The Waltons (1971–1981): Season 7, Episode 6 - The Portrait - full transcript

Jason, look.

There's someone riding.

And he's going much too
fast for that trail in the dark.

Who was that?

In the fall of 1941, the
war raging in Europe

still seemed remote to most
people on Walton's Mountain.

But its horrors were
growing every day.

Occasionally, someone would
bring the war home to our family

by touching our lives in a
personal and disturbing way.

Jason, look.

Nobody's lived there for
as long as I can remember.



Somebody's there now.

Listen.

I thought all the
Pembrokes were dead.

Except for the son. Derek,
I think they called him.

He was in Europe
studying art the last I heard.

Let's go home, Jason.

I can't quite make this out.

It's some kind of soap, but
I don't know what kind it is.

Oh, no, no, that's
soup, mushroom soup.

Mary Ellen's handwriting
is getting worse.

I heard the doctors teach the nurses
to write that way in the hospitals.

I do hope that your family is planning
on making a contribution to our bazaar.

Mama's cleaning out the
attic, trying to find things.

You know what you can do? A good
idea? You can open a kissing booth.



You could earn a lot of
money for the church that way.

Oh, I guess I better go
get the flathead screws.

I do hope that you will not allow
Mr. Godsey's uncouth remark

to prevent you from
attending our bazaar.

I'd go to a corn husking,
things are so boring around here.

Oh, I quite agree.

It's a cultural desert.

Good afternoon. May
I be of assistance?

- After the ladies.
- Oh, well, they are already being served.

I have a list then.

How refreshing to
find someone so virile

also capable of
domestic affairs.

What's he staring at?

Well, maybe you staring at him.

- He's handsome.
- He'll hear you.

A gallon of turpentine?

My, you must be planning
on doing a lot of painting?

Yes.

I don't believe I've had the pleasure of
seeing you around these parts, have I?

No.

I'd like to cash this check.

Oh, we hardly ever handle
personal checks, but...

Mr. Godsey?

Well, let me see.

Pembroke, Derek Pembroke...

Oh, Derek Pembroke the Third.

Oh, now I understand.

You're the one that's been
staying at the Pembroke place.

Everybody's been wondering.

Well, I'm Ike Godsey
and my wife, Corabeth.

How do you do?

Will you honor that check?

Oh, sure, for a new
neighbor, of course.

I guess you're going to be staying
with us for a while here, huh?

Where is it that
you've been again?

Paris.

And now that Paris has fallen, you are
here seeking refuge in Walton's Mountain.

And what is it you do
again? You're a painter?

Yes.

What a cultural addition
to our community.

I'm sure there are a great many
people who would like to meet you.

Perhaps a small
soiree can be arranged.

No, I'm here to work,

not to socialize.

Oh.

We'll fill your order later. Mr. Godsey
would be happy to deliver it.

Would you like us to
put it on your account?

Thank you.

Au revoir, Mr. Pembroke.

Wow!

You remember Nurse McKlusky?

Mean!

Well, she said to say
hi and to tell you that

the plant you gave
her is doing just fine.

We have a new neighbor.
An artist from Paris.

Derek Pembroke
is back from Europe.

- Oh, boy.
- Grandma remembers him.

I was always fascinated
by the Pembrokes.

Their thoroughbred horses, elegant
clothes, traveling to New York, Europe.

This one has the
most piercing eyes.

Yes, all he did
was stare at Erin.

Let's take these in the house.

- I'll take them, Elizabeth.
- Thanks.

You're home early.

I'm working in the psycho ward
this month, the hours are different.

- Do you like it?
- It's a little scary.

You never know what the
patients are gonna do next.

One minute everything's
peaceful, the next bedlam.

Well, living with this family must
have been good training for that.

How about you, how's
work at the business school?

- Boring, just like everything else.
- What you need is a boyfriend.

- With the draft that's a lost cause.
- Well, don't give up.

What's all this?

Stuff for the bazaar. I'm
helping Mama clean out the attic.

What, Grandma?

I don't think Grandma
wants the bird cage to go.

Well, Grandma,
it's pretty beat up,

and we don't even have a bird.

