Quiet Please - Don't Tell Me About Halloween

Clia, please.

Clia, please.

Clia, please.

Clia, please.

Clia, please.

A mutual broadcasting system presents Clia, please.

It is written and directed by Willis Cooper and features Dennis Chappell.

Clia, please. What tonight is called.

Don't tell me about Halloween.

Oh.

I'm going to kill my wife tonight, or maybe tomorrow night.

I mean, I'm going to kill one of my wives.

I prefer if something's going to happen to me that won't be good.

Well, Halloween's almost here.

Halloween's the headline.

I can't just have to be dead before Halloween.

On the trouble is, I'm not sure I'll recognize her when she shows up.

You are living in Salem, Massachusetts.

Thanks for the hanged all the witches.

No, they didn't bring them at the stake.

A lot of people think so, but they didn't.

They hanged them.

All except the man we told Giles Corey they pressed him to death.

Very unpleasant.

Well, it wasn't Salem, this particular Halloween that I met Candice.

It was dark up there on the hill with a yellow used to stand.

Dark and cold with a damp wind coming in off the sea.

With two little lights you can see in the dusk.

Only made it darker and lonelier and creepier up there.

I remember how I, children, as I started down the hill to town.

Then I remember how I jumped on something that looked like a black cat.

It was out of the shadows of my seat.

Without thinking I yelled, who's that?

My heart almost stopped beating because...

Well, good evening.

I've been all alone out there.

And then all of a sudden there was a woman standing beside me.

You're the first human being that's spoken with me tonight.

Who are you?

I'm Candice.

I, I don't know any Candice.

You didn't?

What'd you do now?

You got to scare me today.

Oh, I wouldn't do that to you.

What's your name?

Craig.

Do you like me, Craig?

What?

Well, I don't know what you look like.

I like you very much.

Well, what I...

Kiss me, Craig.

No.

Kiss me, I...

You know, you're going to be a very nice husband for me, Craig.

What do you mean?

I'm not going to hold you anymore.

When I say something's going to happen, it happens, Craig.

What?

I'm not.

When did you like to be rich, Craig, and have a beautiful wife?

I am beautiful.

You're sweet.

When did you like to be rich, and wise, and happy, and live forever?

When?

When did you cry?

Who the devil are you?

Oh, that's a very apt way of putting it, Craig.

Who are you?

I'm Kansas.

I just can't think of me.

I'm the witch they didn't hang, Craig.

Well, she was right.

I am rich.

Whenever I need money, which hasn't been for a long time now, I ask Kansas

when she comes to see me as Halloween time.

I am reasonably wise, I suppose.

I'm quite an authority on American history, quite well considered at the university here.

And while I can't say I've lived forever, I have lived two hundred and fifty-three years.

Now, that's right.

You see, I met Kansas on the hill above Salem in the year 1694.

Two years after cotton math and stuff, hanging wishes.

Yes, Kansas has kept your promise.

I remember the way she put it, standing up there in the early morning, watching the mist crawling on the ground.

You're not seeing now to another Halloween.

And I can't tell you what form I'll be in when I come to see you again.

But, if you see a strange bridge or a lost dog, or any strange being at your door come Halloween,

you say, who's that?

And if it so happens, the strange is me.

By then, I'll be home with him till the top floor, the morning.

And I remember I started to speak to ask questions, but she stopped me.

For the time's short now, my love.

And remember the way, and be all the future before us.

As long as I live, you will tell me.

And below a sun, where a rooster crowed, and I was standing alone on the hill.

And a yellow butterfly was rising in circles above my head, that watched it disappear into the first rays of the sun.

No, I didn't believe it either.

And yet, we were only two years away from the witchcraft trials, and whatever maybe said the day.

The belief in witches didn't die as quick a death as modern historians would have you believed.

I was there.

I know.

Beside, I had married a witch.

Halloween 1695, a straight dog there, and my doorstep shivering in the rain.

I don't like dogs.

I was about to poop the animal into the street when I caught a look at it.

Are you out? Who's that?

Well, it's about time.

I've been lying there on that doorstep, flinging in really ground without a stint on, and you stand there and look at me like some grateful.

