Ain't got all day.
Dad, I can't!
Ain't got all day, boy.
Go on, boy.
Help!
You can do it.
Let me see you move your arms. Kick your legs!
Come on!
You're not trying!
Nobody's gonna make it easy for you!
I used to imagine that I'd been given to the wrong family at birth...
and that, somewhere in the world, my real people longed for me.
From where my father stood...
my failure to dog-paddle was only the first of many failures.
Failure to speak clearly. Failure to sit up straight.
Failure to make friends every time we moved to another dreary upstate town.
In me, my father recognized a failed life:
His own.
When I got admitted to the junior college,
my father figured it was a clerical error.
When I dropped out a year later, he wasn't surprised.
Quoyle!
Job not stimulating enough for you?
This is the best work I've ever had.
I stumbled into adulthood learning to separate my feelings from my life.
Counting on nothing.
I got used to being invisible.
Until someone noticed me.
Let's go.
Wake up! Go!
What's your name?
Quoyle.
Are you alright?
I'm starving, Quoyle, aren't you?
I sell burglar alarms.
Really?
That must be interesting work.
I'm an ink setter. I work for "The Poughkeepsie News".
You haven't touched your food.
Oh.
So, what do you think?
You want to marry me, don't you?
It's 8:05.
I think I'm gonna fuck you by 10:00. What do you think of that?
Oh my god... that was the biggest one yet.
I'm always hungry after I get laid.
I guess 'cause I burn up so many calories.
You live in a dump, Quoyle.
I love you.
Nibble, nibble, little mouse...
What'd the doctor say?
If I end up with stretch marks, I'll sue his ass.
Petal, is everything okay?
Petal, you're the only woman I've ever loved.
Mm-hm. How do you make an Alabama Slammer?
Where are you, sweetheart?
Alabama. That's the point.
Look up the recipe. It's on the fridge, where I keep the Mr. Boston.
If you come home, I'll make one for you.
Oh Christ, never mind.
I'll have a Vodka.
It's okay, Bunny.
Is your friend gone?
My "friend"?
Oh, shit.
Don't do that. Don't touch me!
Stop doing stuff! Creepin' around, cleaning up.
Look, it's no good.
Find yourself a girlfriend.
I don't want a girlfriend. I want you.
Your funeral.
- Are you gonna be home for dinner? - Don't expect me.
- Bunny's missed you. - Hey, Petal.
Hey, Bunny Rabbit. Petal's gotta run.
That's so pretty.
Here. So's that.
Oh, shit!
- Sorry. - That's okay.
Hi, this message is for Daniel Smith...
confirming your appointment with Dr. Davis today at noon.
Quoyle, this is your father.
Lost your home number.
It's time for your mother and I to put an end to it.
I left instructions with the undertaker, Dayton & Sons.
Told 'em to notify my sister, Agnis Hamm.
Not much of a life. Nobody gave me nothin'
Other men would of given up and turned into bums, but I didn't.
I went without so you could have advantages...
not that you done anything with them...
What, were they sick or something?
Come on, they must've left something. What's their house worth?
No, the bank is taking it. There's nothing left.
There were medical bills, and funeral costs. It's all gone, honey.
You wanna marry me, don't you?
I won't have to go to school?
It's an adventure. Who goes to school when they're on an adventure?
Is Daddy coming?
No. Daddy's boring.
Daddy's boring?
That's right. You're a very clever girl.
There's Frank. Come on, he's waitin'
Hey, big guy.
Bye.
Hey... what about my pay?!
My pay... You owe me for three weeks.
She didn't leave me a message or a note somewhere?
Only for you to pay me.
What? Her name's Bunny.
She's six years old...
Agnis Hamm. Half-sister of Guy Quoyle.
I'm your aunt.
This is a bad time.
So I heard. I'm here to visit his ashes.
No, I mean this is a really bad time.
She's never done anything like this.
I mean, she's walked out before...
but never with Bunny. I don't understand.
The potato chips won't help you. Drink your tea.
Tea's a good drink. It'll keep you going.
Could you maybe stick around for a while?
Sorry, just passing through.
On my way to Newfoundland, where our people come from.
You ever been there, Nephew?
I just wanted to say farewell to Guy first. If you'll tell me where he is.