Get one.

Okay, Grandma,
just leave it to me.

Would you like to sit over here?

Things are really
slow in here tonight.

I'm Jason Walton.

Derek Pembroke.

The nightlife around Walton's Mountain
must seem pretty tame after Paris.

Do you know any French songs?

The Marseillaise
and Frère Jacques.

How about this one?

What do the words mean?

"Pleasure of love

"lasts only a moment,

"the pain of love
lasts for a lifetime."

Jim-Bob, I give up.

If you don't pipe
down, it'll never work.

We've been out here forever.

Yeah, but the thing with
hunting is you've got to be patient.

You've got to outwit your prey.

Okay.

You know, if we just pool our
money, we can buy a canary.

All it takes is a steady
eye and a quick hand.

Okay, Jungle Jim, just remember,
the pet store closes at 5:00.

This will never work.

Wait, don't move!

Just like that.

I like the way the light
is falling on your hair.

I didn't mean to disturb you.

You came at just the right time.

My mother used to paint.

Not people, just
mostly landscapes.

I always wished I could.

Some people paint beauty,

others are simply beautiful.

- May I see it?
- No!

I'm sorry.

This place was so much
lighter when I was a boy.

All these trees have
grown together now.

I can smell decaying wood.

Do you miss Paris?

The Paris that we knew is dead.

It's a dark place now.

We must forget Paris,

and begin a new life here.

Are you coming?

I have to go home now.

Another time then.

Erin?

Erin!

Erin!

You were off in the clouds
somewhere. Will you give me a hand?

Sure, Mama.

Don't drop any. These have
got to last us the whole winter.

I've never seen the peaches
as big as they were this year.

Bursting their skins.

I could hardly get
them in the jars.

I ran into that artist
in the woods today.

Derek Pembroke.

- There's something different about him.
- And attractive, I'm told.

He's probably broken
a dozen hearts by now.

You'd better not go walking in
the woods, Erin, the mood you're in.

Mama, don't you ever get tired of
doing the same things over and over?

Sure do.

Every year for as long as I can remember,
you and Grandma have put up fruit.

Can't afford to have
it going to waste.

Every day is the same for me.

I get up, I go to work, I
come home and I go to bed.

Sounds to me like you've got a
good case of feeling sorry for yourself.

It's the sameness that makes
the special things stand out.

Take this winner cactus.

Every year at about this
time, I bring it down here.

It stays in the dark
for a whole month.

Poor thing.

Well, it's being in the
dark that makes it bloom.

By Christmas it will
be glorious with color.

You're having a dark spell, it
must mean that flowers are coming.

I hope.

I don't care if you are my sister, if
you say, "I told you so," I'll smash you.

I wasn't going to say anything.

Yeah, well you're thinking it.
You've got that look on your face.

I don't know why
you should be so mad.

You wanted to catch a wild
bird and you caught a wild bird.

I wasn't the one who let it go.

Yeah, well, you'd never let
me take it home to Grandma.

Jim-Bob, you're a big softie
and you hate to admit it.

I wonder how much the
pet store charges for birds.

This is where the artist lives.
I wonder what he's doing.

Painting ladies maybe.

I'd sure like to
know, wouldn't you?

Hey, Elizabeth, I dare you
to go peek in the window.

I will if you will.

Let's go.

Grandma? Are you resting?

Come in.

Do you remember
that old bird cage?

Well, Jim-Bob fixed it
up and we decided...

- What good is a bird cage without a bird?
- Yeah.

So, here it is!

Oh, my.

The man in the store promised
he's a guaranteed singer.

But so far he
hasn't sung a note.

Maybe he just has
to get used to us.

We tried to catch a
wild bird, but we couldn't.

Anyway, we couldn't be sure of
getting a guaranteed singer that way.

And when he begins to sing, he
can be company for you, Grandma.

Come on. Come on.

Where would you like
us to put him, Grandma?

Kitchen. Kitchen.

But, Grandma, he's supposed to
be for you, to keep you company.

Don't you want to
keep him in your room?

Everyone.

Everyone.

Hope you like him, Grandma.

Oh, my.

