
- Well, congratulations. - Persistence and patience.
And love. Nothing good ever happens without love.
We'd like to do it tomorrow. A small ceremony. Very simple.
- That is, if you're available. - It would be an honor.
I've had some good news meself.
Unusual, but good. A true battle.
Perhaps there's a need for this religious relic after all. Care for a Jameson's?
Never say no.
Here's to your marriage and the death of Freud.
- Slainte. - Father, maybe I'll wait on this drink...
...what with the wedding tomorrow and all. - No. Has she's reformed you already?
Perhaps I'll abstain as well.
Closed.
Closed all day.
Thank you.
Stop. We'll call the police.
- I have friends who can help. - No.
I'm going in before that kid comes back to my window.
- I'll go. You keep watch. - No, thanks.
When we find him, don't look into his eyes, okay?
He sleeps in a coffin until dark, but he can still hook you with his eyes.
Do you hear what you're saying? Do you really believe this?
What if Barlow is just an ordinary serial killer?
You wish.
- Oh, God, do you smell that? - Yes.
- It's worse in here, isn't it? - Yes.
That's where we have to go.
- I can hear my heart. - I can hear your heart too.
Mark. Oh, no.
The police are on their way. That was an alarm you triggered.
- We... - Don't come any closer.
Just take whatever it is you have and leave.
- We're not stealing anything. We're just... - What do you want?
- Are there more of you? - No. Look, I'm sorry.
We were curious about the house.
We heard it was sold, but we didn't think anyone lived here.
You're trespassing.
What does he have there? You're armed.
- It's just a hammer and some wood. - A hammer?
You've come to vandalize?
No, look, I'm Susan Norton. I've lived in Salem's Lot my whole life.
This is Mark Petrie. We know you just moved here, and...
And this is the way you welcome me? With hammers and guns?
You...
...show me that.
What is this?
Is this a weapon? Is it?
- No. - Is it?
No!
Fine!
- Help! Help! - Go on!
- Help! - Three.
Two.
Help!
One. Time's up.
Oh, this is ridiculous.
I'm killing my career.
I'm being blackmailed.
Professionally?
It was very unprofessional on my part.
If you saw the man's wife, you might think it was understandable...
...but certainly not professional or forgivable.
I'm surprised. I didn't think doctors had penises.
Yeah, it's an industry secret.
We usually try to keep it between ourselves and the nurses.
How much?
Ten thousand, by today.
He threatened to call the board earlier.
I might not even be a doctor right now.
You're too busy to be a doctor. You're a vampire hunter.
- We should be home by midnight. - That would be Cinderella.
I can't stay any longer. It's useless. I gotta go find Susan.
What if she went up to the house?
Oh, my God.
Ralphie?
Where are you, sweetheart?
Marge? You okay?
Use the cross!
She bit me!
She bit me! She bit me!
She bit me!
Give me my bag! Give me my bag!
She bit me.
Tetanus.
In my heart.
Do it! Hurry up!
Did we get it?
You should call me in the morning.
Hello?
Hello?!
Susan!
Ben, there's no car. Would she really come up here by herself?
If you think so, we'll go in. If not, we should find her.
We'll come back together with a plan.
You wanna be a Bloody Pirate, don't you? Go on, Mears.
- Unless he kills you. - If Hubie kills you, you're in!
Susan!
Ben, come on.
Call Norton's. Let's check her house.
Help! Help me, please!
- Help! - Here I come, ready or not.
Where are you?
- Susan! - Mark?
I can't see. It's so dark.
- Come down, boy. - I know your name!
- I admire you. Come down for a taste. - It's Barlow!
There's enough here for two. Why would you run, boy?
Susan!
I'd like to drop everything and help, Ben, but I have four missing people...
...and three dead.
When was the last time you heard from Susan?
- It was about nine hours ago. - That's not so long.
I've been to her house, the cafe, the gym, the library. Nobody knows where she is.
What's going on, Mr. Mears? Do you know? Because I don't.
I have suspicions, but if I don't know, I can't help.