Oh. Sorry. He's the one on the left.
Petal, hello... is that you?
- Mr. Quoyle? - Yes, it is.
This is Investigator Danzig from the New York State Police.
Oh Jesus... have you found 'em?
Yes, sir.
- Hello? - Yes, sir, I'm still here.
How's Bunny?
I think she's gonna be all right.
Thank God. And Petal?
We'll talk about that when we get there.
You're gonna bring her here?
Yes, sir.
- You have the address? - Yes, we do.
They're bringing Petal... they're bringing Bunny. They found 'em.
The cop's got somethin' to tell me about Petal.
I hope she didn't get in any trouble... she's got such a temper.
The convertible went over a guardraiI in Jersey.
Fortunately, your daughter was no longer traveling
with Mrs. Quoyle and, uh... and her male companion.
She was mercifully killed on impact, I can promise you.
Look... there is something else.
Seems she sold your daughter to a black market adoption outfit...
for $6,000.
There was even a receipt, if you can imagine.
That's how we tracked her.
Daddy!
Hi, sweetheart.
Who's that?
"That" is your Great Aunt Agnis.
Where's Petal?
Mommy?
Maybe I could stay just a day or two.
"Your loved one has not left your heart or your thoughts...
but is sleeping peacefully."
She's sleeping?
Yes. Peacefully.
In heaven. With the angels.
If I was asleep, I'd wake up.
Why are you so scared?
What do I do?
It takes a year, Nephew...
a full turn of the calendar,
to get over losing someone. That's a true sayin'
The move'll help. You'll see.
What place on earth could be better than the place your people came from?
Smell that clean northern sea?
I'm not a water person.
At least the girl is.
I hope we're doing the right thing, Aunt.
I thought I'd never come back here.
But the older you get, there's an ache, a pull...
somethin' you've gotta figure out.
Like you're a piece in a puzzle.
It takes some time to get used to the rockin' out here.
It's a place like no other.
The people who came here came by accident.
Those that stayed learned strange things can happen.
Omens and restless spirits... Magic...
We Quoyles, we left it 50 years ago.
Hard times.
We're nearly there. Quoyle Point. Named after us. You.
I don't understand. It's May, there's so much snow.
Up here, forget everything you thought you knew about the weather.
I was born in that house.
Empty 44 years, look at that roofline. Straight as a ruler.
Look.
I wonder who that is.
It's your grandfather, Sian Quoyle. Died before I was born.
Died young... 12 years old.
Twelve? Then he couldn't have been my grandfather.
You don't know Newfoundlanders.
Who's this?
It's my father and...
And you?
I never did care for that hat.
Oh my lord, the blessed table!
We can't live here.
It's all fixable. We'll get a carpenter.
It might be cheaper if we just build a whole new house on the Riviera.
Only I wasn't born on the Riviera.
Daddy?!
What...?
Why'd you wake me up?
I wanted to see if you were asleep.
Are these cables so the house won't blow away?
So far so good.
They say it rocked in storms like a big rocking chair.
Made the women sick, so they lashed it down.
They're moaning.
The house is sad.
What?
You should let it loose.
I'm here to apply for a job.
Come on in.
Name's Tert Card; managing editor, rewrite man, and snow shoveller.
You'll have to do without the boss.
Himself, Jack Buggit, has called in sick, as per usual.
Which is why I am occupying his office, Billy Pretty, and no bones about it!
Come in.
Name?
Quoyle. I just got here yesterday...
A Quoyle, are you? I should of seen that right off.
Sit down.
Prior experience as a journalist. Washington Post? London Times?
No, I'm not a journalist. I'm an ink setter.
Gammy Bird.
Are you in my office, Tert?
No, Jack. I'm just conducting a job interview here at my desk.
Job interview?
There's a Mr. Quoyle here... says he's an ink setter.
The fella's a Quoyle, you say?
And no mistake.
Have him meet me at the dock in one hour.
That bronchitis of yours cleared up already?
Much better. Thanks for your concern.
Over here. Step lively.
- Hello there, Mr. Buggit... - The name's Jack.
Come on, get in.
I'm not a water person.
All Quoyles is water people. Boats is in your blood.
