 tired of the everyday grind, ever dream of a life of romantic adventure, want to get away from it all, we offer you escape. Escape. Designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. Sparklet. Permit me to refuse the money. Permit me to return to the matter of the Yankee merchandise. Josh just told you, poet, we sold out our stock of shirts, our ties, our stock. You are the men who have a catch and have saved the Caribbean from me and me. Yes sir, we're the men who have a catch and have failed. That's who we are, poet, and you? So it is a simple matter then. Since you are these men, it is a simple matter. We will make arrangements for the removal of the merchandise. Now look, Mr. Renee, my name, permit me, that is my name. Thanks. It's this way Renee, my understanding of things poetic is a little shaky these days. Mine too. Yes too. Are you trying to be clever? Or perhaps it pleases you to tweak my patience. The merchandise. Permit me, but the merchandise. When shall we remove it from your boat? Mr. Renee, I simply have got to explain something to you. It's evident that you're a mistake. We are not mistaken. You have been much a nice... We would be if Renee had fun farewell, Josh. He needs to keep his head covered for the taking of time. But this is a matter of...no, you cannot! The merchandise! You cannot refuse about the merchandise! You cannot refuse! When I walked down, I looked over my shoulder and saw Renee's face become suddenly gray, suddenly old, and then a blur fading into the crowd that swarmed the narrow streets. Episodes of the dream trip. Cockfight followed by native poet making Calypso on a type of merchandise that didn't exist. Poet. Also dealer in intangible souvenir to be stored away. Anecdote to regale the young ladies of New Kensington, Pennsylvania in our return. When the dream money ran out from the place to come back to was New Kensington, CA. But now unguided tour of Port-au-Prince and a side street you never believed you'd walk. I like what we're doing. I like where we are. Me too. Yes, sir, me too. It's all around here. It's wonderful. It's a no-regret. Ah, Josh, you mean we gave up a nice-going habit-assery business and took off? That's what I mean. I talked you into it. No regrets, sir. What do you mean you talked me into it? This idea, this dream, if you will. I will, I will. I remember this very minute, the night it germinated in my brain. We were sitting in the dorm of the good old University of Pittsburgh stripped of the waste. It being a hot night prior to graduation and a bottle of beer in the hand. And you said, Haiti, someday let's buy a boat, you said. See? You can see it was my idea. Sure, sure it was, Josh. Then you said, Haiti. And I said, Haiti. Why? The Citadel. What about it? Just I got to see it, that's all. The Citadel of Henri Christophe. Ever since I was a kid, I've been reading about it, and one will see it. Where? That's something I got to explain to your kid. A couple of fellas like us, they hid a new country after an ocean voyage. You know they need time to condition themselves, become acclimated, mingle with the group, you know, meet some of... Am I reading on the subject of young women of Haiti? Yeah. I have read that the young women of Haiti are sheltered in circumspect, and a formal introduction arranged by a mutual friend or acquaintance is the etiquette to be followed when a visiting gentleman has the wish on me where it says. Right, I was... I just want to make sure you and me... Yeah. Visiting gentlemen, that's what. Le Café de Pavillon de Toulon. I don't change the subject, right? What? Le Café de Pavillon de Toulon. Translation, Café de Pavillon de Toulon de Toulon. Oh, my, oh, my. Oh, you feel okay? The heat, the excitement of the new... Let's dine over the café there. Come on, George, let's go get Moon's drug. I want to. I'm glad I said what I said. I'm graduating from the University of Pittsburgh. After me, kid. Bartender! Who plays the years, Miss Scherf? The pleasure presents no problem, Bartender. First, we want rum. Who are we, Miss Scherf? Right. Hush, kid. Let there be hush. Leave the bottle, Bartender. We made it, kid. We made the dream a toast, huh? Sure, Hater. I love you. The death of Lean, Toussaint, and the jeweled Bay of Garnay, and to the jungle mysteries and the delights of them, and to the jungle mysteries and the delight. Hey, you turn a phrase, Miss Scherf. Then may I propose to another term. Be our guest. To the young lady