Chapelwaite – S01E01 – Blood Calls Blood [Transcript]

1850. Captain Charles Boone inherits his wealthy cousin's estate and relocates his family to small-town Maine. The Boones encounter prejudice, hostility, a mystery illness and murder as Charles begins a dangerous journey of self-discovery.
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Chapelwaite - Poster

Set in the 1850s, the Chapelwaite follows Captain Charles Boone (Adrien Brody), who relocates his family of three children to his ancestral home in the small, seemingly sleepy town of Preacher’s Corners, Maine after his wife dies at sea. However, Charles will soon have to confront the secrets of his family’s sordid history and fight to end the darkness that has plagued the Boones for generations.  Chapelwaite is based on Stephen King’s short story, Jerusalem’s Lot. The new series premiered on Epix on August 22, 2021.

Chapelwaite
Episode 1: Blood Calls Blood
Original air date : August 22, 2021

* * *

[breathing rapidly]

[shoveling]

[gasps]

[breathing heavily]

[man grunting]

[shoveling and grunting continue]

[gasps]

[knocking on door]

Sara!

Open the door!

[woman] Stop it! Robert, you’re not well!

[Robert] I need the boy! No!

Don’t let him in. Don’t let him in

[pounding, crashing]

[gasps]

[struggling, shouting]

No!

[woman shouting]

[woman cries, man roars]

Stop!

Run!

[man roars]

[breathing heavily]

Charles.

Charles…

Charles!

[Charles] Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,

Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

No!

No, Father, no!

No!

Father, no, no!

Father, stop! Wait!

Father!

On your knees, Charles.

No! Father! You’re not well!

It’s coming.

The worm.

I can’t stop it.

Father, why?

Blood calls blood, son.

No!

♪♪♪

[gunshot]

[breathing shakily]

[woman] You have to go, Charles,

far away,

and never return.

[man] Truly, truly, I say to you,

he who believes in Him who sent Me

has eternal life

and does not come into judgement

but has passed out of death into life.

[woman] Charles, have you thought about it?

A ship is no place to raise children,

especially our girls.

[Charles] You never felt that way before.

[woman] It’s different now.

The children will need a home,

and school.

Structure.

I know what you’re afraid of,

but you are not your father.

You will know what to do.

God sent us a gift in your cousin’s letter.

“And whosoever liveth and believeth in me

shall never die.”

[girls weeping]

[wailing and shouting]

Captain.

Is there something you’d like to add?

[girls cry]

Set course for New London.

[splash]

[men shouting indistinctly]

[Charles’ father] Blood calls… blood.

[line repeating, overlapping]

[roars]

[breathing heavily]

[man] Here we go.

[indistinct chatter]

[Honor] It’s okay, Tane. There’s no scratching.

There’s nothing to be afraid of. Okay?

[Charles clears throat]

Trouble sleeping?

Tane’s scared. He heard scratching on the hull.

He thinks Mother wants to come back aboard.

What if we put her in the water alive?

I assure you, son, we didn’t.

Loa?

She hasn’t spoken all day.

Children, uh…

I have something to share.

We’ve inherited a sawmill and a house in Maine

from my cousin Stephen,

a man I barely knew.

He said he wanted to heal an old rift in our family.

Even has a name:

Chapelwaite.

[Honor] We’re getting off the ocean?

[Charles] Aye.

Your mother thought it best.

♪♪♪

You said it was a house.

This is a mansion.

How rich was your family?

It’s twice as big as a whaler!

What do you think, Loa?

I hardly know what to say myself.

You must be Charles Boone, the sea captain?

I am.

I’m Mrs. Cloris,

the former housekeeper of Chapelwaite.

Stephen’s executor asked me to greet you

and give you these papers for the house and mill.

Well, thank you.

I’m afraid my absence

has left the house victim to vandals.

Though it would seem nothing was taken.

Well. These are my children…

Honor. Loa. Tane.

Is there a Mrs. Boone coming?

My wife passed eight months ago.

Children, go on.

Go explore.

Honor, look!

Look at the staircase.

You knew my cousin Stephen then.

Since he was a baby.

His father, Phillip, hired me.

I considered Stephen my own.

How did he die?

Grief.

We all carry grief. It’s rarely fatal.