You wouldn't believe me.
Ben?
Be careful, Parkins.
Susan?
Closed. It was closed yesterday too.
Thanks.
Thank you kindly.
Ed, breakfast is ready.
Ed?
Yeah?
Is there a writer here named Ben?
- Ben Mears. - Yeah, could you get him?
- Please? - He may be sleeping.
No, he'd want you to wake him up. Please.
Morning.
- Are you the friend of Sue Norton? - Yes. Have you seen her?
Ben.
- Ben, have you seen Ed this morning? - No, I haven't.
- We're getting married today. - Married?
- Can I talk to you outside? - Of course.
Congratulations.
We went in the house through that window.
She's still up there! Right now. Look, I don't know what she...
I'm with Mark Petrie. He was with her. I'm headed there now.
You can't barge in. I can get a warrant...
...within the hour. - Stop.
I gotta go, chief. I'll call you back.
Father, with what Mark says and Susan's car, that's proof enough for me.
Hold on a minute. What if Straker's partner is armed?
How are you gonna protect yourself?
I made these up last night.
- Take that. - Son, stay in the car.
I'm going.
- Maybe you'd rather stay behind, Father. - No, I'll go. This team needs a clear head.
Vampires. Would have been a lot easier to accept...
...if you could have arranged for a thunderstorm or a power failure.
Would a dancing Marjorie Glick do it for you?
It's a loan.
Ten thousand? I can't take this from you.
When this is over, we're gonna need your good reputation.
- Thanks, man. - You guys hear about the hippie vampire?
He's ghoul, man. Real ghoul.
- You're doing well, Ben. - Oh, yeah? How so?
Only a trained physician can see that you're scared out of your mind.
I've never been up here before, at least not this close.
Hold on.
Let cooler heads prevail.
Hello?
- Hello? - Susan!
Hello!
Straker's upstairs.
There's something different.
- He's bled dry. - Holy Mother of God.
I didn't do that.
I tried to go down, but I didn't.
I know what's different.
It doesn't smell anymore.
Over here.
Give me the stake.
Hold on. You have to make sure.
If he's dead, you're only desecrating a corpse. But if he's not...
Legally dead.
Saints preserve us.
Here!
My God. What monster did this?
She's dead.
Or undead.
Wait! Wait!
What if we kill Barlow and they all come back to life?
Or they just die.
- You don't really believe that. - But what if?
Please, not Susan. We know where she is.
We can come back if we have to.
- What if she infects someone else? - Please.
Please.
It's been a gruesome day.
Rest in peace.
- Who's poking around the Marsten house? - Can't say from this distance.
Town looks a little dead today.
Maybe I'll take a ride up and see.
They're leaving, Nolly. Let it be.
Sometimes these badges get in the way.
Our badges? What do you mean?
- Are you all right, Parkins? - No.
I'm scared.
On lighter occasions, these used to hold the perfect martini.
There's a presence in that house. I don't know if you can feel it.
Oh, I can feel it.
I felt it before, when I was a boy and I went inside.
I thought it was me. I thought it was...
...some manifestation of my own fear.
It wasn't.
- What is it? - The unholy spirit.
Dull, mindless, moronic evil.
As familiar in the confessional as the smell of old velvet.
Marsten invited the unholy spirit into his house and home, and there it resides.
In that house, it feels so familiar. It feels like it's coming from inside me.
Evil comes from inside of all of us.
I've made a fine career turning the hard mirror on other people.
Would you feel more comfortable in the confessional?
I don't need absolution, Father. I need peace of mind.
I'm weak.
I let a boy die once.
Out of fear.
I could have saved him, and instead I lied.
And now my lies have grown like a cancer.
And as much as I can, I hate myself.
You're way beyond hate now, Ben, and into truth.
Truth with yourself is the first step towards forgiveness.
Truth with the Lord follows.
Five Hail Marys, two Our Fathers and an act of contrition.
That was a fine confession.
Hi, Sandy. Is Royce here?
Jimmy, I'm sorry about this.
