03x03 - The Soul has Bandaged moments

[bunniefuu]

[SIGHS]

Whew! Good glorious morning, daughter.

- Dad.
- Yes.

- You're up!
- Whew!

- You're dressed.
- Mmm.

You have color in your face again.

[CHUCKLING] I know. I feel % better.

It turns out all I needed was a few
days' rest, and now I feel fine.

However, I have come out of my illness

with an important realization.

- What's that?
- That I'm going to die.

- What?
- No tears, no tears.

No, it's just a simple fact.
I'm not long for this world.

Yes. Life is fleeting, a brief candle...

Bye, Eddy. [GROANS]

Before you know it, I'll be gone,

which means I have a lot
of paperwork to get to. Hmm.

Paperwork?

Yes. The situation is urgent.

No, I have to get
my entire estate in order.

Oh, I have to redraft my will,
notarize my deeds,

and send my collected essays
to the copyist,

not to mention donating
respectable sums of money

to New England's most
enriching institutions.

Emily, the clock is ticking.

I have to solidify my footprint
on the town of Amherst,

not to mention the world.

I may be dead within a month,

but people will never forget
the name Edward Dickinson.

Okay. Well, Dad, I'm so glad
you're feeling better.

Uh, um, there's something
I wanna talk about.

Speak quickly, please. I have some
major benefactions to arrange.

[SIGHS] Right.

It's just this rift
between you and Austin.

What rift?

I mean, how Austin got drunk
and said all of those terrible things,

and then your heart literally stopped.

Oh, all that.

Listen, I would honestly understand

if you never wanted
to speak to him again,

but I am begging you, with all
my heart, please forgive him.

Oh, my dear, dramatic child.

I'm not the slightest bit angry
with your brother.

- You're not?
- No.

If there's one thing my brush
with mortality has taught me,

it's that life is too short
to hold a grudge

against my one and only son.

Dad, I expected you to be so upset.

Emily, it's obvious that Austin is
going through something right now.

I don't want to hold that against him.

I want to support him
in any way that I can,

and if that means he's not gonna
speak to me for a while, then...

mmm, so be it.

It's not like I'm going to
write him out of my will.

Oh, Father. That is fantastic.

I can't tell you how
happy that makes me.

We can have peace.
Peace in this family at last.

- Thought you were gonna add more ruffles.
- It's a mourning dress.

I know. And whereas other women are only

in mourning for one dead husband,

I am in mourning for the infinite number

of husbands I never even get to meet.

So we're gonna need to kick
this up a notch.

You know, in my opinion,
ruffles don't really say 'grief.'

Really? Do you think a little
more cleavage would help?

Vinnie. Vinnie. Hi, Betty.

Great news. Dad's not mad at Austin.

- The Dickinson w*r is over.
- [LAVINIA] Yay!

Except, meanwhile
the actual w*r rages on,

which is why I'm gonna need your help.

Help with what?

I'm hosting one of our
sewing circles tonight.

Only I've renamed it
"The Amherst Ladies' Aid Society",

and we'll be making
bandages for soldiers.

Look at you, Vinnie. Doing your part.

Yeah, so it is time
to get your whipstitch on.

Ooh, I was actually gonna do
some writing tonight.

I have so much poetry in my head.

With all this conflict in our family,

none of it has been able to come out.

Finally, tonight I can sit in peace.

Um, I'm sorry.

Peace is not an option right now.

This country is at w*r,

my ex-boyfriends are dying,
and you need to help.

I can't even sew.

That's true. She really can't.
[LAUGHING]

Okay. We don't need to laugh about it.

Everyone has strengths. Sewing
doesn't happen to be one of mine.

Which is why Betty will
be joining us tonight.

She's the best seamstress in Amherst.

She'll teach us to make roller bandages

and other useful things
for the soldiers.

- Even you, Emily.
- That's right, but I can't stay long.

Remember, I have a... [YAWNS]
Oh, excuse me.

I have a... a houseguest.
I am just exhausted.

I didn't sleep last night.

This houseguest of mine,
she keeps me up all night.

- Who is this houseguest?
- Does she snore?

No, she talks. I'm helping
her write her life story.

She's an incredible woman, and
she's lived an extraordinary life,

but she can't read or write,
so I'm helping her get it all down.

We've been going for
three nights straight now,

and she just doesn't stop.

It's just story after story.
I can barely keep up.

That's amazing, Betty.

What a wonderful thing
to do for someone.

Help them write their truth.