Stephen’s daughter, Marcella, meant everything to him.

She fell down the cellar stairs.

Broke her back into pieces.

Stephen found the child and never recovered.

The door to the cellar is in the kitchen.

You’ll find it locked. I recommend you keep it that way.

The stairs are dangerous. It’s no place for children.

Um…

Mrs. Cloris,

in case you’d like to stay on, we’re in need of a governess.

Thank you, but I have no interest

in being in this house any longer.

If it’s money…

It’s not.

Hmm.

I’ll ask in town and return with a few girls to clean.

I owe Stephen that much.

Preacher’s Corners is an hour east down the Post Road.

You’ll find all manner of provisions there.

[birds singing]

Whip-poor-wills.

I’ve never seen them during the day.

♪♪♪

[glass clinking, rolling]

Tsk…

[sighs]

[sighs] Shit.

That’s cousin Stephen.

I recognize him.

[Loa] Who’s the little girl?

She must be Marcella. Stephen’s daughter.

Shouldn’t this house be hers?

She passed away.

And that’s Stephen’s father, Uncle Phillip.

Ah, he was a stern man.

They came to visit us once in Massachusetts.

They had wealth, standing.

Stephen was always nice to me.

When they left, I…

I wanted to leave with them.

How did they make their fortune?

My great-grandfather James used to mine copper

in the hills around here.

My grandmother Silence built upon that with lumber.

How come you never talk about your father?

He was a

peculiar man, my father.

Nothing more worth mentioning.

Come, let’s explore the rest of the house, shall we?

Children?

I’m just stowing some things down in the cellar.

[door creaks]

[exhales in disgust]

[coughs]

[grunts quietly]

♪♪♪

[creaking]

[gasps]

[door creaks]

Those stairs aren’t safe.

No one goes down there.

Understand?

Tane?

Yes, sir.

[sighs]

Um…

Mrs. Cloris left us some food.

Chicken and a loaf of bread.

Oh, bless you, Mrs. Cloris.

I think we’re going to like it here.

Mm.

I wish Mom could have seen this house.

I do, too.

What do you think, Loa?

Would your mother approve?

Well.

You may be right.

She would’ve found Chapelwaite extravagant.

I agree with that, but, uh,

I’m proud of it, too. It’s, uh

it’s a symbol of Boone industry and success.

[rattling, creaking]

[rattling, scurrying]

[rattling, scurrying continue]

What do you need, Loa?

I’m afraid we have rats.

They’re being clever now. They know we’re onto them.

[insects and birds chirping]

Any luck?

It’s a bit confusing, sir.

I didn’t see no crappin’s, no holes.

Just a couple a dried-up carcasses.

Well, we have rats, Mr. Fletcher, I assure you.

Maybe set those upstairs.

All right.

[gasps]

[whip-poor-wills chant]

[Tane, screaming] Honor! Loa!

I guess this is where you go

after the portrait gallery.

Shouldn’t they be in a cemetery?

[sighs]

Not necessarily. This was their home.

They loved it and wanted to be buried here;

It’s their choice.

I don’t like it.

Come. Let’s go to town.

♪♪♪

How’s the writing coming?

I’ve got a hundred bad ideas

and not a single good one.

Emerson writes for the Atlantic Monthly.

So do Longfellow and Stowe.

[sighs] Who am I?

Rebecca Morgan, and you’re a writer.

You always have been.

I believe in you;

So does this editor, Mr. Lowell.

Yeah, but an entire story in only four weeks?

It’s too much pressure.

I’m making a coffin liner for the Albrikes family.

Old Gerald succumbed to the illness yesterday.

Maybe you should write about that?

Are those the new Boones?

Good day.

I’ll meet you back at the house, Mother.

Please.

No, Rebecca, wait!

Have faith, Rose.

Edward.

Your daughter will pull through.

With all respect, Minister, your wife lost two of her own.

Treating illness with faith doesn’t give me much comfort.

What does “quarantine” mean?

“Quarantine” means there’s someone very sick inside.

Well, what do we have here?

I don’t know what they are. They sure ain’t white.

Probably fled the reservation.

Was he talking about us?

He was.

Why?

Well, because… because you don’t look like him.

He wants you to feel embarrassed about being different.

