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Bradbury Thirteen 84-04-23 (04) There Was an Old Woman
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Bradbury Thirteen 84-04-23 (04) There Was an Old Woman
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Aunt Tildy
Mmm. Oh. Whatcha eating? The new banana split cookie from AM PM all freshly baked with real butter with banana, chocolate and strawberry flavors. Wow, that sounds amazing. Can I have a bite? I'm sorry, but no. But you can't split the banana split. Not even a little. Not even a crumb. What if. No, please. Mine. When it's too legit to split. That's cravenience. Get a three pack for 99 cents with our app AMPM. Too much good stuff. Plus tax where applicable. Prices and participation may vary. Terms and conditions apply. This is Ray Bradbury. Join me for the next 30 minutes on a tour through time and space. Come along to the far future. Follow me into a strange past with stories that almost could be or might have been real or unreal. This is Bradbury 13. It was the quiet and restful time of the day. Silence just the bone. Porcelain flowered clock on the mantel chiming three ticking away, busy as termites in wood. Just the old room smelling of polished mahogany and oiled leather. In the Morris chair, books sitting stiff on the shelves, the dark young man smiled from the antique rocker. He listened patiently, politely as Aunt Tildy chatted away while four men dressed in black stood in the hall with the wicker basket waiting. Ray Bradbury's. There was an old woman. No, there's no leaf arguing about it. I got my mind fixed on that subject. So run along now with your silly wicker basket. Scoot. No nevermind's about tall dark gentlemen with fangled ideas. Well, you got in mind to talk to me. Well, you can talk, but me time. I hope you don't mind if I pour myself some coffee. I'll fetch some from the stove. It's the only thing that keeps me going. Some days been more polite I'd offered you some, but you jump in here high and mighty. Never rapped on the door or nothing. Oh, land sight. You think you own the place. Oh, there. Nice and hot. Don't just stand there wearing out the floor. Sit down with ya. That's an antique chair, so be gentle. Y' all settled now? About that wicker basket in the hall. Now don't go a giving me that look. You know what I'm talking on. This past six feet long. And by the look of it, it ain't built for laundry. And those four men you walked in with, you don't need them carrying that basket. Why, it's light as thistles. Couldn't weigh more than a couple of pounds. Now hold it. What are you giving me such a look for? Something in Your face tells me you don't think it'll be so light after a while. You don't know what you're saying. Where have I seen a wicker basket like that before? Seems to me it was only a couple of years ago. It seems to me. I remember it was when Mrs. Dower passed away. Next door. They brought it. So that's what you're up to. Thought you was working so to sell me something. Oh, you just sit there until my little Emily trounces home from college this afternoon. She'll come by after her classes. I wrote her note last week. Not admitting, of course, that I wasn't feeling quite ripe and furred, but sort of hinting I want to see her again. Been a good many weeks now, her living in New York and all. Now, what are you looking at so funny? You think I'm tired? Well, I'm not. I'm not tired a bit. Well, you're half closing your eyes and resting yourself trying to say to me. Oh, and I like to rest, too. Wouldn't it be grand to finally sit back and rest and rest? Oh, great sons of Goshen on Gilberry Dyke. Why, I got a hundred comforters, 200 sweaters and 600 pot holders in these fingers yet no matter. They're skinny. Have some coffee with me. And let me tell you about Emily. My sweet, fair child. Sugar? No, I suppose not. There I well remember the day her mother died 20 years ago, leaving Emily to my house. And that's why I'm mad at you and your wickers and such goings on. Whoever heard of people dying for any good cause? Young man, I don't like it. Why, I remember 25 years back, my own father's voice trembling in the late afternoon. Hilly, whatcha gonna do in life? I don't know what you mean, Papa. The way you act. Well, men don't pay you much mind. Oh, Papa, you kiss and skedaddle. You run so fast they'll never catch you. Why don't you settle down and get yourself married, raise some children and give me some grandkids to play with in my old age. I