Quiet Please - The Smell of High Wines

Quietly. Quietly.

The American broadcasting company presents Quietly, which is written and directed by Willis Cooper

and the features Ernest Chappell. Quietly for today is called The Smell of High Wines.

You can talk about nostalgic sounds all you want to.

Church bells on a summer Sunday morning when you're come back to your hometown after a long, long time.

A long, homesick cry of a train that's opening to wake up in the middle of the night.

Some of these voices, you haven't heard for a long time.

You can talk about nostalgic sites too, from cows, manrails, or a green hillside.

The funny, y-shaped fence post that on a set of roads about a road that you saw the men 20 up to 20 years ago.

But for my money, there isn't anything like a smell to bring things back.

The smell of very coarse sounds as the train comes as a small town and comes as somewhere in Indiana.

In the bitter smell of fresh-tanned leather, your mouth puckers up like a pig when you're a chick walking past the harness shop.

A linseed smell of good, fat, critter's ain't in one. A greenish smell of raw newspaper.

Still the things will bring it back.

For me, it's the smell of High Wines. Smell it once and you'll never forget it.

But in a distillery town, you'll smell it practically all the time.

And you'll remember shorty gay on the funny street car that took you to work at 5 in the morning.

You'll remember the cold air that came up through the slacks in the fermenting room floor to freeze in your wet overall.

You'll remember the long dusty wooden stairs up at the tower.

And somewhere behind it always the taste of cold fried egg sandwiches in your lunch pan of midnight.

With a full moon looking critically in the wind ashes, and kind of sharing secret with you.

I catch the smell of High Wines. And I hear a sound that I thought I'd forgotten.

And I see a picture I thought I'd forgotten too.

A little room way up at the top of the tower, musty. Dusty with white mail.

One little yellow light hanging from a cobweb wire over an old desk.

A slight easy chair. Born smooth by a little homily government stalking.

And the smell and a sifting little smell of High Wines to remember it by.

And the sound I hear is the sound of something dripping out of the warp dusty floor.

Drop drop. Drop drop on the uneven floor.

The sound of the man's life dripping away. All alone in the tower.

And three o'clock in the morning.

I remember back in this morning and thirty years ago.

I wake up at three o'clock in the morning and I saw High Wines.

Pungent sharp with a kind of vicious cleanness.

The coming to life of the sharp alcohols and the gestures.

At least from the prison of the grains that are born in.

And the smell brings back the blurred picture of a little room where the man lay across the sharp dust.

And the blood is like a way.

I couldn't see his face in the parking light from the crusted light bulb.

I think it's the only dark clothing across the bend.

This hand dangling toward the floor.

The smell of High Wines was strong and I cramped out a room.

It was only the drip drip drip drip to here.

And the stain slowly spreading on the floor.

And I remember I ran headlong down the stairs and out into a clean air of the night.

And I can still feel the uneven tide of the railroad under my feet as I ran away from that place.

I remember how the smell of High Wines pursued me through the dark.

And through the day.

Through the bright hours of the day.

I squandered my sleeping time stirring at the walls.

One thing.

I'm waiting for a call that would take me back to that.

That's right around me.

Nothing private hot came and mother gave me my twenty cents in my lunchpale.

And I rode the bumpy streetcar down to the end of the line and walked the last half mile.

You find the stairs with a fermenting room office.

Grover fell on the bench and looked up at me.

Horrible spurs cut the coffee.

I get a knife you do.

And Dutch came in with a thermometer and a stiltson wrench and slapped me on the shoulder.

I'm not that bad.

I look at it in the bottom of my heart.

If you're resting in the gym, you can repack the new company.

All right.

It's not with you.

Me?

Nothing?

Is it sick?

Me?

No, I'm not sick.

There's white as a sheep.

Listen, Grover.

What happened?

What do you mean?

What happened?

What happened?

It's not with you.

Stop in the tower.

What happened up in the tower?

Didn't you hear?

Here it was.

Last night?

It wasn't here last night.

It was that night off.

Was you remember?

Sure.

I remember.

What are you talking about?

Didn't nobody tell you what happened up there last night?

Where?

In the tower.

What happened?

A man?

Dead?

What?

Dead man.

I saw him.

Are you not a Eugene?

No.

I'm not not a Grover.

I didn't hear about any dead man.

Who was it?

I don't know.

I saw him.

Tell me.

It was all over the floor.

Blood.

Blood.

Blood.

I saw it.

What were you doing?

I didn't know such any of the foam.