Now, if everyone’s finished shopping,

let’s meet in front of the bakery.

Can we each get a cookie?

You can each have two. Go.

[children laughing]

Good day. May I speak with the constable, please?

George!

Someone to see you.

Constable.

My name is Charles Boone.

Is it?

Yes.

Um, my family and I moved

into our home yesterday at Chapelwaite

and, um, we found it ransacked.

Floors were torn up, the furniture broken.

People here don’t like Chapelwaite, Mr. Boone.

So they’re free to vandalize it?

If I were you, I would sell the mill.

Take what you can and go.

Well, I have other plans.

You might think twice with children.

What’s going on here, constable?

Your family has a reputation, Mr. Boone.

Stephen was a part of that, as was his father Phillip.

They were strange, unpredictable men.

Not good people.

I’m afraid you’ll find few friends in Preacher’s Corners.

They practically threw a parade

when your cousin hanged himself.

Tane.

What are you doing?

There’s a ball.

Come out of there.

Someone killed my bunny.

[gasps]

Did you do this?

No!

Father gave her to me when I got sick.

You’re sick?

Tane! Come here!

What’s wrong with her?

I don’t know.

Stay back. She’s not well.

Oh, Susan!

Stay away, kids.

You are not to be out. You know that.

♪♪♪

[horse snorting]

What is it, boy?

[horse snorting nervously]

[Mrs. Cloris] Mr. Boone?

The girls have finished cleaning.

Thank you.

Um… Have you spoken with the girls

about the governess position?

I have. None are inclined.

Mrs. Cloris.

You said that Stephen died of grief.

I would have preferred you were more specific.

If you heard Stephen took his own life, that’s true.

I was only trying to protect his reputation.

Thank you for that.

This is a sad house, Captain.

No Boone has ever been happy here.

Well, we’ll be the first.

Can I help you?

Mr. Boone, my name is Rebecca Morgan.

I hear you’re looking for a governess.

We are. Are you experienced with children?

I was one myself once.

But I also lived with a family while studying in Massachusetts.

I helped with the children in exchange for room and board.

Wonderful. Well, please come in.

I must warn you,

my two daughters and son all have equal say in who we hire.

And another part of my job

would be to supplement your education.

If you’ve never been to school,

you may benefit from a bit of extra tutoring.

Mother taught us mathematics and how to read.

Oh, you learned from the Bible?

She did. We read the Brontes and Hawthorne.

Hm.

And “The Three Musketeers.”

“Never fear quarrels, but seek hazardous adventures.”

I believe you and I may share the same adventurous spirit.

There are subjects to explore

that you may not be exposed to in Preacher’s Corners.

Philosophy, art, music.

I learned those at college.

I didn’t know women could go to college.

They can.

I went to Mount Holyoke in Massachusetts.

How about we make a deal? I’ll introduce you

to some of the things I learned in college

and you can teach me about your culture

and all the wonders you’ve seen.

[Rebecca and the children chatter indistinctly]

[Rebecca and the children laughing]

I hope I have the opportunity to get to know you all better.

Father?

Mm.

Come in.

Well?

I don’t think Loa wants her.

Loa?

You have a say in this.

Just have to voice it.

All aye?

[Tane and Honor] Aye.

All opposed?

Well, the ayes have it.

Thank you for the opportunity.

And I’ll return in the morning with my things.

My kids, uh,

they know books and ships,

but they’ll require more help than they think navigating land.

Um, Mr. Boone, your daughter Loa.

The quiet one…

She speaks.

Not since her mother passed.

I imagine she will when she’s ready.

I should accompany you.

It’s… it’s late.

Oh, I’m fine.

[whip-poor-wills chant]

Whip-poor-wills.

Good night, Mr. Boone.

Good night.

[rattling, scurrying]

♪♪♪

[rattling, scurrying resume]

[rattling, scurrying resume]

[rattling, scurrying resume]

[Rebecca] The chant of the whip-poor-will

is the voice with which the man

and the house call her.

An omen of death, they say.

[footsteps]

Flee the nightjars’ cry or risk…

Rebecca. I want to talk to you.

It’s late, Mother.

I know where you were.

I’ve been hired as the new governess of Chapelwaite.