That's why I'm hiring you. I need somebody to cover the shipping news.
The harbormaster'll get you a list...
what ships come into, and go out of Killick-Claw.
But I'm an ink setter.
Pay attention... I don't need no ink setter, I need a reporter.
You'll be doing local car wrecks... take the photos, write the story.
We run a front-page car-wreck photo every week,
whether or not we actually have one.
There's a knack at taking photos that make you feel something.
If there's a dark patch on the ground, it reads blood...
whether it's motor oiI or Diet Coke.
And you want something human lyin' in the road...
a child's mitten, a purse, a baseball cap.
That's what makes the reader feel.
I'm no reporter.
You think any of them tomcods knew how to write when I hired 'em?
I get a feeling about people, that's all.
Welcome home, Guy.
I can't do it. Even if I knew the first thing about writing, which I don't.
Car crashes? I can't cover those.
Why not?
You know why not.
We face up to the things we're afraid of because we can't go around them.
Car wrecks are a fact of life up here.
Come winter, a drive into town'll be damn near impossible.
We'll buy us a boat.
I already told you, I'm not a water person.
They dragged it here.
What, honey?
The house. They dragged it here.
You must've had a dream.
Who told you about that?
Long time ago, on Gaze Island.
The old Quoyles couldn't make a go of it there.
So they lashed the house with ropes and dragged it.
Across the ice, clear to the mainland. Right here.
This is from the "News of Your Neighbors" column.
"The pole on the corner of Main and West Streets...
has a sign on it saying it's illegal to put anything on that pole.
The postman has landed in the clink
for throwing the maiI in Killick-Claw Harbor.
He said he had too much to deliver,
and folks could take a dip and help themselves.
Guess it helps if you can swim!"
This is professional stuff. How am I supposed to write this?
You can't. You'll get it wrong.
Don't you talk to your father like that! Of course he can do it.
Petal says Dad never gets anything right
Yeah, well, it'll work out.
Hello. You must be Quoyle.
B. Beaufield Nutbeem. I head up the Foreign News Department.
He steals every story off that goddamn shortwave.
Which Tert takes the liberty of rewriting in his own mystical tongue.
Only to save you from charges of plagiarism!
Mr. Billy Pretty, an old fish dog and local landmark.
Edits the Home News Page... poems, baby photos, household tips.
There's your desk.
Is there a computer?
D'ya see one?
No. I see everyone else...
Keen observational powers.
I can see why Jack snatched ya off the job market.
Quoyle, you lead a charmed life.
Two minutes on the job, and you got your first car wreck.
As far as I can tell, the site is really fresh...
10, 15 minutes at the most.
You got two victims: One male, one female.
Not one vital sign between 'em.
Rate of speed we estimate at 65, so there's nothing unlawful here.
Not a whole lot you can do when a moose decides to get in your way.
The driver's chest was probably crushed
before the car hit the water, so that's a mercy.
And, out of season, a moose that size is a gift really,
when you think about it.
Billy, I suppose we could split it four ways.
He's new, is he?
It's wrecks like that that sells papers.
Jack knows his readers.
Mind you, there's more people under these waters
than are killed on the roads.
You'll want to get yourself a nice little boat before long.
I don't want to think about a boat right now.
Who's that?
Why?
I've seen her around. She's very tall.
She's got good posture.
It was grief that caused her boy to be not right.
She was carrying him when her husband was drowned at sea.
Like I was saying, there's more life lost that way.
How's your car wreck comin'
If I wanted "War and Peace", I would have hired William Shakespeare.
The policeman ate breakfast at the Codcake Diner
before arriving at the accident scene?
Yes?
Your spelling is fine, and I've seen plenty worse grammar.
But finding the center, the beatin' heart of your story...
that's what makes a reporter.
Start by making up headlines. Short, punchy. Dramatic.
Out there, what do you see? Tell me the headline.
"Horizon Fills With Dark Clouds."
"Lmminent Storm Threatens Village!"
What if no storm comes?
"Village Spared From Deadly Storm!"
How was your first day?
What's all this?
We can't fix up the house proper on a journalist's wages. So I've un-retired.
From what?
Boat upholstery. All us Quoyles have a feeling for boats.
Who's this?
Dennis Buggit, master carpenter.