Let me tell you something to put around him throughout the fire before I take my death of cold.

And I do believe you were going to chase me, too.

Where do I ever see you?

Yeah.

And this beer?

How was I to know?

Give me that quilt.

Oh, she was all contriteness and apologies in the moment.

And I can feel that slap alongside my chops from two and a half centuries ago.

And our first anniversary was a very close one.

I was rather glad I'd married a witch.

It had its drawbacks, though, despite wealth and growing wisdom.

People around me and Salem grew old, and I seem to stay the same age.

I moved away in the years when I moved away from Salem.

I moved away from Philadelphia.

I moved from Baltimore and Richmond and Savannah.

And a score of other places.

I spoke to George Washington.

And I watched Robert Fulton's team go and check out the Hudson when I was more than a hundred years old.

And looked thirty-five.

Then every Halloween I welcomed Candace home for a night.

One year in a farmhouse on an Illinois prairie, a red fox whined up my door.

And it was Candace.

One year a blue day flew down from the tree in Missouri.

On another year, she came as a skittering little gray fieldmouth.

And the year I came back to Wisconsin after the Civil War,

a torqued pine gnawed its way into my cabin on Halloween night.

And one of its quills spiked me before I thought to say who's that.

And when Candace smiled at me, there was only a strand of yellow hair through the thick of my thumb.

I remember she pulled it out.

And it hurts.

Years.

And years.

And years.

Now she's been a wonderful wife, but I never forget what she is.

Once a year is getting to be enough.

It was just sixty-seven years ago tonight before Halloween disease.

That was the first time she appeared before Halloween.

1880.

Brotherhood behaves was still present.

Things like yesterday.

I heard something bumping against the front door.

And before I thought I called out, who's that?

I thought you were never going to call me.

I didn't know it was you.

Well.

Huh?

Don't people keep their wives anymore?

Don't think.

You surprised me.

Suppose you surprised me.

Hmm.

Now.

How come you're so early here?

Oh, I just thought it would be nice to surprise you.

You certainly didn't surprise me.

Did I?

You certainly did.

What happened since last year?

Well, nothing much.

That's so.

And what have you been doing?

I've been away.

Where?

Great.

You'll be better off if you don't imply I took custody into my time at a fair.

Being married to a witch ought to be enough for you.

I'm just interested, Candace.

Like I'm interested in what you do when I'm away.

What?

I am interested, you know.

I don't know what you're talking about here.

You don't?

No.

Don't you ever get lonely while I'm away?

What?

Why?

Certainly.

Mm-hmm.

What are you talking about?

You know what I'm talking about, Craig.

I don't either.

You're forgetting that I'm interested in it.

What?

You got to keep anything from me, Craig.

Don't you know this?

Why?

Oh, I won't punish you, Craig.

But you must have run around with red-haired girls.

Well, I don't know what you're doing.

Oh, yes, you do.

So I just decided to take that temptation away from you.

Candace.

What did you...

Look over there at the window, darling.

And I love you.

I'm appearing in the window out of the darkness

with a frightened, tiny red squirrel.

It's teeth chattering with terror and cold.

She's still got her red hair, dear.

Candace.

Candace, did you do that to her?

Of course, dear.

No, no.

Don't try to rescue her, Craig.

I've got other plans, you little hair, friend.

What are you going to do?

Listen.

Now come here and pick me up.

Craig.

Yes, in some ways, it's fine.

In some ways.

You know, in the last 50, 60 years,

I've gotten so hungry to say who's that?

Anytime.

That's a way to say it.

Did you hear anything?

No.

No, I guess she's not here.

I wouldn't want to surprise me again.

I want to surprise her.

Hey.

It's, at least seven years ago,

that she sat the world on that pool of a red squirrel.

It was once my dream.

I forgot her last name.

Well, I hadn't forgotten what she did to me.

They arrested me for murder.

Candace, let me stay in jail a whole year.

I waited till the next Halloween, 1881,

till a little screech owl came and tricked

me on the window leg of myself.

Even then, I took me half an hour to remember

to say who's that?

I'm sure she was very sorry.

Very sorry.

But I had to be punished for being unfaithful to her.

Unfaithful.

I never even kissed my children.

That witch.

