Ghost Story

She's dead.

She's dead.

I don't believe it! No pulse.

There's no pulse! No pulse! No...

You... She's got no pulse.

A little after midnight,

the old caretaker was awakened by a terrible sound,

whimpering pitifully.

The sound came again... faintly.

Only this time, he was sure it was human.

The graveyard was silent...

except for the steady padding of his feet...

as he went around the tombstones.

"Hello? Is someone there? Someone?"

But there was nothing. No one.

As he stood there, scratching his head,

feeling something of a damn fool,

he happened to look down.

And there at his feet,

someone had been buried...

that very afternoon.

The grave had been disturbed.

The soil was upset, and the cross lay on its side.

"Respect,” he muttered,

sure now that he was the butt of a practical joke.

So he smoothed out the soil...

and set the cross back upright at the head of the grave,

and then he went back to his bed.

But outside, in the graveyard,

in the wind,

there was still a faint wisp of sound,

almost like a song.

"Alive. Still alive!”

Aah!

"Alive."

God.

Marvelous story.

Marvelous.

I think that was the worst shocker we've had in years.

Damn near scared the pants off me, I'll tell you.

Well, I don't know about you,

but I could do with another brandy.

Hear, hear. Maybe a good cigar.

I've got to go to bed.

- No brandy? - I haven't been sleeping well lately.

Besides, it's late, and it's getting cold.

- And Milly'll be waitin' up to... - Pour some hot chocolate down me.

Come on. I'll drive you home, Doc.

You know, mark my words, 10 years from now,

80% of the young men of this country...

will be wearing ties only to weddings...

and... and to funerals too, perhaps.

I'd feel as if I was naked.

Well, it's time we all went home. Come on, Doc.

You look terrible. Are you sleeping all right?

- Damn it to hell. - Are you?

Gentlemen, before you go,

I would like to propose a toast...

to us, Chowder Society.

Chowder Society.

- The Chowder Society. - The Chowder Society.

The Chowder Society.

- Who are you? - Sleeping.

- Who are you? - Woke me.

Tell me.

David.

- Who are you? - You know.

I know?

I am you.

No.

Cold.

What are you?

Donnie? Come home, Donnie.

There's been a terrible accident in New York.

Your brother is... dead, Son.

Come home right away.

Now arriving at Gate 3...

from New York, Hartford and Springfield.

Gate 3 from New York,

Be careful now.

Hartford and Springfield.

Departing for Montreal... Hello, Dad.

Montpelier will be departing...

Is this all you have?

I'm fine.

Look at you.

I'm okay, Dad.

Montpelier, your gate is four.

Break out the snowmobiles, boys and girls.

Two inches of that lovely white stuff already on the ground...

and a massive cold front heading our way.

No question about it.

Talkin' about it might help.

Right.

How's the writing coming?

I've had other things on my mind.

- You teaching? - Didn't finish out the term.

Oh, Don.

So, what do you think happened to him, Dad?

- It was an accident. - Is that what you told everybody?

- What, that he fell? - That's what they said.

I don't give a damn what anybody said!

I know something happened to him in New York.

You're shoutin'.

Jesus Christ, Dad!

I'm telling you something happened to him!

- I think he may have been murdered! - Stop I!

I knew the girl he was gonna marry.

I slept with her, Dad. Do you hear me?

I slept with her.

You come here looking like God knows what,

your brother not even in his grave yet...

Dad...

And you start carrying on about having sex with his fiancée.

Dad!

Isn't it about time you straightened out?

Somehow.

Dad.

I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.

Thy rod and thy staff...

Thou preparest a table...

David.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.

David.

Don.

Oh. I... I didn't know where I was for a moment.

You were havin' a bad dream.

Lord, was I ever.

Think I'll turn in.

- Good night. - I...

Well, you're all I have left now, you know.

Uh, maybe...

Uh, maybe if the weather lets up,

you and I can go fishin' one day.

I-I'd like that.

Me too.

Well, stay around a few days

and help your old man out with a few things.

Whatever you say. Sure.

Don't forget to lock up, will you, kiddo?

Wake up. Wake up!

- No! - Ricky, for God's sake!

Stella.

Thank God.

- Wow. - Here.

You poor darling.

- Better? - Yeah.

Do you wanna tell me about it?

No, no, no.

Those gruesome stories you tell each other.

It's a wonder you can sleep at all.

What are you old fools up to?

Black magic.

Oh, that.

Dad?

Stop!

Dad? Dad, you okay?

Fine. Fine.

You sure?

It was... It was just a dream.

Are you sure?

Morning, Mr. Mayor.

Is everything okay?

The wife and I, we're sorry about your loss.

Terrible thing.

David!

David!

David!

David!

David!

David!

What the hell is he...

Ned?

Ned.

Ned!?

Holy shit.

Thank God you're back. Everyone's been calling.

A ninny! So are the two of you...

if you keep believing such twaddle.

He saw him!

Edward was doing something on that bridge.

I can't imagine what, but something. He was doing something.

- He was walking along... - I have another idea.

We've got to help the boy.

You talk as if he was 12 years old.

I'm sure Edward left him well provided for.

Why don't you tell him how grateful he should be?

Take it easy now.

To know a man over 50 years,

you... you'd think you knew what he was capable of.

You're not doing your blood pressure any good.

My blood?

Mr. James, it's Joel Brenner over at the Urbanite.

Wants to know if you'll write something about the mayor

for the paper.

- Ricky, you take care of it. - What shall I say?

My God! He went off the bridge.

Say whatever you damn please.

- I can't believe it. - Come on, come on. You better...

- I can't believe it! - Come on. You better go home now.