Yeah, me too.
Royce?
Got my money?
Look, Royce, I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say.
Just give me my money.
- I should have known. - But you didn't.
Men grow old, but never old enough to know better.
Royce, are you feeling all right?
Oh, now he wants to get down my pants too. Get lost.
- Has he been acting strange lately? - What?
- Get the hell out of here. - Listen to me.
There's a virus going around. You should come to the hospital for an exam.
Then let me take Sandy and Roy in for the vaccination.
- Get out. - Just get out of here. Go!
My car. I'll give you my brand new BMW if you let me take Roy to the hospital.
- You're not taking my baby. - Shut up, Sandy.
You're gonna give me your Beemer? For keeps?
Yeah. Keys for keys, my car for yours. I just wanna get Roy vaccinated.
- You can pick him up tomorrow. - Give him the kid.
- Royce! - Give him the frigging kid.
Come on.
Come on!
He's fine. I just want a complete physical and a full blood check.
- Who is he? - He's my nephew.
Why don't you register him under my name. Okay?
- Told Matt what happened at the house? - He confirmed what I already knew.
Well, it's an epidemic now.
I don't know the pathology, how it starts or spreads.
You know how it spreads.
But why do they need blood?
Do they lack the capacity to generate red blood cells?
We put kidney patients on erythropoietin when dialysis chews up their red-cell count.
Maybe a 30-day trial would cure one of these beings...
...if we could stop them from killing long enough.
Hear what I'm trying to say? I don't know how to stop it.
Start with Barlow. He's the root. And then we work our way back.
Finding Barlow may not be so easy. He's experienced.
- He'll be clever. - Where's Mark and Father Callahan?
- They went to get Mark's mother. - Convincing his mother will take time.
- It's almost dark. - Which city, please?
Jerusalem's Lot. Petrie. This is the last time we split up.
Hello? Mark, get over here. Come here.
- Mom! - Hello?
Whatever you've been doing with Mark does not sound right at all.
Can we continue this debate at the hospital?
- We have to hurry. - There's blood on his clothes, Father.
Did you really pound a stake through a man's body? And the two boys?
Mark.
- Mark. - Stop, stop.
There's blood in your hair.
You've involved my son in a crime, Father. I know about you.
- You have a reputation with the bottle. - Mom, he didn't do anything!
Father, I want you to leave! I'm gonna call the police.
- I don't wanna see you with Mark again. - Please!
Call Dr. Cody and Ben Mears. They were... God, the fricking phone is dead.
Give me that! Hello? What...?
Mom?
In God's name!
Back away. Back away, shaman.
- Let him go. - Piss off! You get out of the room...
...and I'll save his life. - No.
- He killed my attendant. He can replace him. - Stop!
Why?
Will you sacrifice your little cross? Throw it away.
Meet me on even terms. Black against white.
- Your faith against mine. - And trust you to let him go?
Run, Mark.
Go on, run!
Your turn, Father.
The crucifix.
Drop it.
You stay away from me.
I'm a priest.
I command you, in the name of God.
The demands of your church are impossible. It's all about sacrifice and no proof.
Nothing to sink your teeth into. Isn't that terribly Ionely?
Kneel, Father.
Kneel.
Say a prayer if you have to. Confide in me. Where did you go wrong?
Was it a little nip over lunch?
Some wine with dinner?
Drugs? Little boys?
You're not ready to go to heaven. You know it.
You'd welcome death. Instead I'll have you serve as a mortal.
Life is such a precious gift. So have a drink on me.
Enjoy the present.
Drink.
Did I do the right thing with my life? Was I mislead? You know, don't you?
Is there a God?
Whoever feeds you...
...is your God.
Eva.
I'm sorry I'm late.
- I can't enter. - What is it, Ed?
It's different, is all.
It's wonderful and strong.
Are you different, Ed?
Yes and no.
I love you even more.
Join me, Eva.
It's all right, Ed.
I love you.
All those years.
I should never have made you wait.
This is my choice.
Sons of whores.