guess I just like laughing and playing and singing too much to go and get married. I'm not the marrying kind. Why? And Blaze is not? I don't rightly know. I guess I just can't seem to find a man with my philosophy. Papa, what philosophy is that? That death is ridiculous. It run off with Mama when we needed a most. You call that intelligent? It can't cheat death. Tildy, I'M starting my own philosophy here and now. Why, it's silly. People live a couple years, then they're shoved like wet seeds in a hole in the ground. But nothing sprouts. What good do they do? Lay there a million years helping no one. They turn into old clothes and bleached white bones. Most of them fine, nice, neat people. At least trying to be. Papa. Papa. Papa. Papa. Papa. Papa. Papa wasn't listening to me anymore. He bleached out, faded away like an old photo left lying in the sun. I tried my darndest to talk him out of it, but he passed on anyway. I left then. I couldn't stay on once he was cold. Cause his coldness spoilt my whole philosophy. I didn't even go to the funeral. I didn't do nothing. Till I set up this antique shop of mine in this old house and lived alone for years. That is, till I took in Emily. Her mama was an old friend of mine. And I promised I'd look after Emily when she died. But I didn't want to take her in. And I'll tell you the reason. Emily believes in dying and I don't. Oh, don't shake your head so. It's all the gospel truth. I'm telling you. Emily was the first to live in this house with me in all these years and never got married. Feared the idea of living with a man 20, 30 years, then have him up and die on me. It had shake my convictions like a house of cards. Shied off from the whole world. Screamed at people if they so much as mentioned death. Well, from that day to this, I've only played my old phonograph records. These right here. You see, my favorite was all this roaming in the gloaming. Roaming in the gloaming. Da da da da da da da. But that wore out some time ago. There, let me put this on. Ain't that something? What's that? 3 o'? Clock? What? Wasn't it 3 o' clock just five minutes ago? I love that old clock of mine. Old bone white clock with the gold angels round the face. Well, you just gonna sit there, young man? All right. Well, then you won't mind if I take a little cat nap. Now, don't you stir off that chair. Just gonna close my eyes for a spell. That's right. Just a spell. Nice and quiet and restful time of the day. It's quiet. Just the phonograph and the clock ticking away. Busy as a bee. Ah, so nice night. You aren't getting up from that chair, are you, mister? Oh, you better not. I got one eye open for you. Yes, indeed I have. Oh, so feathery. The drowsy, the deep. Oh, it's underwater almost. Oh, so nice. Who's moving around in the dark with my eyes closed? Who's that kissing my cheek? You, Emily? Oh, no, no. I guess it was my thoughts. Only dreaming. Land. Yes, that's it. Drift it off. What'd you say? Oh, wait. I'll put on my glasses there. What are you doing by the door, young man? Leaving so soon? Had to give up, didn't you? Couldn't convince me. No, sir. I'm mule stubborn. Never get me free of this house. So don't bother coming back to try. What's that? Have no intention of coming back, ever. Well, fine. I always told Papa I'd win. Why, I'll knit in this window the next thousand years. They'll have to chew the boards down around me to get me out. Quit looking like the cat that ate the bird and get that old fool wicker basket out of here. That's it. Take it out the door. What you struggling with that wicker for? It ain't heavy. Unless you. Did you steal my antiques while I was resting? You got my books in there, McLarks? What have you got in that wicker? Don't you boys hear me, young man? What, me Curious John? No, I don't want to look inside. Not me. Go on, get out, all of you. All of you. Oh, there, that's better. Gone. Darn fool men with their maggoty ideas. Never mind's about the wicker. They stole something. They're welcome to it. Long as they leave me alone. Here comes Emily, home from college. About time. Such a lovely girl. Look how she walks up those steps. Oh, but land, she looks pale and funny today, walking so slow. Wonder why looks worried. She does, poor girl. Oh, I'll fix some coffee and a tray of cookies. Emily. Emily, I've been waiting for you. If there was a darnest fool man here with a wicker trying to sell me something you didn't want. Oh, I'm glad your home makes it feel right cozy. Emily, what's wrong? No. Stop