who sits there, where, at the tavern in shadow, and before they've carried sunshine across her cheek. There, you see? I see. Oh, my, oh, my. Where? Where? I don't see her. Where are I? Show me, too. You could look upon her with near, man. I could. I'm just a chap who could. Come then. She has whispered it to me. Bring them to me. Bring the voyagers to me what I whispered. Why, where? Lady whispered, Josh. That's a call I've been waiting for. Why? Bring the bottle, Josh. Oh, now I see her. Oh, I'll bring the bottle. After you, Miss Scherf. Pepe. After you, Pepe. The voyagers for whom you have whispered. No, Miss Scherf. Speak yourself with bb, Miss Scherf, before they near me. Oh, thank you very much. Yeah. I'm Josh Ford from New Kensington, PA, and this is my buddy, Ryan Dixon. He's from New Kensington, too. At present, sir, we're a retired habit, actually. I am bb, and I've longed for the time of our meeting. Pepe. Are we? You did a splendid job of greeting us. And you no longer have a need for me. And we no longer have a need for you. Then I shall make my small departure. No hard feelings, Pepe. It's just a fact. Till another fee. Yeah, yeah. Till then. You were lonesome for us, bb, for both of us. The moon was full and it grew slender. For the passage of this time, I've longed for you. You don't even know us, bb. We live thousands of miles apart in different worlds. How could you? Josh, you ever been in New Kensington, bb? University of Pittsburgh? Josh, what the man's else said? Went for your boat. And the things of your boat, for these two, I have longed for. You talk in puzzles, miss, bb. I don't. The merchandise of your boat. Bb, a poet of your country said merchandise to us. We gave him a bucket of tired subjects that isn't worth a nickel more. You have sold it into the other. We haven't sold a thing. We gave him a dollar. And I don't mind telling you, the budget we've got worked out for this trip is. Then it is a matter of more money. Could be. More money for what, bb? A glass. Bargainers. We're not haggling, lady. All we got on our boat is a few supplies. Some canned fruit juices and cans of dried beef. You want some? When I don't have more money for the merchandise of your boat, my amy, we will pay it. And there will be no delay. Bb, we started out real good together. And suddenly, uh, Josh, how do you tell a beautiful girl she's lousy and everything? Well, the room at the end of the passageway is there. It is where I shall be, with the more money. In ten minutes, be there, at last. She moved away from us, and she moved like some uncalling phrase of primitive melody. It took her maybe a half minute to cross the floor and vanish behind a glass bead curtain that made small songs as she moved through it. That left maybe nine and a half minutes to toast the many things above, bb, that were worth drinking to. And then all that was left was to find out what it was all about. Room at the end of the passageway upstairs, she said. You know what I think? No, I don't. I think she's got her confused with somebody else. Couple of entirely different fellows. I said I heard you. It's funny you got her missed. Funny. First, a native poet, a big song of ants about some merchandise we haven't got. And there's a bb. What merchandise we're supposed to have, right? Cry. Yeah. Had noise. It's already happened to us once today. But now it's inside. Hey, I came from down there. That's where she went. In lines of blood crisscross bb's face and throat like some abstract design and horror. The new twist on death in the afternoon, young lady, beautiful young lady, slashed to death by the spurs of a game cock. The bird jumped to the window, still encroached to death once more. Pretty pink and blue sign, smiled, welcome to Haiti. There's a New Kensington, Pennsylvania, that you've got the world ahead of you. Keep in mind that anything is possible when you finally get to Haiti and come across a beautiful woman slashed to death by a fighting bird bred to kill, except it's men run. Like Josh and I did three blocks until a sign said, hotel of seven sisters, fans in every room. We paid for one night in advance. The sign wasn't kidding, there was a fan. This one you grasped in the hand waved back and forth under the chin, creating refreshment and letting the sound of the island drift in through the open window. We're strangers in a strange country, baby. Who knows what we're supposed to do? Anybody who dies is a concern of... I'll get