Well, at least it gets
my mind off Henry.

No word from him yet?

Oh, my God. What happened to Henry?

Oh, we don't know.

We haven't had a letter from him
for over a month now.

- Are you two still even together?
- Vinnie, please. Be sensitive.

Listen, Betty. I completely get it.

I know what it's like
to lose someone I loved,

or, like, hooked up with
once at a party.

Henry is not lost.

He is out there somewhere, and
he's gonna write to Betty very soon.

I hope so for Helen's sake, at least.

He's out there. Betty, he is.
I'm not giving up hope.

Thanks, Emily.

That, um... That helps.

Well, that's all I want to do.

- Find ways to help.
- Great.

Sounds like you will be joining the
women of Amherst sewing tonight.

Vinnie, Betty, you inspire me.

We can all pitch in.

We can all do our part and
make this world a better place

and fill this country
with love and kindness.

- [DOOR SLAMS]
- That bitch won't let me hold the baby!

Okay, this seems like
a good time for me to leave.

See you later. Don't forget
to bring an extra thimble.

Who on God's green earth
does she think she is?

What is all this racket?

Oh, Edward! You're out of bed!

Yes. I started feeling better,

so I thought I'd pop down
and revise my will.

Well, you better not be
leaving anything to Sue.

- What did she do?
- She won't let me hold my own grandson.

- Whoa.
- I am that child's only living grandmother.

Where is the respect?

Not to mention the fact that it was me

who brought him into this world.

Well, technically speaking,
that was Sue, wasn't it?

Oh, please. All she did was
lie there and push a little bit.

Meanwhile, I used my time-honored
Norcross midwifery skills

to guide its skull into the light,
and this is how she thanks me?

She won't even let me in the room.

Okay, you know what?
Honestly, I've always disliked her.

Emily, I need your help.

Me? What can I do?

You're the only one she'll listen to.

She was asking for you
specifically just now.

She said, "Only Emily
can enter the bedroom".

You need to go and
talk some sense into her.

Right. I was just about to go upstairs
and collect my thoughts.

Emily, we don't have time
for your thoughts.

This family is being torn apart,
and if we don't act quickly,

that child may never get to know
his own grandparents.

Oh, don't be absurd.

The child is just a week old.
Have some patience.

Patience? What am I supposed to do,
wait until he's all grown up?

- Yeah.
- Bonding starts immediately.

I need him to know my scent.

Edward, you've never even
laid eyes on this child.

I don't need to meet him.

I already know he's gonna
carry on the Dickinson name,

and that's good enough for me.

Speaking of which, I have to
get back to my bequeathing,

and I can't work
in the midst of this hysteria.

So please clear out, will you, please?

I will go as soon as Emily
agrees to talk to Sue.

All right.

Okay. I, um... I'll try.

[MRS. DICKINSON SIGHS]

Emily, don't forget about
the sewing circle tonight.

Emily, this family is depending on you.

Yes, Emily. Please go. Go.

Emily, do something.

Don't worry, everyone.
Emily Dickinson is here to help.

[EMILY] Is it true, dear Sue?

Are there two?

[KNOCKING]

[SUE] Go away.

Sue, it's me.

[SUE] Emily? Come in, please. Come in.

Come here. We have room for you here.

He just nursed. Now he's sleeping.

[EMILY BREATHES HEAVILY]

Do you want to hold him?

Me? Oh, no, that's okay. That's...
Uh... Um, I'd probably drop him.

Great.

You don't even want to touch the baby,

and your mother refuses
to give him back.

Yeah, so, about that...

Wait a minute. Did she
send you over here?

Maybe.

- Can you just tell me what happened?
- You know your mother.

I swear she would try
to nurse this baby herself

if I gave her half a chance.

[EMILY SIGHS]

When she's over here,
all she does is criticize me,

boss me around and give me advice
that I don't need or want.

She just...

She just needs to respect my boundaries.

I hear you. I totally hear you,

but she is so desperate to bond
with her first grandchild.

Could you just cut her
a little slack? Please?

[BABY COOING]

I need more time with him first.

This baby will be a Dickinson
soon enough.

Just...

let him be a Gilbert for now.

All right. Let's see
this little Gilbert.

[SIGHS]

Say something to him.

I want him to learn your voice.

Hey, little one.

It's your uncle Emily.

[BABY COOS, FUSSES]

Uncle Emily knows a man who
drives a coach like a thimble.

Turns the wheel all day with his heel.