Only till I get me lobster license. I'm a fisherman in me soul.
Buggit, huh? Any relation to my boss down at the Gammy Bird?
Yeah. My dad.
Tomorrow I'll run 2x4's under your second story.
So I wouldn't sleep upstairs tonight,
'less you wanna wake up downstairs with a thud.
What is it?
A ghost. The window.
A skinny ghost. And a white dog.
I didn't dream it. Don't say I did.
I won't, sweetheart.
Excuse me...
- this is our first day at school... - I don't like these kids.
- She's in the after-school... - They're boring!
Boring!
That's enough.
I'm sorry. She's not usually like this.
Not usually like what?
I hate going to new places where I don't know anybody.
I don't know anybody.
What's wrong with him?
Bunny, there is nothing wrong with him.
This is Herry. When he was being born, he didn't get enough air to breathe.
That makes him a little slower than most people. What's your name?
Bunny.
A bunny rabbit.
That's what my mother calls me.
Is Mommy at work now?
She's asleep with the angels.
I am a Bunny Rabbit.
You certainly are.
Which of those women are in charge here?
Neither of them. They're just moms.
Somebody oughta pay more attention to them.
Look, there's scissors on the ground...
Don't you think somebody oughta be supervising them?
Better get back to work. Supervising and all.
I'm Wavey Prowse, I run the place.
They are having entirely too much fun,
aren't they? It's a constant problem here.
Headline:
"Bumbling Dad Humiliated at Daycare."
C'mon over, Quoyle!
You've been to the harbormaster's.
Boats in, boats out.
Not exactly the stuff of legends.
Sometimes there's a story behind the story.
What can I do you for?
I'll have whatever they're having.
- What are you having? - Squid burger. It's good.
Have you got yourself a boat yet?
No.
Y'oughta get Alvin Yark to build you one. Or you could buy Nutbeem's.
I built a Chinese junk. Sailed it up from BraziI.
I missed Manhattan by a mile or so,
and got stranded here when I shipwrecked by Gaze Island.
I've almost finished my repairs. I'll be sailing away soon.
She's ugly. And the only thing I've ever loved.
Your story tugs at me bladder.
Excuse me.
What is it between those two?
First thing: You have to understand about the curse.
Jack Buggit's father, his grandfather,
his great-grandfather... all died at sea.
Second thing: Jack is sensitive. Especially about the sea.
Sensitive. It's what they call people around here who... know things.
So Dennis is forbidden the sea.
But being free, Newfie, and 21, he goes anyway.
- And that's enough...? - Death storm.
A massive wave cracks her hull amidships, starboard to port.
Men go in the water. Dennis is lost.
After a week,
they come to Jack and tell him the search is to be called off.
He stands like a stone. Then he turns, quick, and says...
"He's alive.
And I know where."
So he goes out to sea, alone, in just a skiff...
and finds Dennis.
Can you guess the odds? Finds him. Both arms broken, 99% dead.
The boy comes to.
Jack says, "If you ever step foot in a boat again...
I'll drown you myself."
And do you know what Dennis said?
Say it fast.
"All fishing licenses are spoken for, I'd appreciate you giving me yours."
Jack looked in his eyes. They never spoke again.
Ya got the Shipping News written up yet?
There's nothin' here.
Boats in, boats out. What else is there?
If I knew, I'd write it myself.
I took a chance on ya, Quoyle... don't let me down.
Excuse me. Do I know you?
I work for the local paper. I do the Shipping News.
Is this your boat?
That's a boat. This is a Botterjacht.
She was built for Hitler. He was the original owner.
I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions.
The finest botterjacht ever built in Holland.
Tell him what happened in Hurricane Bob.
And she's incredibly heavy... 40 tons of solid oak.
Tell him!
She broke three of her moorings and pounded six expensive boats to rubble.
WHAMM!
Now tell him who let our insurance lapse.
It took six very expensive lawyers to weasel us out of it.
An inch from bankruptcy.
Moral of story? When you marry a tour guide,
keep his authority to mixing the drinks.
Did I come at a bad time?
Yeah. Ten years ago would've been better.
"Wife Fires Artillery On Hitler's Boat."
- Hi. - Hi.
You guys need a ride?