Today started out like
every other day of my life.

Then this afternoon

the strangest thing

happened in the woods.

- What are you writing?
- Why are you sneaking up on me?

I wasn't sneaking up on you. You
just weren't paying any attention.

Well, I happened to
be writing in my diary.

Big deal. "We had
chicken pie for supper.

"I have 13 students
in my typing class."

- You were reading my diary?
- Only once. It was left open on the desk.

It was boring!

That's because everything
around here is boring.

You wouldn't say that if you
saw what Jim-Bob and I saw

at the Pembroke
place this afternoon.

What did you see?

We peaked in the window and we saw
Derek Pembroke painting right on the wall.

Elizabeth, you had no
business spying on him.

But it was scary.

He was painting the whole war,
people getting shot and killed.

Then he got mad and threw
his paints all over the place.

He is an artist, Elizabeth.
Artists are always temperamental.

Elizabeth?

Daddy wants to see you.

Jim-Bob told.

I wouldn't be in your
shoes for anything.

Downstairs.

You know something,
Ben? You're a real drip.

Guilty conscience, huh?

Elizabeth,

Jim-Bob was telling me about
your little adventure this afternoon.

I couldn't help it. He was looking
at me like he could read my mind.

You two know better than to go
peeking in neighbors' windows.

We were curious.

That's no excuse
and you know it.

Next time I hear something like
that, you're going to be punished.

I wouldn't go back there
anyway for anything.

Glad to hear it. I don't know
what's going on down there,

but I don't want you hanging
around Derek Pembroke. Is that clear?

- Yes, Daddy.
- Yes, Daddy.

Can we go now?

Get along. I'm sure
you've got homework.

I know you do.

Mr. Pembroke.

I've come for some more things.

First, it is necessary that
we discuss your check.

It was returned from the bank
marked, "Insufficient funds."

"Bounced," I believe,
is the common term.

I'm sorry.

I have money coming from
the estate, until I get it, I'm broke.

As a matter of fact, I think
I'm going to need more credit.

You already owe us a
considerable amount.

I know that and you'll be paid.

Meanwhile, I brought you some...

Some security.

Your paintings?

Oh, my!

Well, these certainly do
show the ugliness of war.

They're not what one
would call pleasant,

but they do have a
certain brute strength.

Good.

Then sell them for whatever
price you think is fair.

Oh, well, I don't know what
Mr. Godsey would have to say about that.

- Just how much credit do you want?
- I just need a few things.

Well,

we cannot allow our leading
artist to go hungry, now, can we?

Give me your list.

Thank you.

May I?

Yes.

Do you like it?

They're very powerful.

The important thing is the
emotion that it creates in you.

I don't like to look at
them, but it's hard not to.

Then you understand.

I'm glad.

Good morning, Erin.

Good morning, Corabeth. I
just brought these letters to mail.

Well, perhaps you would be
interested in my latest venture.

I am planning on
opening a small art gallery

featuring the works of
our own Parisian artist.

I hope it's successful.

I'll just leave these here.

Perhaps you'd like to spread the word.
Godsey's Gallery is open for business.

I'll take you home?

My brother is coming for
me. And I'm going to work.

I'll wait with you then.

- I've been waiting for you.
- What?

The mural isn't going well.
I need you to pose for me.

You can find a lot of
girls prettier than me.

No. It's your face that I need.

Will you sit for me?

I can't.

I have a job.

Well, then come to
my house, tonight.

I've got to go.

I'll be waiting!

Mr. Pembroke, your order.

Audience ready,
curtain going up!

- I - can't find the station.

Okay, chirpy, this is for you.

Your own radio show.

Brought to you by
Admiral Birdseed

and dedicated to canary
lovers everywhere.

Come on.

Let's turn it up.

This just isn't working.
That bird's not gonna sing.

We got gypped.

I think I'll take him
back to the store

and demand a real
singer or my money back.

No.

Come on. Come on!

You're late.

I wasn't going to come at all.

I came to tell you that
I can't pose for you.

Come in.

This way.

What do you think?

It's wonderful.

- And awful.
- It's my life.

This central place,
reserved for you.