It ain't connected at night.

Listen, Eugene.

You saw a dead man up in the tower.

Yeah.

Where?

I was just up there.

Look, it's just something to read.

Mr. Files usually had some magazines up there.

I was on the up there a minute.

Was this the time I was up there?

It was his night off.

It wasn't anybody up there.

What is it?

Dead man.

I didn't know you better.

I think it didn't have to flop there.

I saw him.

He was escaping a drain.

I was not.

He was asleep.

That's why that number of people was there.

It wasn't anybody up there.

What is it?

Dead man.

I didn't know you better.

I think it didn't have to flop there.

Really?

That's why that number nine slipped up to 91 when Fred and I are came on this month.

You like to know.

They said it was 91.

It was asleep.

You were here anything about it, doctor?

Me?

No.

Somebody was murdered up there.

Do you remember what happened?

All over town.

I need to say anything about it.

I don't even have an average stroke.

I can't have an average.

You didn't say anything about it.

Did anything happen to Ebert?

Is that something?

You had one night at millions.

No, I didn't.

I saw him.

I got in.

I didn't. I saw him. He was right to keep an eye on things with him as well, huh?

Sure. Come on, Eugene.

I'll wear.

We're going up in the tower and have a look for your dead man.

It's dark up there.

It was dark when it was filming.

And you smell the pyroines just as it always did.

And then the people glow from a little yellow light.

But that's the bare and clean, like he dusted with a powdery neil of 50 years grinding.

I wore floorboards with dusty and dry.

And I could even see the footprints in the best I've made the night before.

Why'd you see the blood?

Right there on the floor I saw it.

And now the floor was dry as it always had been.

And the dust laid thick on it, the dust that had been there for years.

Now we get done and it needs to look.

You don't have to be a little bit on this floor.

I saw it.

Listen, Eugene, if I ever hear a view going to sleep on a night shift again when you're being paid to keep an eye on 14 cubs are preventing nasty downstairs.

Who's that?

Tell me where it is.

What do you want I told you to say?

It's all my investment.

But he got my house and stabbed him, and he'd let the dead.

And you know what else?

What? What?

They're like somebody from the zoo here.

Why?

Because when they found him, my whole room.

Now, just like it does around here.

Malah, I wasn't just strong.

I nearly knocked the people down.

Yes, I know what you think.

I know you think of yourself.

He did it.

And he lied when he told about going up in the power.

And finding a man bleeding to death.

And then the man that was there.

And then they couldn't find any sign of the next day.

You're saying that's a fine alibi, Eugene.

And you're saying that business about the smell of high winds

is a nice touch.

But aren't you forgetting something while you're figuring out your fine theory?

Aren't you forgetting that I told my story?

Before I grew up in Dutch, you heard about how his files were stabbed.

By a person or a person as I'm known.

Do you think a murderer would make up a story like that

and cut it ahead of time?

It's not that I wouldn't have told it at all, would he?

If I had had done it,

wouldn't I have been content with everybody thinking

I was at work in the history all night?

But nobody even thinking of me as a potential murderer?

That's the way you'd think, isn't it?

I wouldn't have shut off your mouth

about the dead man breathing the death in his defiled office

in the place smelling a high wind.

No, before it came out,

and Mr. Files really was murdered in his home.

And the blood dripping off on the floor

and the smell of high winds there too.

But they picked me up.

And I stayed in the red brick jail

behind the courthouse for a long time.

And they finally had a trial.

I sat there with handcuffs and wasn't my girlfriend,

but told her stories.

Yes, sir, he told us just that,

the way you've got it down.

Yes, sir.

He said he saw the dead man and Mr. Files got it.

Yes, sir, he said he was about three o'clock in the morning.

Yes, sir.

He was there all along on the fine-fire itself.

No, sir, he could have left and gone to Mr. Files house

and murdered him and nobody would have known

he left the distillery.

No, sir.

He wasn't at the distillery when the day shift came on.

No, sir.

I don't know where he was from three o'clock out.

And while they were talking on the court for him,

all the time I could smell the smell.

Just thinking I could smell the smell of high winds.

And there wasn't anything in the courtroom that could make it smell like high winds.

And when I asked Ralph Gore to share it,

he said he couldn't smell anything at all.

It's up to fresh paint,

but they painted the jury room.

And no high winds smell at all.

But I could smell it.

And that's the way it happened.

I told you the truth all the way along.

This is one of those stories where the man said at the end,

look, I've been lying to you.