Thanks, but Herry likes to walk.
Well, it's a nice day for a walk.
Mr. Quoyle, about the other day. I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot.
No, I was way off base.
I admire anybody that works with kids. That's the hardest job in the world.
I'm a journalist myself.
Really? Have you seen our local paper?
Strictly fish wrap.
What?
I'm the new reporter there.
No... l'm sure that'll be...
Good luck to you.
Thank you very much. It was nice to see you again.
Dennis?
What are you doing?
She's boring.
How was Bunny when you picked her up from daycare?
Alright. A little snotty.
What's that?
Robert Burns.
Someone gave that to you?
Someone that you're missing.
Six years ago today. Leukemia.
We weren't married.
But that's a technicality.
Is that your boat?
Yeah, I just bought 'er.
Why?
- Well, she's a speed boat. - It's a shit boat.
A wallowing cockeyed bastard that'll sink in a bathtub.
Makes you cry to look at her.
When you're serious, I'll take you to Alvin Yark.
He'll make ya a sweet little Rodney.
You don't have the sense God gave a doughnut, do ya?
I'm goin' home.
Best you can do is bury it... some dark night.
What in hell is this?
Hitler's Barge...?
That's a vessel in port. It goes with the Shipping News.
What about the motorcycle accident?
I'm still working on that. I just think this is a better story.
You didn't do the one that Jack wanted you to do,
and you did one he don't know you did!
This is worse than yer boat.
If Jack even sniffs this, he'll cut you up for lobster bait.
I think I'll run it.
Hey, Bunny.
Shh! I'm reading.
He thinks I know how.
Go on. Get the pig.
- See you tomorrow. - Bye, Sarah. Bye, Patrick.
Could you hold these rods together for me?
Hold them flush against each other.
Be careful, honey.
- I wanna see if it can fly! - Not in the house.
Throw it up in the air, high as you can, and count till it comes down.
One, two, three, four, five.
Have you been to flight school?
Not really.
Aunt!
Guess what?
This is my assistant, Mavis Bangs.
Did you read my article on the Hitler Boat?
What?
Silver and Bayonet Melville were clients of mine.
The jerks pulled anchor last night
without payin' a penny for all the work we did for 'em.
You find out where they're to, we'll give you the Pulitzer.
What, you make juju beads out of lobster feelers?
Where do you export these?
If you're gonna shanghai me office, Tert, you'd best conceal the evidence.
This "Hitler Boat"... did you assign it?
Nope, sir. It wasn't my idea.
Get me Quoyle.
He wants you.
Have a seat.
I got four phone calls last night about the Hitler Boat.
People enjoyed it. Mrs. Buggit liked it.
'Course, you don't know nothin' about boats, but that's entertainin' too.
So, I'm giving you a weekly column.
A story about a different boat every week.
Human stuff. Who owned the boat,
who lived and died on her, who drowned, who was saved.
Who lost his fortune. Who had his heart broke.
You follow?
Order this boy a new computer.
And buy him a real one, not one of them Japan clones.
Mr. Buggit... I don't know what to say...
Did I not tell you my name is Jack?
Jack.
IBM, please.
Get back to your work.
IBM.
"Lumbering Idiot Stuns Crowd...
...For a Change."
Herry Prowse! Look how well your kite is doing!
Are you making it dance with your thoughts?
Your kite is doing so much better than Mr. Quoyle's!
Do you think Bunny's strange?
I mean, mentally.
The Skinny Ghost? With the White Dog?
She told you about that?
Maybe she's sensitive. The way some folks are around here.
What about the necklaces? Do you know how many she makes?
And I found her bashing her baby doll's brains out with a hammer.
A baby doll doesn't have brains. It's a toy.
She's saving a room for her mother. Did she tell you that?
Is she strange? Is she okay? If you had to take a guess.
That little girl's the only friend my son ever had.
So she's strange, you bet.
She crashed!
Alright. There you go.
Do you know how he died?
My husband?
It was a calm night when Herold took the boat out.
There was no sign of any storm.
Storms can be sudden around here.
He wasn't the only one whose boat went down.
It's four years ago.
And it's yesterday.
Did I blow it, or can you still be my friend?
Your friend. Sure.
Is this yours?