Hey, Petrie!
You come on out of there! I know it's you!
Come on!
All right.
I hear you.
According to literature, a vampire can't simply walk into a man's house.
He has to be invited.
Mike Ryerson invited Danny Glick into my home. I invited Mike...
He killed my mom. He killed my mom. She's dead.
Hello?
Sorry to call so late.
I'm glad you did, Daddy.
I'm up every three hours to feed little Connor anyway.
I wish you were here in Florida.
Me too.
I'm trying to decide...
Decide how much they need me here.
They'll always need you, but I need you too.
- Little Connor wants to see his grandpa. - Yeah.
The weather's good for golfing, Daddy.
Don't wait forever.
He just amazes me. He's a tough kid. Tougher than I was at his age.
You're tough enough.
- You haven't tried to leave us. - Don't tempt me.
How long will he sleep?
Till morning.
I can't promise what shape he'll be in when the sedative wears off.
- What do you think of his story? - I think it's true.
- You think Barlow climbs walls? - That may be an illusion.
I wouldn't be surprised if Barlow flew in like a damn bat.
You think he got Callahan?
I think Father Callahan would be here if he could.
You have to find Barlow tomorrow.
- To kill the serpent, you cut off the head. - Where do we start? The antique store?
Too obvious.
Mark said Barlow picked him up by the neck.
That chalk?
Could he be in the school?
Junior high is close. So is Butler Elementary.
He could hide in a furnace room or storage area.
Schools are abandoned at night. He could move freely.
That's where you have to concentrate.
Take Mark with you. He'll be a diversion.
- Don't you think he's been through enough? - Think about it.
Two adults snooping around a school? How long before someone calls the police?
Use the boy. Use everything you have, Ben. And be prepared to lie.
If you two get locked up, we're finished.
- He's right. - If you haven't considered it already...
...consider it now. There is every possibility that some of us or all of us...
...may live and triumph only to stand trial for murder.
We can't go in there now.
We should check where he was last seen. We may find another lead.
My house.
I'm all right. Let's just get him.
You have family around here?
An aunt in California.
Would it help to go back in and see your mom?
Maybe there's something you'd like to take?
- Parkins. We need your help, Parkins. - Too late for that.
My deputy didn't show up today. Somehow don't think he will.
- Where are you going? - None of your business.
Parkins, this town's dying.
- But we still have a chance. - This town's dying...
...because something terrible was born.
Something between Marsten and whatever games he played in that house.
That's why Barlow came here.
Ask Larry Crockett. He's the son of a bitch who invited him.
Barlow's a killer. He's a monster.
We think he killed the Glick brothers, Mike Ryerson...
Marjorie Glick, Dud Rogers, Charlie Rhodes Floyd Tibbits, Carl Foreman...
...maybe even Susie Norton.
He's not just a killer, is he?
No.
I'm not afraid to die, Mr. Mears. Not at all.
But these people don't die, do they?
Hello, Father.
Hey, Father.
Thought we lost you.
You...
You did, boy!
I thought I'd make you taste your own medicine.
It hurts, doesn't it!
Crockett? Crockett!
Larry! Larry!
How many pills did you take, Larry? Larry, look at me. How many pills?
- We're looking for Kurt Barlow. - You sold him the house.
Ruthie's gone.
He flew out the window with my daughter, and they laughed at me.
Was it him?
It was Dud Rogers! Dud Rogers and Ruth Crockett.
Ruthie Crockett.
Get him in the light. See if he's one of them.
What do you know about Barlow? You sold him the house!
- Chief Parkins says you invited him! - I didn't know. I swear I didn't know.
- Look, let's just go, okay? It's getting late. - You get out.
You can't judge me!
I don't give a damn about your forgiveness!
Get out! This is my house! My house! And I'll destroy it if I want to!
The white chalk could be dry wall.
They're renovating my boarding house.
Are you saying the chalk on his shirt was dry wall?
We gotta check hardware stores, construction site...
It's only two miles from the Marsten house.