His name is...

Do you know the answer?

[BABY COOS]

- Go on. Give me a guess.
- Come on, baby.

Okay, I'll tell you.
His name is Bumblebee.

- [BABY COOING]
- [CHUCKLES]

Imagine the child we
could raise together.

He'd be a genius.

A prodigy.

Sue, that's impossible.

Is it impossible?

Or is it just not... what you want?

[BABY FUSSING]

Where's Austin?

[GROANS] Out with George.

They went to jump in Puffer's Pond.

They got drunk on homemade whiskey.

The pond? It's freezing.
It's not even noon.

Mm-hmm. Well, your brother is a child.

He probably won't even be home
for dinner. He's always out so late.

Emily. You could come.

We could have a little meal together
by the fireside, with the baby.

Wouldn't that be nice?

[FUSSING CONTINUES]

I can't.

Why not?

I promised Lavinia I would go
to her sewing circle tonight.

We're making bandages for the soldiers.

[SIGHS] Damn it.

[EXHALES DEEPLY]
Why do you always do this?

Do what?

Choose your family over me?

I never... That's not fair, Sue.

- I'm not choosing anyone.
- Shh.

[CHUCKLES]

Maybe that is the problem.

Sometimes, I would like to feel chosen.

[EMILY EXHALES SHARPLY]

I would choose you over anyone,
anytime, anyplace.

My family is on the verge
of tearing itself apart.

All I wanna do is just make sure
that everyone is okay.

I'm just trying to help, Sue. I'm...

There are so many ways
that you could be helping me.

You know, I didn't even want to go
to the sewing circle tonight.

What I want is to be writing poems,

but life keeps getting in the way.

Yeah. Yeah, life is messy like that.

There are poems that
I wanna write for you.

Okay, Emily.

But...

But what if I need more than your poems?

What if right now I need all of you?

[BABY CRYING]

[DOOR OPENS]

Babysitters club at your service.

- Hey, look at that. You have help.
- Yeah.

'Cause nothing says "free domestic
labor" like "adopted cousins".

["DMS" PLAYING]

[MEOWS]

[ABBY, TOSHIAKI GIGGLE]

[SIGHS]

- [BETTY CHUCKLES]
- [MUSIC FADES]

Remember to flatten your seams

and overlap the raw edges.

Very nice, Abiah.

Good work there, Mrs. Dickinson.

The soldiers are going to
appreciate that pillowcase.

Oh, thank you.

But this isn't for the soldiers.
It's for my grandson.

Hopefully one day I'll be able
to give it to him in person.

- Mom, I tried. Okay?
- [MRS. DICKINSON] Not hard enough.

Sue isn't letting Mrs. Dickinson
spend time with the baby.

Okay, I live for the hot goss
I get at these sewing circles.

Do you know what I would give
to hold my first and only grandson?

To hear him call me "Grandmother"?

Or maybe "Grammy".

Or "Gigi".

- Or maybe "Cookie".
- The baby doesn't even have a name yet.

But when they give him a name,

don't you think he
should call me Cookie?

- It's more youthful.
- Yes.

Speaking of babies, I can't
believe Jane moved to Vietnam.

- I already got a letter from her.
- Oh, my God. What does it say?

She brought maple syrup
to a restaurant in Saigon

and made people put it
on their dumplings.

Called it "New England-Asian fusion".

She's so canceled.

Emily, what are you doing?
You're wasting good muslin.

Sorry, the thread just kinda took over.

I thought you said you wanted to help.

Yeah. No soldier's going to be
able to wrap their wound in that.

I told you guys. I can't sew.

[BETTY] Then tear the
stitches out and start again.

We can't waste good muslin.

I wish I was more like a spider.

Excuse me?

A Spider sewed at night

Without a light

Upon an Arc of White.

That's so poetic.

Yes, because it's a poem.

- Ah...
- Just keep sewing, Emily.

Beautiful edgework, Vinnie.

Where did you get that fabric?
It has such a lovely sheen.

I'm tearing up my old dresses
to make bandages.

Hard to believe I used
to wear these dresses

to look good for my suitors.

Now the closest I'll ever
get to a man is

if he wraps his hemorrhaging leg
wound in a piece of my silk.

Girl, that is dark.

Personally, I never thought
the w*r would last this long.

It seems utterly endless.

I know. It's like... America was
only founded years ago.

Is this the end of it? Already?

Can we lighten the mood here?
Does anyone have more tea?