Why would you do that? You…

I sent you to college

so you could make something of yourself.

You… you have an assignment for the Atlantic Monthly.

Don’t squander this opportunity.

I’m not. I already telegraphed my idea

to Mr. Lowell and he approved it.

There’s only one good story in town, Mother.

Rebecca,

you do not want to make trouble with that family.

You may not believe everything that’s said,

but you’d be a fool to ignore it. Your father…

Father was Phillip Boones’ lawyer

and he lived in fear of the man. I am aware.

You have to trust me. I know what I’m doing.

Good night, Mother.

[Mother sighs]

[metal scraping]

Excuse me, young man, what’s your name?

Able Stewart.

You’ve been keeping the ledger since my cousin’s death.

You must be the new Mr. Boone.

I am.

It’s nice to meet you, sir.

Pleasure to meet you.

I’ve tried keeping the records best I can.

Sorry ’bout my writin’. I taught myself.

Well, I appreciate your efforts.

Which one of these men is Daniel Thompson?

It’s the large man on the right.

Good. [Clears throat]

Foreman, uh, Daniel Thompson.

That’s me.

I run this crew of vagabonds.

You’re the Captain?

Uh, “Mr. Boone” will do.

According to the ledger,

board feet are down 60% since my cousin’s passing.

Why aren’t these men out working?

Well, they were. This is our break.

Ah.

It’s also noted that, uh,

everyone has seen a wage increase

all except for Able Stewart here.

Why is that?

I really couldn’t tell you now.

What’s this?

Your severance.

Take it and leave.

Or cut me 600 board feet by end of today

and every day hereafter.

That an order, “Captain”?

I give orders at sea.

On land I give choices.

Listen clearly, now.

I have plans for this mill.

We’re expanding.

From here out, we run this mill like a whaler.

Profit is gonna be divided into a 100-part lay.

Loggers earn two parts. Foreman three.

Owner takes 30.

The more you cut, the more you earn.

Questions?

Well, then, get to work.

[indistinct chatter]

What’s the lay for the tool keep, sir?

One lay.

Add another two for keeping the ledger.

I noticed some unpaid bills charged to Jerusalem’s Lot.

Is that not my family’s old mining town?

It is.

Huh.

Thank you, Able.

If you’d like, I can help you make scary costumes

for All Hallow’s Eve?

What can we be?

Anything.

Ghouls, ghosts, gypsies.

What do we do on All Hallow’s Eve?

Oh, we walk door to door in town

and people give us money and food.

Oh, and there’s also games.

One of them is, um, with mirrors

where you can see your future husband.

Another is with a pendulum

where you can speak to spirits.

That’s my favorite.

Now, the idea is that the pendulum leads us to a spirit.

And if we see a spirit, it has to grant us a wish.

If we know the spirit, can we speak to it?

Of course.

North, south, east, west,

wake up, spirit, from your rest.

Winter, spring, summer, fall.

Let us see you, hear our call.

This way!

Let us see you, hear our call!

This way. Keep an eye out.

Shh…

Do you see anything?

Anything?

Boo!

[all scream]

[laughs]

I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I had to.

[gasping in relief]

Did a spirit do that?

It’s just a draft.

[bird cry, thud]

[gasps]

What was that?

Whip-poor-will.

Oh, poor thing.

[metallic chiming]

That door’s supposed to be locked!

Something’s down there.

[Tane] I don’t like this game.

And that’s all it is. Just a game.

Mr. Fletcher?

[door slams]

Let’s go back to the parlor.

♪♪♪

[Rebecca] What is a ghost?

Is it a presence that prowls our bed chambers

when we turn down the lights?

Or is it a memory

that roams the dark corridors of our mind?

[knocking]

One moment.

Ah.

Mr. Boone.

May I speak with you privately?

Of course.

Uh, I’ve reprimanded Mr. Fletcher

for leaving the cellar door unlocked.

Oh.

But I’m…

I still have three children very afraid in their beds.

Oh. [Sighs]

I see.

Miss Morgan, I am aware

you’re trying to bond with the children,

and I appreciate that, but

well, they’re still acclimating

to the loss of their mother and the new house.

And, well, perhaps no more

games associated with spirits or ghosts.

I was trying to share a little seasonal fun,

but my efforts were misguided.