it. Look who, the poet. Come in, come in. How'd you find us? I inquired of two Americans running in the noon date. Why are you looking for us? An explanation of the events of the Cafe de Pavillon de Telluna. The killing of the girl, Bibi, was a mistake. She, her permit me, what is the hour? Almost 2.30. A good, good, an excellent time. For a punctual competitor of mine, we'll arrive in a moment and the deal will be consummated. You're throwing it again, Renae, you're talking red light. Oh, forgive me, like so. The merchandise you have brought, those of us across the water there, the small way across the water, we wait for the guns, so guns, they find the way to purchase human dignity. Born, huh? Get the picture? This guy's a revolutionary. Hey, you're a real revolutionary, aren't you? You think we've got guns for a revolution or something? You know what I'm gonna say in New Kensington? They're gonna... Josh, Renae, what about the girl? Why did that beautiful girl have to die like that? Ah, Bibi, unfortunate. Like so. She won't give it because, oh, permit me, the competitor to whom we are expecting. Well, tell them it's like so. Somebody's got our boat mixed up with somebody else's, huh? Renae. My intention, quickly, quickly now, come. Now, listen here. Or you will lie down beside this man, also dead, quickly. Where are we going? Quickly, quickly. I asked you. Pistol barrels, lacerate, so now, quickly. The front side of his gun had cut my cheek, and there was nothing to do but put my hand to it. He prodded us outside. The men in goatee, US Army surplus, and German Luger into a waiting cab. Unhappy driver looked at my cheek, and then at the upholstery, and then shrugged about the whole thing. He'd better take us somewhere, or he can get his cheek attended to. He said, my friend, Josh. Sure. Sure, sure, sure. It was the stir my friend, Josh, created. In a while, the bleeding stopped. We got out in the park, where it was no longer Port-au-Prince, where it became the apron of jungle around the city. A mansion of columns and glazed brick and flamingos looking coy behind royal palms. A butler in knee breeches told us we were late, that everybody was in the auditorium. A private theater, gentlemen, that you may watch if you wish. I'll tell Etienne you're here. Etienne? Well, who's he? You try to make a break from here. You'll be shot down before... What part of a name is that? Etienne. In there. In there. In there. Boudot. Native dance Haitian style. Thank you, gentlemen. Who wouldn't be that impressed? As you appear to be, I mean. They're all of them professional dancers. Twenty dollars each for the performance. So are you. You're close. Etienne? Yes. This way, please. And you're the man who can tell us... About the BB. About Rene. You... It's about guns. It's all on the state. I know, I know. Somebody got our boat mixed up with... I know, I know. In here. What's the matter? Why are you looking so unhappy about it? How to tell you what I must. It'd be crazy if we tried to run, wouldn't we? Oh, yes. You'd be shot down like the poet was. With no sadness. You are innocent, you see. Rene was not an enemy. As also was the girl. They have their cars. We have ours. And both of you after the gun. We have them. They came on another boat. Not to you. What am I supposed to say? Use them in good health? It's just that nothing like this is... Well, we don't know what... You don't realize what's happening to you, now do you? A little bit. The sliced cheek I have. Yes, yes, that's an indication. The reason, of course, I haven't offered you a physician or even iodine should be coming up talent now. Correct me. Josh and I know there's a thing about guns. About a revolution coming up close by. Also about two mothers. And you can't let us go. I don't mind telling you. I am a patriot. Murder is necessary. It seems it goes with the word. We will have to take you far away. And you must be lost forever. Please try to understand. Said with grave concern. And the door opened, some men walked in. And would pick us up at the hotel and two others. Also looking grave. Also looking concerned. Tight fitting dark suit. So tight you could almost tell the caliber of guns the bulge has made. We went then on a boat ride. A boat called Bumba. Look, look there. The Citadel. Floating on a sea of tropic moon. The Citadel of Henri Christophe. Ever since I was a kid, Ryan. Ever since you were a kid. You admire our citadel? Listen again. Of course. The Citadel is