Tea? Oh, I didn't know you wanted some.

Girls, go make some tea.

- [SIGHS]
- No, I mean, like, "the tea",

the gossip, the dirt.

Here's some tea.

For every three soldiers
that are k*lled in the b*ttlefield,

another five die of disease.

And of those five, all of them
had wives, and girlfriends,

and ex-girlfriends who never stopped
being attracted to them.

They just weren't in the right headspace
for a relationship at the time.

This is all about Ship and Joseph Lyman.

Joseph Lyman d*ed
fighting for the Confederacy.

- We're not ready for that conversation?
- Is that true?

Ow! Why are needles so sharp?

Emily, if you can't sew,
then knit something.

I'm just not made for
traditional feminine handicrafts.

Emily, we all need to do our part.

Yes, you need to help.

I'm trying to help!

All day I've been trying,

but nothing I do seems to be
making anything any better.

We're not mending the
real wounds anyway.

[MRS. DICKINSON] What
do you mean by that?

I mean the pain that lies
in people's hearts.

The v*olence, the hatred,
the suffering in their souls.

That's what I want to heal.

With my poetry.

Good luck with that. [CHUCKLES]

What, you think poetry doesn't matter?

Question for the group: Who's
the greatest living poet in America?

- [ALL] Walt Whitman.
- [TOSHIAKI] Correct.

And what's Walt Whitman
doing these days?

He's a freaking nurse
in a field hospital.

Because even Walt Whitman realizes

that his words don't matter right now.

What matters are his actions,

the work he's doing on the ground
to help his fellow man.

I'm not sure I agree.

We publish poetry in Drum b*at.

That's the Union newspaper
my husband and I are running

under the leadership
of Abraham Lincoln himself.

We get it. Your husband
has met the president.

Lincoln says we're doing
great things for the Union.

And soldiers love Drum b*at.
They even read it on their deathbeds.

See? Poetry can bring
comfort to a dying man.

Oh, and that's all you want to do?
Give people comfort?

Sorry, but I think we should be
making people uncomfortable.

I think we should be taking
our rage to the streets.

Women deserve the right to vote.
We need to explicitly demand

that the constitution invoke
the rights of female persons,

and we need to not tell my husband
that I am saying any of this.

You can take that kind of talk
right out of my dining room.

[EMILY] Well, I think poetry can help.

Or least I hope it can.

Otherwise my life is
pretty much meaningless.

I think Emily is right.

Betty, go on.

Uh, Henry is a writer.

I blamed him for putting his
writing ahead of our family.

And it's true, it tore our family apart.

But then it...

His writing stitched us
back together again.

The letters that he writes Helen,
that he used to write...

They became her only source of hope.

God, I don't know what I'm gonna do

if Helen doesn't get
another one of those letters.

[MEN LAUGHING, CHATTERING]

[FOOTSTEPS]

So...

Yes, I do believe in
the power of writing.

Sometimes it's all we really have.

That's right. That's right, Betty.

And writing is what I'm good at.

So what if I can't sew or knit?
Or hold newborn babies?

Or fix all the messy relationships
in my family? So what?

The best thing that I
can do for the world

is lock myself away and write poetry.

But what good are your poems
gonna be if you do that?

What?

If you can't handle
the mess of the world,

why would anyone need to hear
what you have to say?

Writing that shuts real life out...

is as good as dead.

Well, maybe we should get back to sewing

because hundreds of eligible babes

are out there getting
their legs blown off. So...

- [DOOR OPENS]
- [AUSTIN GROANS] My leg! [GRUNTS]

- Incoming. Got an injury here.
- [EMILY] Austin?

- What's all this noise?
- Are you okay?

- [AUSTIN] The bastard got me!
- What happened?

We got into a teensy-tiny bar fight.

There were broken bottles flying around.

One of them cut Austin's leg.

[MRS. DICKINSON] My God. He's bleeding.

- My son! My son is wounded!
- [AUSTIN GROANING]

Go get the bandages!

But those are for the soldiers.

- Austin, sit.
- [AUSTIN] Oh, Jane.

- [EMILY] Sit down.
- Oh! Where... Where... Where is Jane?

- Jane!
- How much have you had to drink?

Not enough to drown my sorrows.

- Austin, listen to me. I have good news.
- [BETTY] No. Mm-mmm.

- Good news?
- Yes.

Did the boat turn around? Is Jane back?

- No. No, no, no. Shh. Listen to me.
- [BETTY] No! Mrs. Dickinson...