The ghost brought it.
And then he ran away.
The skinny ghost with the white dog?
Don't say I dreamed it.
You'll get the hang of it. Now coax her a wee bit to starboard.
That a boy. You're a Quoyle... the sea water in your veins.
How are things with your girl?
Bunny's still adjusting, I think.
No, I was talking about Wavey Prowse.
Sorry... sorry!
Wavey and I are just friends.
Fine. You don't have to drown me over it?
This is where I grew up. My poor old father, there.
And that's where your house stood.
Before they dragged it across the ice.
Yes, sir. Before they was driven away.
Driven away by what?
You never knew?
Ah, well... it's neither here nor there, right?
Point is they made a new place for themselves.
Driven away by what?
That's old stuff.
It's in my blood. You ought to be able to tell me.
Well, they come to Gaze Island centuries ago.
The old Quoyles were wrackers. Pirates, sort of.
You see them cairns?
Fires used to burn in them to guide the ships at sea, like lighthouses.
The Quoyles would move the fires... to fool the ships.
Lure them into the rocks so the Quoyles could grab their loot.
They was a savage lot, the old Quoyles.
Then they went too far one day. They nailed a man to a tree.
And they cut off his nose to draw the nippers and flies that ate him alive.
And that's when the Quoyles was given their walking papers.
Jesus.
There's still an old Quoyle down in one of these coves somewhere.
They say he slept with his wife after she was dead.
Anything else I should know?
That about covers it.
When the knitting pins you is abreast...
pull the tiller to the west.
Behind the pins you must steer...
till the old man's shoe it does appear.
Show me that necklace.
If you make the loops bigger you don't have to make so many.
Good morning.
Can I talk to you for a minute?
Where's that chair from?
Excuse me?
The chair you're sitting in. Where'd you get it?
It's not from around here, right? It's foreign, exotic.
I don't want pirate's loot in this home.
Billy Pretty told me all about it.
It's a good thing somebody finally did.
I don't believe in dwelling in the past.
No? Then what are we doing here?
Making a future.
Well, well, well... if it ain't the second coming of the Quoyles.
Taking a long and hearty meal break, I can't help but notice.
Hope you got a good idea for your next story.
I'd hate for Jack to think it was just beginner's luck.
Let the man digest.
If I was the esteemed author of the shipping news column...
I'd pick up the oiI field story.
Petro dollars. Golden flood of jobs.
You write about that, I'll put it right there on the front page.
Thank you for stopping by, Tert.
Yeah, thanks, Tert.
What was that all about?
He owns Mobile OiI. Ten shares.
What about your column?
What about it?
You said you'd read it to me.
I will, once the game is done.
"There's a 1904 photo hung in the Killick-Claw Library."
"Eight schooners heading out to the fishing grounds."
"Their sails are white and beautiful."
"But nowadays you're just as likely to see
a big black shape of an oiI tanker."
"Like the ruptured Golden Goose."
"Last week it leaked 14,000 tons of crude..."
"onto the seabirds, fish and boats at Cape Despond."
"There will be more and more tankers."
They will get old and corroded and their tanks will split."
"And there will be less fish, and less fishermen."
"Nobody hangs a picture of an oiI tanker on their wall, do they?"
What do you think?
I think when Tert Card sees it...
he'll stay up nights thinking of cheap shots to pay you back.
I think he won't stop untiI you're fired.
I think I haven't been so proud of a friend...
since I don't know when.
What do you think? Pretty impressive, huh?
Like I said, nobody hangs one of those.
Your column's front page stuff. Only now it's more a caption.
"More than three thousand tankers proudly ride the world's seas."
"Even the biggest take advantage of
Newfoundland's deepwater ports and refineries."
Spelled it all perfect so as not to embarrass you.
"OiI and Newfoundland go together like ham and eggs."
"And like ham and eggs they'll nourish us in the coming years."
Even put your name on it.
"Let's all hang a picture of an oiI tanker on our wall."
A man of your principles...
I understand the only honorable course is resignation.
If you're off to see Jack Buggit, you'll have to swim.
I run the Gammy Bird, every inch of it. Which he'd have to do without me.
And if you think he's gonna choose you over fishing,
then you're dumber than a doughnut.