I did it and I've been lying to you about it.

I didn't do it.

And that's the way it happened just like I told you.

They acquitted me.

You can see they couldn't prove anything.

And the story was too fantastic.

And I hardly knew Mr. Files at all.

Thanks so I was free.

I said, I'm not mad at you, Gore.

I'm sure you do know.

You don't have to say what I said.

But you noticed I didn't say anything that would make people think I thought you did it.

I stuck right to the truth.

I just answered the questions.

I know, Gore.

I heard you in the court.

I didn't say anything that you did.

I just told him what you said to me.

I didn't go on tour anything either.

Well, I didn't know things about him too.

Was there touch?

No, that was it.

No, there wasn't.

We just told the truth.

The whole truth was nothing but the truth.

Hey, we're going to get a good job, Lucas.

Aren't you coming back to the story, Eugene?

I don't think that's not great.

I don't think I'll take you back.

Well, you're general, I don't think so.

But, Glover, do you think I did it?

Well, I know.

I don't think so, Eugene.

Do you touch?

I don't know.

Who did it, Eugene?

You know, there was a woman, I know, that time,

and it was four or five years later.

We never took her back to working in a story

because I don't want to get a job,

to pay her money in a story,

and I just had to tell her my head experience.

I think I told her my head worked in a cabinet experience.

So, I had a lot of things to find out about what happened.

I wanted to get the job.

Sure, I used my little name, and I went to Omaha.

I had a job half of the bells, and a quick challenge,

and I made a pretty good name.

And after all, I kind of stopped worrying

about what had happened back home.

I never heard from anybody at home, so I was all right.

So, there were really distors in Omaha anyway then.

I remember it was the day of the four rations,

and it was the best day in Omaha.

I was sitting there in the breeze with a house detective,

and a little room down the basement,

where we had a tableware, and I played cards and stuff.

Looked the house stood up, and stood right.

So, I read, I'm going home.

What time is it?

Quite right to read.

In 45 minutes, and then I can hit the head.

Which I had a shadow whiskey.

Have they look at me?

No, I know. You don't touch it.

If I used to have make it, you did?

Yes.

It's a fair prohibition.

Smells like little coolers making something

back in the furnace room right now.

Smell it.

All right.

I don't know what that's all there is, but.

I don't have bad touch, and it doesn't smell.

I smell that before.

Or is it?

That's all right.

Maybe a mistake, that's no.

That's high line.

That comes out after the first installation of the match

of the whiskey.

Well, there's no display around here.

Only a cooler.

I'm going to see.

I'm telling you.

I know what that is.

I smell.

Look out.

Coolies, all we live in stuff in the passageway there.

I'll look out.

Let's see what this is.

Isn't it right?

What's the matter?

Did you break your head?

Look.

What?

I didn't, huh?

I still remember it, didn't I?

Why?

Where?

Look.

Where?

I'm sorry.

I was next.

I think both of you.

I didn't start.

That's a bundle of herb beds for you.

It's a cooler that lay on the floor.

See?

I tell you.

It's just like a dead man with a towel wrapped around his neck.

It's so cold.

Go on.

Look.

It's just like I said, I used to live back home.

That's...

Wait.

That's a matter now.

It's no.

Thank you.

I don't smell anything now.

Can't you smell it?

It's just no highlights.

I don't know about you.

Hey, hey.

Yeah.

Are you done with him?

That's a matter.

Let's do this juice.

That's a matter.

See?

You'll find it.

Right turn there.

There's a zizzi.

Let's do it.

In the smell, high runs in the coastal center passes.

It was overpowering as I was back to the detective.

The drug from the other five was ratted and just as the later left it is.

You ran and screaming away from it.

It's not a bad, good, bad man.

The towel had a tightly about his neck.

In the midnight sun, the window opened,

that out the truck in the shoes of coming out of the whole room,

the window that untied the power from his little vent stroke.

I got down in the face and I knew it.

It was never seen much.

It hadn't seen for five years.

You know the truth just the same as I did before.

I didn't know that was there.

I hadn't heard a word from you.

You know what goes up and away.

And this time I played it safe.

Red knew that I'd been with him for an hour.

The hour of its death died in the inflows about me.

I couldn't have done it.

I never was able to start a suspicion of me for that matter.

It was just coincidence that I should talk about what I thought was a dead man

with a towel mounted around his neck.

That's all.

Nothing was in coincidence that I'd smell but smell high lines.

That's how you run away from all the harm.

I wondered all around.

I never did smell high again.