- Dad forgives you.
- Huh?

Yeah, I... I talked to him, and
he's not angry with you, not at all.

- He's really taking the high road.
- [BETTY] We've been here all day.

And even though you said
all of those awful things,

he's not holding a grudge.

He's totally ready to move on.

Wow.

Then he's even more of
an assh*le than I thought.

Austin, how can you say that?

He's just trying to deny my
feelings like he always has.

Of course, Dad would love to say
that there's no problem between us.

That's because the problem is him.

Well, I don't give a sh*t
what he thinks.

I'm still seceding from this family!

- Out of my way. My son is suffering.
- [BETTY] No. Mm-mmm.

But, Mrs. Dickinson,
those are for the U...

- Oh, my poor boy. Just let me nurse you.
- [GROANING]

- That's right, Mama's got you now.
- [SOBBING]

You call this seceding?

- Jane.
- Emily, get him some water. Try to help.

[SOBBING CONTINUES]

Jane. [WHIMPERS, SIGHS]

[BABY CRYING IN DISTANCE]

[CRYING CONTINUES]

[KNOCKS]

[EMILY] Come in.

Hey, Emily. Is it okay if I come in?

George, you're not supposed to...
Okay, cool. Cool,

yep, you're in my room.

Whew. Sorry about all that ruckus.

- I did not mean to cause such a commotion.
- George, it's very late.

Why are you here?

Um, I, uh... I wanted to give
you something. [CHUCKLES]

The Atlantic?

There's an article in there
I thought you might like.

"Letter to a Young Contributor".
It's advice for young poets.

By Thomas Wentworth Higginson.

Higginson the abolitionist?

Yeah. Dude is so cool.

Did you know he was
one of the Secret Six

that funded John Brown's uprising?

Now he's down south, fighting the w*r.

Leading the Union's very first
regiment of Black soldiers.

Long journey?

Long as hell.

But I got here.

That's all that matters.

[GEORGE] So he's out
there in the heat of battle,

and he still finds time
to care about poetry.

I mean... [SIGHS] ... it's pretty rad.

That's amazing.

I will definitely check it out.
Thank you, George.

Yeah, I mean, take it
or leave it. [SCOFFS]

I'm sure no one can really
give you advice anyway.

You're on a whole other level.

That's... That's nice of you to say.

Well, you know I've always
been your biggest fan.

[EMILY CHUCKLES]

I guess I've just been feeling
like my poems don't even matter.

What? That's crazy.

With everything going on,
in the world and in my family...

maybe it'd be better for everyone
if I just stopped writing.

Writing is what you were put
on this earth to do.

- Is it, though?
- [SIGHS]

Maybe I need to be doing
more to really help.

All I know is this.

If I had to choose between
you and your poems?

Yeah?

I'd choose your poems.

Okay, that's actually the sweetest
thing you could ever say.

- George, what are you doing? George?
- I... Oh, uh.

Um, I just thought maybe with
the w*r going on and everything...

George, I can't.

My heart belongs to someone else.

Oh.

God, life is messy, isn't it? [CHUCKLES]

Betty's back. There's my bad bitch.

Sojourner. That dress is the truth.

Oh, they're gonna know
I'm a woman in this dress.

Yes, they will. They will know that
you are the great Sojourner Truth,

abolitionist, evangelist,
fighter for suffrage...

- And famously single.
- Mm-hmm.

Wait. Where's your quill pen,
you multitalented bad bitch?

Let's get back to work.

I do want to keep transcribing
your memoir, but I'm just so tired.

Betty, if I can be the first Black woman

to sue a white man in court and win,

you can stay awake
one more night to write

my next chapter, about how I did that.

Okay. Okay! [LAUGHS]

- Yes, you're right.
- [MOUTHS WORD] Yeah.

We gotta keep fighting. Can't give up.

- That's what Henry used to say.
- That's right.

Because I'm not gonna die. No, I'm
going home like a sh**ting star.

Watch me light up the night
with my energy.

Can you believe I'm ?

We don't know your exact birth date.

Betty, I'm roughly ,
and I look good as hell.

Now. Where were we?

They just illegally sold
your five-year-old son

to a planter in Alabama.

White people are the devil.
Let's narrate.

[LAUGHS]

[BETTY] Writing that shuts
real life out is as good as dead.

[EMILY] Mr. Higginson,

Are you too deeply occupied
to say if my Verse is alive?

["THE GOOD ONES" PLAYING]