staring. Here, I'll bring you a cup of coffee. No. Well, Emily. No. Emily, why are you backing away from me? Child, child, you're going crazy that way. Emily, get up off that floor. You broke my favorite face. Actants are crazy. And stop cringing, child. I won't hurt you. One thing, it's another. Emily, what's wrong, child? Oh, child. Here, here, Sip Some water. Sip it, Emily. Sip it. Sip it. That's it. That's it. That's it. Aunt Tildy. Aunt Tildy. Aunt Tildy. Stop that. Oh, I hated to slap you, child, but what ails you? You're not here, Aunt Tildy. You're dead. What a fool. No, she can't be here. Land of Goshen. Emily. Here, give me your hand. Touch me. Go on. I can't. Just touch me like this. See? A great day in the morning. It passed clean through me. See that feather? That sneak thief. That dark haired fiend. He stole it. He toted it away like a thief of the night while I wasn't looking. Who? Who stole it? He did. He did. Why? Oh, child, get up. I need you. But you're gone. A part of me's here. I. Harry. That'll have to do for a bit. Fetch my bonnet. I'm scared. Certainly not of me. Yes. I'm no spook. You know me most of your life. This is no time to snivel, sob, Fetch up on your heels or I'll slap you crack across your nose. Come on now. That's it. Get hold of yourself, girl. I'm trying. I just never had much to do with a dead person before. Stop that kind of talk, you hear? Who was it that raised you up from a pup? Me, that's who. So don't stand there trying to decide which way you're gonna bolt. Just help me. How? Where's your car? Out in the driveway in front of the garage. Good. Now come on, get your purse. Now, which way's the mortuary? It's that way. Well, we'll have to hurry. What are you gonna do, Aunt Tilby? Do? Why, get my boat body back, of course. Get my body back. Come on now, let's go. Can't you drive a little faster? I'm trying. Well, that's better. Now hurry, child, for they squirt juices in my body and dice and cube it the way them snickety morticians have a habit of doing. They cut and sew it so it ain't no good to no one. Where. It's the road, child. We want to harm no one else. Give them morticians more business, do we? Oh, Auntie. Auntie, let me stop. Don't make me drive. It won't do any good. Of course it will. You'll see. I ain't never giving up and I won't start. Now. There. There's a mortuary. Pull up to the curb. Emily. What? Look there, child. Those four Men are unloading that wicker from the hearse. Oh, you. You wait here, Emily. Won't take long. You there, put that basket down. Step aside, lady. We're doing our job. That's my body tucked in there. I wouldn't know anything about that. Open the door, Al. Whatcha Coming through. Not so fast, buster. Hey, lady, you can't come in here. I go where my body goes. Suit yourself, lady, I. Okay, Al, let's set her down here. Easy with that. Oh, my land. Look at all this paraphernalia. Tubes and jars and knives. You ain't fixed on using so much as a toenail clipper on me, are you? Oh, good, it's arrived. And what are you smiling at, madam? This is no fit place for a gentlewoman. Well, I'm glad you feel that way. That's exactly what I tried to tell that dark clothed young man. What dark clothed young man? The one that came puddling around my house, that's who. No, one of that description works for us. But he came poking around with them four other fellers with a wicker. I'm afraid you're mistaken. Well, no matter. As you just said so intelligently, this is no place for a lady. I don't want me here. I want me home. Cooking ham for Sunday visitors. I got Emily to feed, sweaters to knit, clocks to wind. I am quite philosophical and philanthropical. No doubt, madam, but I have work to do. A body has arrived. You see, you put so much as a fingerprint on that body and I. I'm sorry, but. George, escort this lady out, please. Come on, lady, show me your backside. Going the other way. This way, lady. Come on. Don't you lay a hand on me. See, you can't budge me. I melt right through your hands. Amazing, isn't it? She slipped right through. It's a new talent I've developed. I want my body back. Madam. What do you mean, your body? Just what I said. Take a look for yourself. Very well. Open the lid, George. Now take a gander. Hmm. Ah. Well, this lady here is a relative of yours. A very dear relation. Be careful of her. A sister, perhaps? No, you fool. It's me. You hear me? Impossible. It can't be. Things like this don't happen. No, I'm afraid we have work to do. George, get help