Believe me, I was pretty careful that I got out of there

and moved to Oklahoma.

If I had any female acquaintances,

I'd stop seeing them along in early September.

But that is how I should like it.

You only saw your wife once a year.

And if you knew she could turn into a caterpillar

or a hippopotamus or something,

whenever she got missed with you.

You look around too.

It's like I did.

She nearly caught me again

in Washington, BC.

That was in 1910.

I've been a good wife for nearly 50 years.

Well, pretty good, at least careful.

I was standing outside the door

and the woman will tell that Halloween night

a big moth dropped out of the darkness

and lit on my shoulder.

Can this light be a moth, I think?

I feel that way for a few twenty times.

Well, I knew what the once was.

Why?

My conscience was...

Recently, I guess I had just said...

Who's that?

Hello, darling.

Welcome back, can this be?

Dinner good for.

Perfect, darling.

Love can.

You mad about can.

Are you editing?

No.

Can.

You living here now?

In the hotel?

I hope you like it.

I've never been in Washington before.

I think so.

I know.

Oh, I'm so excited about it.

Flying in here?

Who's that woman?

What woman?

Why could I darling swear on her to do this?

Yes, I caught her.

I thought it was in Chicago where I left her.

Wasn't that just my luck?

I don't know what canvas did where she just disappeared.

Did you know what that witch did to me?

She turned me into a fire alarm bottle.

I had no glare, but it isn't funny.

From October 31, 1910 till October 31, 1911,

I stood there in front of the winter hotel,

rain and shine, snow and boiling hot weather.

And nobody even turned in an alarm on me.

Of course they did paint in the spring.

Then a half past eleven on Halloween,

a little black dog in life.

I tried to say who's that?

And I made it all like I could hear tears clicking on wheels spreading.

There we were.

Henders in a black fur coat.

And me and a blue shirt stood all plastered with red paint.

People were perfectly awful crazy.

How do you think I see it?

Oh my freaking.

Well now maybe you will be chasing other women like me.

And I promise I'll never do it again.

You better not leave that.

I'm a very jealous woman.

So I know this.

And if you think that was it, how would you like it?

No, no, can't it please.

No, no, no.

Don't tell me.

You make it me out.

And don't get paid all over my coat.

Henders can be very sweet when she wants to be.

But these last thirty years she doesn't seem to want to be.

Very much.

She spends most of the time she's here asking me questions about what I've been doing.

Where I've been.

The people I've seen.

The friends I'm getting off have tired of.

Two hundred and fifty three years is a long, long time.

It's a long, long time.

A jealous wife.

Don't make a rid of her.

This time I'm done.

Oh, I don't.

Love can't do something more.

My friend of her.

Hi.

Oh, I got this job here at the University in the history department.

I've got this little package up here in the hill for a jewelry Halloween.

Well, I...

I don't want Henders bargaining it on faculty role.

Well, I'm not supposed to be married here.

You don't have to be married.

So, I decided to end it all this year.

I'm going to kill Henders.

But that is I hope I am.

When she appears, I...

I'm not going to say who's that.

And then...

At least you and I are going to be married.

Oh, I...

God, I didn't tell you about it.

Now, here comes Alicia now.

I'd like to have you a meter.

This is Alicia.

How do you do?

Alicia and I are going to be married.

Yes indeed.

Right after Halloween.

Alicia is a secretary to the Dean of Women.

That's why I'm that great.

Well, I hope you know me.

I was learning with the Dean of Women.

Oh, goodness.

No deer.

I need you being introduced to her once.

I'm sorry, Jonathan.

I'll never forget it.

I won't either.

Didn't she print it?

Crane!

You mustn't talk that way this tree.

I'm sorry, deer, but you are pretty.

But I'm so much younger than you are, Crane.

Well, you are a little younger, dear, but...

That won't make any difference, will it?

Well, you're not going to need her, are you?

Excuse us a second.

Darling.

Darling.

I love you.

Darling.

I love you.

Yes.

But there are nothings we know.

Just chat your eyes a second.

Would you please?

No, darling.

Crane!

No!

You like her?

Hey, quite a girl, isn't she?

There's nothing at all like canvas.