If that's possible.
For Christ sakes, Quoyle, shut your motor.
What's the emergency. Can't it wait till I'm done fishing?
It's about my column. Card printed it not the way I wrote it.
So?
Do you disapprove of how Card runs my newspaper?
Enough to lose your job?
Yes or no?
Yes.
So, this is what Jack and I think.
We want to run Quoyle's wrong headed oiI spill story because controversy...
sells papers. And papers sells ads.
But the oiI tanker picture stays.
You should've seen Tert's face. It was a beautiful thing.
That's alright, I've seen it.
Let's see what tonight's special is.
How do you feel about ordering to go?
You ever had that before?
- No, what is it? - Seal flipper pie.
It's made from the knuckle part of the flipper.
The slimey cartilage part.
It's good, though. A good choice, if you like that sort of thing.
Y'know, I'm really not all that hungry.
I just wanted to come and sit. I had a big lunch.
They say you're not a real Newfoundlander...
untiI you've had a piece of seal flipper pie.
- That's what they say? - Yeah, it is.
That's surprising.
I never eat it, myself.
You never eat this? This is horrible.
Here, I got you some real food.
Christ! I knowed somebody was out here.
Oh, for Christ's sake!
He's still burning off the fever.
Any feeling yet?
Little tingles.
You're lucky.
I'm fine.
I'll be ready to get back in that water in another 20, 30 years.
Do you know how close you were to dying?
Get my Uncle Alvin Yark to build you a proper boat.
And learn how to use it, okay?
Okay.
Good.
Were the eyes open, or closed?
Don't know. Just said it was a disembodied head.
What did the police have to say about it?
They're still working on it.
A little late to return the head to its owner, though.
Hello, nephew.
Police bulletin. "Mrs. Silver Melville was arrested early today..."
"in Lanai, Hawaii for the murder of her husbad..."
"socialite and racanteur Mr. Bayonet Melville."
"'He pushed me once too often," Mrs. Melville confessed."
"'So I finally pushed back.'"
Good for you, my dear.
He probably deserved it.
Don't get your hopes up.
You're the first man that ever cooked for me. You got a lot of leeway.
How are they?
They're both asleep. In Bunny's bed.
Should we trust them?
Here, let me do that.
Can you feel that? Through the bandage?
What?
Your husband... he never cooked you a meal?
Why are we talking about my husband?
Because I understand.
You said it's four years ago and it's yesterday.
I understand that.
My husband's not who we're talking about, right?
I'll go get Herry. He wouldn't like waking up in a strange bed.
Who are you?
I tied magic in these knots... to protect you from the house
No good ever come from the old place. Never.
You have no business in the Quoyle house.
I'll get you out of there.
But I am a Quoyle.
A Quoyle?
I was a Quoyle... before you was anything.
Leave the house.
Tell Agnis hello...
from Cousin Nolan.
You know why Agnis come back?
To show she ain't afraid of the place no more.
I know what she's done.
She got rid of the baby she was carrying. What could she do?
She was only twelve.
And it was her own brother that done it to her.
Does that belong to you?
Sorry.
There's still hot water in the kettle if you want some tea.
I've started looking for a place for me and Bunny.
You sure you're going to be okay at your shop?
I said I would, didn't I?
I think Silver Melville was right to chop her husband's head off.
He probably deserved it.
I think more women should do what she did.
Maybe some should've done it to their own brother.
My father.
Cousin Nolan dropped by last night.
I always thought if anyone knew I'd be turned to stone.
Shit!
Tea is a good drink.
It'll keep you going.
When someone hurts you that much...
how do you...
Does it ever go away?
Is it possible?
Her name was Irene. The love of my life.
You look happy.
So, yeah... it is possible.
Agnis tells me we got to move for the winter.
It'll be a three hour drive from here to the point. All the ice.
Me and Bunny are gonna have to find a room in town somewhere.
I'll have the usual, please. Thank you.
If it's a place to stay you need you can have my trailer.
The timing's perfect.
What are you talking about?
My boat's ready. If I stay here any longer I might begin to like the place.
I'm throwing myself a farewell party on Saturday.
Departure to follow Sunday.
A rootless traitor.
Regrets soon after, no doubt.
Quoyle of the North.