practically all we came to see in Haiti. We're getting a fine view now. Really, all of it we want. So why don't you say the word to turn this boat around? Yeah, it is saying the dead outside. Now look, yours will be privileged. You will die a hero's death in the cause of human dignity. Human dignity. The poet used the same word. On opposite sides in both of you using the same slogan. Regretful. Regretful. Regretful. The both of you now onto the ground. And this is where... Quickly, quickly. Move quickly. And if you didn't have that gun, I have it. Straight ahead. One thing I'd want before this is over. Two or three, the Citadel. Yeah. Josh. Uh-huh. We can't just let them shoot us down and leave us here to rot in a sinkhole like this. You think we ought to make a break for it? I would say so. Listen, just before we hit that clearing up ahead. You there. You too. If you are discussing running away, you will be shot like pigs. Right. I still think we ought to try. Uh-huh. Like now? Right. Josh! A man who stood ankles deep in the sticky waters was the man we had seen before, Petley. A man in a bar called the Pavilion of the Small Moon. A man who had taken us to beating. You too recognize me, I can't say. A bandolier of bullets over his shoulder the snout of his submachine gun sniffing a circle at our belt buckle. A chin the others who had brought us here face-deep in the mud. A brown marsh water washing their blood away slow. Very slow. Eventually I knew they had to come here where the guns are cached. See, those cases. The guns, the cause of everything. Boy, are we glad to see you. Truly? I like the way you said that. What do you have in mind? These. These are my slaves. They were going to kill you. Correct? They said it wasn't because we'd been nice to be being a poet but because... You were nice to them? Well, sure. My artistry was kindest for you both for they were my friends. I asked you something. What do you have in mind? Surely you know. You must die. Words must not leak out of what happened here. These are the guns. These are the killings. Right? Yeah. Listen, you. What? A favor. Huh? All you have to do is take a look at the Citadel. Hey, mate, there it is. Look. My friend here, he wants to take a look up close. This was his dream trip, the Citadel of Henri Christophe, his dream place. I see. No, he... A gene monument built by a crazy king. You see all those cannons pushed through those embrasures? That's the set. You see all those cannons? What about them? Not one ever fired. You know what else? What else, Josh? This was built on an exact line with a great pyramid of Egypt and a great pyramid built by the mayors of Central America. That way. Enough. Look down. Christophe used to force his slaves to jump from this park. He enjoyed their screams. Will you scream? I don't think so. Good. Please do not believe I am vile, messieurs. You were unlucky enough to stumble on a small wall. Neither side can afford your staying alive. Bitter. Some pity. Alive. Oh, dead from a bullet. Junk. Now, hold it a second. One more word with my friend. Josh. What do you want? All of it. Your fault. Mine? Leaving the business. The boat. Haiti, all of it. How can you talk like that? In a citadel. What is it? Brick and moss. Hope you get a nice view of the East Wing on the way down. You know what you are? A child. A birdbrain of a child. You're not going to talk to me like that. Oh, are you miserable? You got it so better than that. Oh, Mr. Mary, catch the fire before you die. I'm okay. You? Okay. What about him? Time up. Leave him. I don't know something. All right. What? You see that over there? What over there? That slag. What about it? That family Christmas tomb. He was buried there. Look what he was killed. Right over there. Something, isn't it? Really something. Boy. Escape has brought you Night of the Guns, a story written and directed by David Friedkin and Morton Fine. Featured in the cast were Herb Ellis, Byron Kane, Jack Prussian, and Jay Novello. Also heard were Lillian Bayef, Chep Mankin, John Dana, and Paula Pascal. You're an author, George Walsh. The special music for Escape is composed and conducted by Leith Stevens. Next week. We're adrift in a native canoe somewhere up the Solomon Islands. Ahead of you by the unknown terrors of native savagery. And closing in on you is a white man whose gunboat will smash you to the bottom of the sea. So listen next week when Escape brings you John Russell's story, The Price of the Head.