Not till the other day.

I don't think there was anything I could make of his office.

It's been a long time and I've been all over the country I've got fast in.

I guess I got a little prosperous.

I haven't started my runs any further than that time.

Who revels?

If he stayed back home.

Now he was the big boss.

He was the boss of the rich.

Then I learned to stay at home for a time's sake.

So that must come down.

That big poor panoramic is.

You know, Dutch died, you know?

Did he?

I've known him quite a little time ago.

He was traveling for the company when he was out there and found him in his room at the hotel.

Did, huh?

Yeah.

Too bad, isn't it?

You used to have some good terrains together, were you back when?

Yeah, sure.

Did we?

Poor Dutch.

Poor guy.

And might as well go with you?

No, no thanks.

You know, I had a funny experience as a derriant after that Dutch.

You did?

No, funny.

You remember when you left here?

I said I do.

I knew about the father was killed then.

What was his name?

How's...

Remember?

Yes, I remember.

That was a very little way, wasn't it?

Uh-huh.

Well, that's not talking about it.

Remember how you talked about smelling high wounds?

You know, I have a smell of high wounds for years.

Not since...

Not since when?

No, no, I haven't either.

I was glad when they moved my office up town to get away from that smell.

I was not here to bring.

Where were we to?

To be perfectly frank.

What are your sniffing for?

Nothing.

I don't smell anything.

Yeah, I've got to cut a sniff of high wounds.

You know what I'm talking about?

Air condition.

Well, run.

Go on off.

I wish you were saying that it was funny experience.

Oh.

Well, then...

Remember you smell like smell when you died?

The old man.

Okay, I guess I remember.

I was sitting at home reading a Saturday evening post.

A story about a fell on a submarine and a atomic bomb.

It was about a red bomb with a train.

Well, I guess I must have fallen asleep.

It was late.

More of a sudden, I smelled high wounds.

You did, huh?

Yeah, I'm just as prone.

I don't smell that smell for years.

But you know something, Eugene?

You never forget it.

I guess you don't.

Well, now I better be gone.

Who are you really, Eugene?

I want to tell you about this dream.

I wouldn't have thought about it, but it's such a coincidence.

You're coming in out of a clear sky.

What about it?

Well, I got up and looked around.

I was all alone at home.

I couldn't imagine...

Did you smell anything now?

No.

That's a must in my imagination.

Well, I thought that way about that old experience of yours.

What did you find when you left?

What?

Did you find a dead body?

That's the funny thing.

Wait a minute.

I want to tell you that I was in the hotel when Dutch got killed.

I know you were there.

How did you know?

I mean, I had an idea where you came from.

I didn't tell Dutch.

No.

I didn't tell that old man.

No.

I didn't.

I know you didn't.

How did you know I was there when Dutch died?

I wished.

Well, tell me about your dream and then I won't know.

Yeah, what?

Did you smell anything now?

I won't.

No, why?

I just wouldn't know.

I never went to the find me dead, you see.

Did you find a dead man?

You smell how old the other man?

Yes, I did.

You did.

Tell me about it.

Do you know who it was?

It was here.

No.

It was suicide.

How did you know?

He had to go in his hand.

He tried himself in the head.

What did you do?

He was running alongside me on the floor and I jumped up.

He jumped up and leaked.

There's nobody there.

Just like it was when I...

Just like it was when you...

Who was it, Grover?

Why don't you know your dream?

I don't know why.

It's the truth.

It's the way Grover didn't happen.

I didn't tell you the lies.

Grover didn't live there.

I forgot to ask you something.

Did you ever smell how old I was?

You never did?

No.

It's just not how I was.

Like Grover said, you never forget it.

Yeah.

Where did this come from?

You know what I'm going to do with it?

He said you're never smell how old I was.

Take a deep breath.

You okay?

I can't get a big deep breath.

Yeah, that's it.

Soon enough.

The title of today is Cry of Peace.

The story is The Smell of High Vines.

It was written and directed by Willis Cooper,

the man who spoke to you with Ernest Chappell.

Grover was played by Marie Forge,

the French Thomas Jr.

and one of Black Playground music.

Now, please, as usual, by Out of Burnham.

Now, for the word about next week, Willis Cooper.

Thank you for listening to Cry of Peace.

My story is for the next week,

it's called A Family for Living.

And so, until next week of the same time,

I'm Cry of the Earth, Ernest Chappell.

This is ABC, the American Broadcasting Company.

This is W.D.I.E. in New York's First Station.