Have you and Wavey done the dirty yet?
She's a grieving widow.
Grieving for Herrold Prowse? Oh, that's a good one.
Let me tell you something about old Herrold Prowse.
It's like a party game in town...
to look at babies and see if they look like Herrod.
To Nutbeem!
We all love fucking Nutbeem, huh?
Let's us keep him here, then.
Got your chainsaw?
What's wrong?
I'm a Quoyle. I'm one of the Quoyles.
Pirates and looters and murderers.
My father raped his little sister.
And then he taught me how to swim.
Stop that. Jesus, you smell like a brewery.
Stop it!
Sorry, Herry.
I'm sorry, Petal. I'm so sorry.
I meant Wavey.
Good. I feel much better.
When were you going to tell me about your fucked up marriage?
I'm scrambling eggs. You gonna be able to eat?
No.
Listen, I'm...
Maybe I should just go.
You forget where the door is?
He ran off to Winnipeg with some little bitch barely out of high school.
Is that fucked up enough for you?
Herrold, my husband, he didn't die.
Not that he didn't deserve to.
He left me when I was eight months pregnant and no good to him in bed.
So I took his 15-footer into the bay, cracked the hull with a hatchet...
and sunk her. And pretended he was drowned.
And played the grieving widow. And packed my bags to leave town.
But then a funny thing happened. All these folk I grew up with...
they put their hearts around me and Herry so we wouldn't be alone.
And I just couldn't leave.
I'm sorry, Wavey.
You're always sorry.
You're looking dishy, Quoyle.
I'm afraid my offer to let you stay in my trailer will have to be retracted.
Sorry about that and your boat.
I'm some disgusted with the human race.
I never would have made it. Storms would've blown me to bits.
You boys saved my life, I imagine.
I've gathered up my savings and I'm flying back to BraziI.
Where the water is swimming pool green.
You and Bunny can stay with the wife and me.
To BraziI.
We could stay with Aunt Agnis at her shop.
There's barely enough room there for myself.
- You'll like it at Dennis' house. - No, I won't.
- Welcome, weary travelers. - Our home is your home.
C'mon in, sweetie. I made a big seal flipper pie.
- What's that? - Weather light. Storm coming.
Big one.
The house. The house.
What is it, Quoyle? What?
It's gone.
The green house is gone.
I didn't dream it.
Don't say I did.
Hi, Mom. Some storm, eh?
Yes. Yes, of course.
What's a wake?
It's to say goodbye.
Mr. Buggit is sleeping with the angels.
Dennis!
Yeah, I'm still looking for my dad's navy medal.
I found it.
Mom.
I found it... in his desk, at the office.
Would you write something for The Gammy Bird about Jack?
Yes, I'll try.
Jack is alright now.
You all know we are only passing by.
We walk over these stones a few times.
Our boats saiI for a little while on the waves...
and then they have to sink.
Jack knew that better than anyone. Right, Jack? Yes, boy.
He's awake!
Get a doctor!
Come here, son. I beat the curse. The fishing license is yours.
Sweetheart, you ready?
I want to have a wake for Petal.
Why didn't we have a wake? Why didn't we wake her up?
It worked for him.
Honey, Mr. Buggit wasn't really... It's more like he was in a coma.
From the cold water. It's like he was sleeping.
Petal was asleep.
You said she was asleep with the angels.
I know what I said, but she's not sleeping.
I know what I said. Listen to me...
I was too scared to tell you the truth.
Petal is dead.
And you know that. I know you know it.
Is it because of me?
That she drove away.
Why would you say that?
Because I'm boring.
No, honey, it's not because of you.
And you are anything but boring.
You believe me, don't you?
You still don't believe me. Do you?
About the house.
I told you so.
It's alright.
Worse things have happened. To both of us.
Maybe one day we'll build a summer house out here?
Summer.
Do they have summer here?
You'll know it's summer when the partridge berries are out.
And we can make partridge berry duff and sweet berry okie.
Will you show me how?
I will, yeah. I will.
There are still so many things I don't know.
If a piece of knotted string can unleash the wind...
and if a drowned man can awaken...
then I believe a broken man can heal.
Headline: "Deadly Storm Takes House."
"Leaves Excellent View."