I’m sorry.

Thank you. No.

Good… good evening.

Mr. Boone.

Tomorrow is Sunday.

Yes.

I was wondering if we might consider

taking the children to church?

I don’t think so.

I’m not one for religion myself.

The church is a frequent tool of intimidation

and promotes the repression of women.

But this is small-town Maine,

and people talk.

Sir, your children are wonderful,

but I know what it’s like to be unique

in a town that doesn’t always favor individuality.

Sometimes it’s easier to fit in.

Well… you may be right.

Thank you, Miss Morgan.

[church bell ringing]

[indistinct greetings]

Good morning, Grace.

Good morning, Alice.

How are you? Good morning.

Hat off, thank you.

Good morning.

Good morning, Alice.

I’d like to introduce you to Charles Boone

and his children.

How do you do?

Ah, my name is Alice Burroughs.

My husband is minister of this congregation.

Nice to meet you.

My father would like to speak with you.

This used to be his church.

All right.

Please, this way.

We’ll wait.

Captain, this is my father, Samuel Gallup.

Sir.

Mr. Boone.

How do you do?

My father noticed that there isn’t enough seating

for our regular members,

some of whom are quite old.

We’re happy to stand.

It isn’t that.

You’re asking us to leave?

Mr. Boone, your children

are they Christian?

They are as much or as little Christian

as they choose to be, sir.

We prayed we’d seen the last Boone.

And why is that?

Because your family is a plague on this town.

Well, that’ll be enough, sir.

Now, I don’t know what happened between you and my family,

but neither myself nor my children were a part of that.

We want nothing more than a fresh start here.

I’m sorry to disappoint you.

♪♪♪

We’re leaving. Let’s go.

Go! Tane!

Did we do something wrong?

Loa! Come! Now!

Loa! Come on! Now!

[gasps]

Shame on you.

[door shuts]

Sorry about church.

That’s not your fault.

Samuel Gallup called my family a plague.

Samuel Gallup is a crabby old Puritan.

Hmm. It’s more than that.

Some blame Chapelwaite for the illness in town.

The first afflicted were two stable hands

who worked here for your cousin.

Both died. That was two years ago.

Since then, five have been planted in the church graveyard.

But that’s hardly proof.

If it were, I wouldn’t be here.

What’s Loa doing?

She wants to be alone.

So I should leave her then, right?

Absolutely not.

Oh.

[exhales] I lost my temper earlier.

I…

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.

But you need to mind me.

♪♪♪

I understand why you blame me.

I do.

Your mother never would’ve gotten sick

if she’d stayed on the island.

Your leg never would’ve withered from rickets.

But she was so strong, your mother.

She… insisted on coming.

She demanded we were a family.

I miss her, too.

I miss her, but

you can’t stay silent forever.

There’s something inside that you hide from us.

It scares me.

When my father got sick, Doctor Guilford said,

“Burn his clothes. Burn the bedding.”

Well, it didn’t do shit, but it was the right idea.

Let’s send these new Boones packing

before they inflict their own wickedness on us.

What about you, Edward?

Your little Susan’s sick. Who’s next?

Burn it then.

Do it.

♪♪♪

[grunts]

[door squeaks]

Susan!

I need you to go back in the house.

It’s cold out here.

[whip-poor-wills chant]

♪♪♪

[Rebecca] I could leave tonight and no one would fault me.

I could fabricate a pale fiction

of these Boones and their trial.

Who would know but me?

But therein lies the hook.

For alone in the dark,

me is who I answer to.

Hidden within the crude timbers of this dark manor

lies the truth.

I can feel it.

Outside this house,

fear gathers,

and ignorance spreads from home to home like the illness.

[horses walking]

[oil sloshing]

[whip-poor-wills singing]

[horse snorts]

Who goes there?

[grunts]

[frantic breathing]

[cries out]

[man screams]

[Rebecca] What drove this bloodline to its tragic depths?

Suicide, murder, madness.

[sighs]

[Rebecca] To know the truth of Chapelwaite,

I must know the mystery of Charles Boone.

[sighs]

[glass breaks]

[groans]

[gasping]

[Charles’ father] It’s coming!

The worm!

[sighs]

♪♪♪

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