More search montaging: this time Cissy's under the pier, rousting homeless dudes. We can't really hear what she's saying, but the closed-captioning tells me it's something along the lines of "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" And you would think that one of these guys would respond with something like, "You know, lady, that approach may work with your immediately family and friends. But I've spent the last five years drinking turpentine-and-rum-based cocktails, so my synapses are pretty fried and my grip on what is and is not acceptable behavior is fairly tenuous. So I suggest a more pleasant tone of voice." Strangely, none of the homeless dudes says this, at least not according to the closed-captioning. The montage continues with Cissy flagging down Shaun's surfer friends and soliciting their help, while Vietnam Joe stops by the VFW and fills in one of the guys having a smoke outside as to what's going down. The young surfers get more people to help, and the VFW guy is stopping people and telling them too. And they tell two friends and they tell two friends, and so on and so on and so on. No, really -- a community is really beginning to form here, which seems to be one of the larger themes John From Cincinnati is getting at, and it's nice to sort of understand what's going on for once.
The montage having reached its conclusion, we join Dr. Smith and Cunningham confronting their demons inside the Snug Harbor's bar already in progress. Dr. Smith is standing at a billiards table, casually rolling the cue ball back and forth; Cunningham is standing nearby, his shoulders hunched over and his eyes fixed downward. Dr Smith explains that when he and Barry crossed paths just now, he was on his way back from the clinic he leased across the street. "I had gotten scared there. In an examining room," Dr. Smith continues. "I'd been imagining days to come, the people I'd be caring for, their gratitude for a physician of my credentials choosing to work with the poor and underserved." Cunningham's face is streaked with tears; this may or may not be related to the fact that the decaying corpse of Mr. Rollins is still sitting in the bar staring at him. But Dr. Smith doesn't seem to notice this: "The day before, standing in that room," he continues, "I'd felt that I had heard those patients' voices thanking me. And not hearing them today, I saw that the room was ramshackle and dirty." He takes Cunningham's hand, which causes Cunningham to stop staring in the ghost's direction. "Not hearing the hallelujah soundtrack frightened me," Dr. Smith says to Barry. "Made me run." He smiles: "I'd better get that place opened up." Cunningham's face begins to brighten. Over at the bar, Shaun -- yes, he's still in the bar, too -- turns to Cunningham and gives him the hang loose sign. "Shall we go?" Dr. Smith asks Cunningham, who nods. Garret Dilahunt, ladies and gentlemen -- the heart and soul of John From Cincinnati.