The lady at the boarding house asked about Ed. Said he was missing.
The Marsten house, the boarding house, construction site... Barlow can be anywhere.
There are five people living in this house with me and no one's answering. Let's go.
What's the alternative, Jim?
You wanna leave?
I'm not saying that.
But this isn't gonna be over today, Ben.
It'll be weeks before we get to them all, if we get to them all.
Can you stand that?
Can you stand doing what we did to Mike 1000 times?
Pulling them out of closets, their stinking holes...
...only to ram stakes into their chest cavities and smash their hearts?
Can you stand that without going nuts?
And what about Mark?
- You think he can take it? - We're wasting time.
Matt Burke says that the good in this town far outweighs the bad.
- And what side was I on? - I think you have a choice.
- Oh, God. - He's here.
I'll get a flashlight.
Cody!
Oh, God!
No!
They cut the wood.
He's here.
I can feel it.
Use a hammer!
Oh, my God.
We have to hurry. Pull it into the light.
Give me the hammer.
He looks like a regular guy. Could be someone's father.
Don't look at him.
I said, don't look at him!
- No! - Mark! No!
Mark!
Fame.
Money, women.
Think. You're the writer.
Killing me will never kill the evil in a man, nor yourself.
Think. You will always be flawed until you embrace evil.
You don't have the guts to put that stake where it belongs.
You will always be weak within.
Think, writer. Desperate man...
...sucking tales from whom you meet.
Feeding on the lives of family and friend.
Spinning their tragedy into personal gold.
I know where you're going with this.
You are the vampire.
I'm not the vampire.
Not anymore, you son of a bitch!
Look at me.
He's gone.
I think they're dead.
Go on and get in the car.
- Ben. - Susan.
Did you kill him?
Why didn't it help you?
I don't need any help.
I only need you to be happy.
- May I come in? - No.
Ben, this isn't your house.
And you're not a religious man.
You don't have any faith to keep me out.
You're wrong.
I do have faith.
You pushed me to it.
Oh, Sue.
I wish you'd never gone in that house without me.
I was stupid.
Reckless.
I did something for you, Ben. I was so excited to tell you.
I went to the hospital.
After I saw Father Callahan.
I found the records of the boy from the Marsten house.
Do you know how he died?
- Very slowly. - No.
He was strangled. He died instantly from a crushed larynx.
Ronnie Barnes was never alive that night.
You couldn't have saved him.
The crying you heard wasn't him.
I don't understand.
Even at 9 years old, you had a good imagination.
I could love you, Ben Mears.
I feel it.
No, Susan.
I'm sorry.
You've been sorry long enough. It's time you forgive yourself.
Ben! Ben, they're everywhere!
Susan, no!
Ben.
We gotta go.
Crockett!
- They're everywhere. - Come on!
He's right...! Look out! Look out!
Ruth!
I found you.
This was a good town, a good community.
Take me with you, Ruth.
Take me, please.
You can't join us, Daddy.
But you can help us live.
- I don't want your blood. - But we want your flesh.
No, no.
Ruth.
We can stop these things.
If we burn them out, they'll have nowhere to hide.
A couple people looking in the obvious places could do well.
Maybe we'll get lucky, find some help along the way.
They say fire purifies.
That should count for something.
Mears.
Ben Mears! Damn you to hell!
Damn you to hell!
Purify.
Oh, man, that's quite a story.
So the boy lived.
Did he come to Detroit with you?
Ben?
Ben!
Ben?
I got him, Ben. It's done.
It's finished now.
We won. You can rest easy. We won.
Hunting season's over?
I don't believe you.
I can't.
God bless.
- What's going on with this guy? - Bring his chart down.
- Call anesthesia, stat. He needs to be tubed. - Bed down.
Pillows out.
And now I am comforted by thoughts of the town.
I see autumn hills. I pedal my favorite bike down Main Street.
They say you can never go home again, but I did.
I came back to my town.
And in the dark, the town is yours, and you are the town's.
And together, you sleep like the dead, like the very stones in the old north field.
All clear.