from the others and remove this lady. I can't work with a crank present. Get all the help you can. I won't budge. But you must. You're a lady. Too late for flattery. Come on down the hall. Leave me Be. How dare you. I've never been so mistreated in all my life. Come on. Just a little fun. You get your hands off. Slipped away. Please, ma', am, you can't stay here. This is where the body rests for the service tomorrow. Keep away from me. I'm sitting right here until I get what I want. You hear me? Hear. Hear. Hear. More respect, please. More respect. What is this? Oh, madam, may I help you? You may. How may I be of service? Please go in that room back there. Yes, and tell that eager young investigator that we're fiddling with my body. I'm a maiden, lady, and my moles and birthmarks and scars and other bric a brac including the turn of my ankle are my own secret. I don't want him prying and probing anything. I. I'm afraid I don't quite understand. Listen, mister. What's your name? Carrington. Mr. Carrington, he's got me in there on this table like a pigeon ready to be drawn and stuffed. He's got you. Go see for yourself. Very well. Excuse me for a few minutes while I check on this. You go right ahead and check. I'll sit right here and wait for you. And the rest of you, you keep your distance or I'll whop you with this paras. Well, it's me in that room, isn't it? You're making this very difficult for us. I am Saint Vitus in the morning. Looky here, Mr. Blood and Bones or whatever you're called. Carrington, you just tell that man back there we're already draining the blood from the corpse. What? Yes, yes, I assure you there's nothing to be done. Our mortician is also performing a brief autopsy to determine the cause of death. So you just go away now. He can do that. Only coroners are allowed to do that. Well, we sometimes allow a little. Oh, you march straight in and tell that cut him up to pump all that blue blood right back into that fine skinned body. And if he's taken anything out for him to attach it back so it will function properly and then turn that body fresh as paint into my keeping you here. There's nothing I can do. Well, there's something I can do. I can sit right here for the next 200 years, you listening? And every time any of your customers come by, I'll spit ectoplasm right. Squirt up their nostrils. You wouldn't do that. I would. You'd ruin our business. We'd have to close up. Yes, but in all fairness, a you Wouldn't force us out into the street to continue our services, would you? Oh, I wouldn't mind at all. In fact, here comes a customer number. No, no, no. Please, please. That's Mrs. Hawkins. She's come to visit her husband in the slumber room. Perfect. Watch this. Mrs. H. Stop. Stop. You win. You win. You can have your body back. Ah. Intact. Intact. No formaldehyde. No formaldehyde. Blood in it. Blood. Blood? Yes, blood. If only you'll take it and go. Fair enough. Fix her up and it's a deal. Well, don't just stand around, you mental incompetence. Fix her up, bring her out. Yes, sir. That's better. And be quick. I haven't got all day. Well, what took you so long? Easy with that wicker. Put it right here on the floor where I can step into it. Set it down, boys. Oh, Auntie, are you sure this is gonna work? Don't worry yourself. I'll soon be back with you, child. All of me, that is. Open the lid. Open it. Natural looking, isn't it? Of course, madam. Now I'll just step into it first. My finger. Feet. Legs. Backside. Arms. Head. Feels cold. Like granite. You're almost there. Try pushing harder. Hi, ma'. Am. Andy, become a line body. Raise up a bit. Now fold your legs. Good. Now feel. Feel. Yes, it's warm. Now move. Yes. Now stand up There. Now walk. She's walking. Now talk. Much obliged. Thank you. Thank you. I don't believe it. Come on, Emily. Come on, let's go home. Come in. Is it the man in black? No, Aunt Tildy, it's only me. Come in quick, child. And shut the door. Emily, I got a treat for you. Oh, what's that? Looky here. It's my autopsy scar. Not bad sewing for a man. I have some tea, dear. There Was an Old Woman was adapted from the story by Ray Bradbury. Featured in the cast were Ruth Hale, Nathan Hale, Kim Jensen, Tanya Neff, Bob Nelson, Dwayne Hyatt and Morgan White. Original music by Roger Hoffman and Greg Hansen. Production assistant was Patrick Mead. Associate producer was Jeff Raeder. Bradbury 13 was created, produced and directed by Mike McDonough. Executive producer was Dean Van Itert. This is Paul Free speaking. Ra.