I thought I could paint
you from memory.

Why did you stay away?

I missed you.

You are so beautiful
by candlelight.

Oh, Gabrielle. Gabrielle.

Gabrielle!

Gabrielle!

Gabrielle!

Gabrielle!

We haven't even had a nibble.

Of course, I really
can't blame people.

You're a painter, Olivia. What
do you think of these things?

There's no doubt the
man has real talent.

You see, Mr. Godsey?

I find these paintings
very disturbing.

I wouldn't want one in my house.

There, you see? We'll
probably never sell them.

And I'd rather have the
cash than the culture.

The fact is, Olivia, the man
was practically destitute.

If we had not taken these paintings in
trade, why, he would probably be starving.

Why doesn't he go get an
honest job? He's a painter.

Why doesn't he paint
the outside of the store?

Mr. Godsey, this man is an
artist! Not a common house painter.

And some artists would
rather paint than eat.

You're always hearing
about them starving in garrets.

That's not exactly a
garret he's starving in.

He could sell it.

We've been lucky
in this country.

We haven't had to
experience this kind of pain.

Yet.

I don't know what makes you
think this is gonna work, Grandma,

but it couldn't hurt to try.

Come on.

Grandma, I don't think Chirpy is
going to sing anything after hearing this.

Come on. Come on.

Grandma, I hate to see you
breaking your heart over that bird.

I'm afraid it's
never going to sing.

Yes.

You know, only the males sing. I'll
bet Jim-Bob let them sell him a female.

It's hard to tell with a canary.

A boy.

What makes you think so?

Intuition?

We can always take him back,
you know, and pick out another.

Mine.

I know you're fond of him, Grandma,
but I thought you wanted a songbird?

He will sing.

If you say so, Grandma.

Dear diary,

after what happened at the
Pembroke mansion the other night,

how can I go back to writing
about the everyday things of my life?

I have been kissed by boys,

but never before by a man.

And it was the most wonderful,

scary thing that
ever happened to me.

Come in.

Erin, any trouble
with John Curtis?

He's still asleep.

Didn't miss me, huh? Just like
a man, out of sight, out of mind.

I guess so.

You okay, Erin?

Yeah.

Mary Ellen, how do you
know when you're in love?

When you are, you don't
have to ask that question.

Who do you have in mind?

Derek Pembroke.

He asked me to
pose for a portrait.

You never mentioned it.

Well, I didn't think it would
be important to anyone.

Nobody ever asked me to pose.

Mary Ellen, it's different
than John-Boy's writing,

or Jason's music,

or your making people well.

Being pretty isn't
something that I earned.

It just happened.

That doesn't mean
you have to hide it.

I went over there
the other night.

Oh, Mary Ellen,
he was so strange.

One minute he was angry,

and the next he was real tender.

And he acts like he's
known me for a long time.

I've thought I
was in love before.

First with Chad,
and then with G.W.

But this is different.

I want to be with
him until it hurts, but,

when I am, I'm so frightened that
I just want to run home and hide.

If it was love, you wouldn't
feel like running from it.

I think you know
he's wrong for you.

I'm never going
to see him again.

But it's going to be awfully
hard not thinking about him.

Come on, stop that, Grandma.
You're working too hard.

Let's play a duet.

You're going to lose your touch.
You haven't practiced for a long time.

I mean it, Grandma. Sit down.

You're through
dusting for today.

Carry Me Back to Old Virginny,
it's one of your favorite songs.

Carry me back To old Virginny

There's where the cotton

And the corn and 'tatoes grow

There's where the birds

Warble sweet in the springtime

There's where this
old darkey's heart

Am long'd to go

There's where I labor'd

So hard for old massa

Day after day In the
field of yellow corn

No place on Earth Do
I love more sincerely

Than old Virginny

The state where I was born

Grandma!

Jim-Bob, Grandma
taught Chirpy how to sing!

Hey, that's great,
Grandma. Good going!

We knew you could
do that, Grandma.

He was just waiting to
hear your voice, Grandma.

Boy, it sure took
him long enough.

Yeah. Look, though.

We're going to have to
change his name to Caruso now.