Man, am I tired of canvas?

Wait a second, the phone's ringing.

I'll be right with you.

Hello?

Hello, darling.

This is Alicia.

Hello, dear.

Are you going up to the cabin today?

I'm just leaving, darling.

I wish I could go with you.

Well, I do too, but I'll be back in a day or so.

Could I please?

No, no, dear.

You know I can't be done.

I wish I could.

Well, it isn't practicable, dear.

I'll hurry back.

I could drive up tomorrow.

I'll probably be back tomorrow.

I'll miss you.

I'll miss you.

I just wanted to say goodbye.

I love you.

I love you.

See you in the day or so, honey.

All right.

But I wish I could go with you.

It can't be done, sweetie.

Oh, no, don't do that.

Alicia, wait.

Oh, my gosh.

She can't be better.

She doesn't.

Hello?

Hello?

I got me.

Get me up.

Three, four, one, two, three.

Oh, dear.

Well, so here I am.

I wish I could have got Alicia back on that phone.

If she comes up here, she'll...

Oh, well, she won't.

She's got better sense.

Yeah, let's see what time is it.

Mm-hmm.

Well, let's see.

Revolve room.

Silver butt.

The old Revolutionary War band that I had it falling for.

Boy and I, they'd crack it, give me four.

And pretty well fixed.

Come on, Candice, honey.

Come on.

Yes.

Come on, Ed.

This time, you can come here the time, baby.

And probably waitin' for you.

And then...

Alicia.

She, if she's an owl or something, I wish.

Oh, if she's an owl, I'd better get that shotgun out.

Okay.

Now, Candice.

Oh, look, go.

What the dickens was that?

A moth?

A moth, eh?

Well, well, well, Candice.

Here.

Or is that Saturday even closed?

Like somewhere, darling.

Like that?

There.

Mister, you're not going to get away this time, sweetheart.

Get away from that left.

Left, get away, I say.

I got you.

Oh, you're not dead yet.

Well, I'm...

Never mind, Craig.

What?

Never mind.

I'm going to die, alright.

Who's that?

It's too late, Craig.

You're still great.

But haven't you forgotten something, darling?

What did I forget?

You forgot what I told you back there on the hill.

You're alive.

Just as long as I live.

And when I die, you're alive.

Candice.

Candice, let me help you.

It's too late, darling.

Much, much in the night.

Hello.

Hello.

This is Poris Ranger Station.

Oh, this is Joe Thomas.

Listen, Brad, you better call the county conscious of somebody.

Well, I don't know.

Why must a little cabin have a way of letting go of Canyon?

You know, the one with the red shatters?

Yeah, well, I was on my way up to the stage.

Say, now, I meet this girl.

Please be quiet, will you, lady?

This girl and her car is what she's done.

Well, I picked her up and she wants to come up here.

Uh, what's your name, lady?

Alicia Dean.

Alicia Dean.

She's going to meet this fella here.

She says, and I left her out, and I was just starting away

and I hear her scream.

Scream.

You know how her?

Do I stop running inside and she'll let her head off?

Lady, lady, please.

Yeah.

Yeah, I don't know, Brad.

They sure looked awful strange.

Oh, there wasn't no guy here.

Oh, nothing but a squashed moth.

One of them big, this head moth, you know.

And a skeleton.

Yeah, a skeleton.

It dried up and dusty.

Like it was maybe 250 years old.

And that's all.

Just him and the moth.

Funny, ain't it?

You've listened to Quiet Please, which is written and directed by Willis Cooper.

The man who taught to you was Ernest Chappell.

And Gerita Bauer played Candice.

Alicia was playing Stan Lee, and the forest ranger was Jim Bull.

The music for Quiet Please is composed and played by Gene Prezzo, except of course for our theme,

which you'll answer the many queries.

It's based on the second movement of the Symphony and D minor by Sarah Bryant.

Now if we're worried about next week's Quiet Please, here is our writer director, Willis Cooper.

Take me out to the graveyard.

That's a title I've got for next week, all right?

Come along for the ride, will you?

So until next week of this time, I am quietly yours, Ernest Chappell.

Quiet Please comes to you from New York.

This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.

The Mutual Broadcasting System.