The Magic of Belle Isle Page #2

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as you will come to understand.

Now, I expect to witness

the finer side of your character.

If one of the local b*tches is in heat,

she will remain so,

without any assistance on your part

to alleviate her condition.

That's generally

a good way to handle it.

Oh.

One more thing:
no farting.

Peace and love.

Not now, Carl.

I've got work to do.

Me, too.

I hope you're ready for me,

Belle Isle,

'cause I'm coming for you.

Is this the Dollar Ride?

Good.

Does your transportation services

accommodate the handicapped?

Excellent, sir,

because if you did not

accommodate the handicapped,

I would sue

your unaccommodating ass.

Buenas dias, seoritas.

I don't know about you,

but this music makes me

feel like dancing.

Two Ding Dongs...

Bag of Cheetos...

And a box

of gluten-free Fruity Pebbles.

Will that be all?

Uh, I'll have another bottle

of your finest sour mash whiskey.

That will be $37.42.

Take it out of that.

So, it's Mahmoud, is it?

Yes, sir.

Here is your change.

- Uh-oh.

- What?

Classic check-out stand blunder.

What is?

In a word, Slim Jims.

Isn't that... two words?

You're taking

your eye off the ball, Mahmoud.

What ball?

I realize that it is considered

by many

to be an on-the-way-out kind

of item,

but I believe that

to be a rural myth.

Don't get me wrong.

If you have a hankering

for Slim Jims,

you'll hunt the store over,

but if not, a desperate display

like this improves no one's life.

What do you suggest?

Sunflower seeds.

Just a thought.

- Good day.

- Good day.

Come on.

You're such a good boy.

Hi.

We haven't formally met.

I'm Charlotte O'Neil.

Pleasure, Mrs. O'Neil.

Monte Wildhorn.

I should explain.

I have a rather long-standing

arrangement with Dave,

since he's away

a lot with his band.

And, while he's gone,

I take care of Ringo.

You're not, by any chance,

referring to Spot, are you?

Oh, a new name?

Well, I've known him

since he was a pup.

Well, there's a lot to be said

for enduring associations, Mrs. O'Neil,

but in the future,

I'd appreciate it

if you wouldn't walk my dog.

He's Dave's dog.

I'm not claiming to be

his biological father.

Oh... um...

This is Flora, my youngest.

Well, as long as you think

you can manage, Mr. Wildhorn.

And why wouldn't I be able

to manage, Mrs. O'Neil?

No reason.

Come here.

Oh, um, just so you know.

Uh, Ringo--

Um, sorry, Spot.

He tends to get stiff

in his hindquarters.

He needs daily exercise.

I'll take it under advisement.

Now, I'm willing to meet you halfway.

You miss Dave. I understand that.

But your friend Mrs. O'Neil

had no right to take you for a walk

without asking me first.

In the future, you will politely decline

all such invitations.

Is that clear?

Now that cannot be the response

to every admonishment.

Al Kaiser!

I'm just down the road.

Got the old outboard

in the driveway.

Where are my manners?

Do come in, Mr. Kaiser.

Can I offer you a Ding Dong?

Uh, sorry. I can't stay.

I'm having a memorial for Don

at my house.

Ah, the basketball aficionado.

Yes. It was quite a shock.

Yeah, well, not to me.

Well, I hope you can make it.

Uh, I didn't know the man.

Everybody's bringing something.

You know, potluck.

See you around 5:00.

I didn't know the man.

See you then!

Did I miss Daddy's call?

Daddy will call you

as soon as he has time, Willow Tree.

Daddy promised

to help me finish my raft.

I'm going to the island this summer.

What's so important

about that stupid island, anyway?

That's where the magic is.

You're delusional.

Willow.

I just don't understand

why I couldn't have stayed with Dad.

I'd like the two of you

to take the salad

down the block to Don's memorial.

I'm busy.

I'll go, Mama.

Thank you, Finn.

What do I do?

You offer our family's condolences,

and then you leave the salad

and come straight home.

What's condolences?

You say, "We're very sorry

that Don has passed,

but now he's with all of us."

He is?

Just drop off the salad

and look sad.

Ah, I'm so glad you made it.

I brought you Cheetos.

Nice touch. Welcome.

Uh, thanks.

There's plenty to eat,

and the beer is on ice,

just the way Don

would have wanted.

A lot of nice people here.

I think you'll like everybody.

I must say,

I'm a big admirer of your work.

Thank you.

I haven't been

a dog-sitter for very long.

No, I'm talking about

those Western novels you write.

I've got a copy of "Showdown

at Red Rock" around somewhere.

It's been out of print for years.

Uh, you mentioned beer?

Beer. Indeed I did.

Hi, Finn.

Sorry Don died. Here's a salad.

Don would've appreciated that.

And thank your mother for me.

You can add the salad to that table,

and be an angel

and drop that off, too.

One of the O'Neil girls.

Sweet kids.

Monte Wildhorn, may I present

Miss Finnegan O'Neil of Belle Isle.

Pleased to make

your acquaintance.

Can I get more beer?

Ah.

Mr. Wildhorn

writes about cowboys

in the Wild West.

Boy, I'll say one thing.

That Jubal McLaws

sure is quick on the draw.

Many cross his path.

Few live to tell about it.

Now, that's right,

like when Jubal had that shootout

with Deadshot Jim Watson

of Albuquerque.

Whoo!

Say, if I could find my copy

of "Showdown at Red Rock,"

would you sign it for me?

I would not, Mr. Kaiser.

I've always resisted becoming

part of the cult of celebrity.

However...

I will accept another beer.

Ah! All right. I respect that.

I'm not really from Belle Isle.

We only come here for the summers.

Is that so?

I live in Manhattan.

At least, I used to.

My dad and mom are

getting divorced,

so now my mom says

we have to live here all the time.

Hmm...

How come your mom let you

come to an event like this

all by your lonesome?

'Cause I'm 9 1/2 years old.

- Hmm, that's pretty old.

- I know.

My mom even lets me have

my own pocket knife.

You don't have no pocket knife.

- I do so.

- Do not.

My! my'

Look at that.

That must be about the finest

pocket knife I have ever seen.

You know, you can tell

a lot about a person's character

by the condition

of their pocket knife.

I'd say you were fearless.

What's his problem?

Oh, he's just being Carl Loop.

Willow says he's retarded,

but Mom says he's special.

Hmm. Well, whatever he is,

he's a fine dancer.

You write stories?

I used to.

My favorite story is

about aliens from outer space.

Mm. Extraterrestrials

have their place,

and I've met a few,

but you don't have to leave this planet

to tell a good story.

How...

How do you make 'em up?

Imagination.

The most powerful force

ever made available to humankind.

Here you go.

Hey, Monte, I'm no professional,

but I wrote this speech for Don,

but I'll never be able

to get through it.

I was gonna ask you

to read it out loud.

I've always had a disdain

for public displays

of sentimentality, Mr. Kaiser.

Hey, who doesn't?

Don would be so pleased.

Didn't know the man.

Monte has something

he wants to read to us about Don.

So, if you would, just step outside

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