Sorry about the shorthand
class, girls. No lights, no class.

And we get a night
off. See you tomorrow.

Does anybody need a ride home?

No, thanks, we're
going to a movie.

- All right, good night.
- Bye.

Bye-bye.

What are you doing?

Stay where you are.

Where are we going?

Home, Gabrielle.
To finish the painting.

Why do you always
call me Gabrielle?

Why do you play games with me?

They'll be expecting me at home.

We have work to do.

Take me home, Derek.
Please, take me home.

Gabrielle, don't be frightened.
It will be like old times.

I am not Gabrielle! I am Erin!

No!

I will not lose you.

Nothing is ever going to
take you away from me again!

Don't move!

I think I put that file
right on the desk.

Yes, here it is.

You can drop it by here any
time you're finished with it.

Thank you, Doctor.

How do you find duty in the
psycho ward, Mrs. Willard?

Well, it took some getting
used to, but I like it now.

Good. You'd make an
excellent psychiatric assistant.

You might give some thought
as to making it your specialty.

Well, not right away.

I'm hoping to join my
husband in Hawaii soon.

Who painted that
picture, Doctor?

A patient.
Interesting, isn't it?

Looks very familiar.

The artist was
admitted a while back

with a leg wound he'd gotten
escaping the Nazis in France.

He painted this while
he was recovering.

What's his name?

Pembroke. Derek Pembroke.

It is the same artist.

We tried transferring him
to the psychiatric ward,

but he wouldn't stay
and we couldn't hold him.

You mean he's mentally ill?

And in my opinion he
could be dangerous.

- Thought you were Erin.
- Isn't she home yet?

No, Mama's really worried.

She's in there right now trying
to call everyone she can think of.

Well, she should have
been home a long time ago.

I stopped by the business
college on my way home

and there was a sign on the
door, classes were cancelled.

The power's out at school.

I'm going looking for her.

If she'd broken down, you would
have passed her on the road.

Unless she took a shortcut
and went to visit somebody.

Derek Pembroke!

What's he got to do with Erin?

Well, she went over there
once, he wanted to paint her.

It's the first time
I'm hearing this.

Well, she said she wasn't
going to see him again.

She meant it.

Unless she didn't have a choice.

It's the first place
I'm going to look.

I'll give you a ride, Daddy, I
can explain on the way over.

Ben, not a word of this to your
mother. Just tell her I'll be right back.

Okay, Daddy.

Something goes wrong.

Beauty turns to
ugliness and horror.

I can't see you, Gabrielle.

All I see is blood.

Your blood!

The day we fled Paris,

we were trying to save
paintings from the Louvre.

It was a cold, gray day.

There was a steady
rain. It fell silently.

The Germans were already
on the outskirts of the city.

Already rounding up deportees.

We loaded the truck,

and we took the road to Épernay,

but it was clogged
with people crying.

Planes,

they came so low

we could have reached
up and touched them.

The noise was terrible.

Bullets

tearing through your body.

You looked up at me

and I tried to smile.

You died in my arms.

Gabrielle.

Gabrielle!

Derek.

Do you have folks or some
friends we can call for you?

I have a friend.

He's a doctor.

Do you want to go now?

Daddy.

Come on, son.

Derek recovered
from his breakdown

and returned to France to
serve with the underground.

The old mansion was boarded up,

and, in time,
Erin's portrait faded

along with her memories of the
young artist who had painted it.

Liv, whatever happened to
that old bathrobe of mine?

I donated it to
the church bazaar.

It was just getting comfortable.

No wonder, you've been
wearing it for 15 years.

Any chance of getting it back?

I'll buy you a new one tomorrow.

New job, new car, new bathrobe.

Maybe I better start
looking for a new wife.

- Liv?
- Take your hands off me!

Liv, I was just joking.
I'd never say that.

If you want a new wife,
you just go out and find one.

If you were joking, it wasn't
my idea of a very good joke!

Liv, settle down!

And if you want that
silly old bathrobe,

you can go down to the
church and get it yourself!

You'll wake the whole house up
carrying on like that, Liv. Now, come on.

English -SDH