Original subtitles

ALLISON: Looks pretty tempting, doesn't it?

But what if I told you

that each one of these delicious little morsels

has almost a thousand calories?

Would it make you want one any less?

Me, neither.

And that's normal.

We all want things that we know are bad for us.

Everyone has dangerous fascinations

and unhealthy fixations.

Some of them are a little harder to explain than others.

But most us know how to keep our impulses in check.

We use willpower to fight off our darker instincts.

Unfortunately, for others,

willpower just isn't enough.

The siren call of one's own obsessions

is simply too strong to resist.

The thing we used to want...

...becomes the thing we now need.

Our obsession becomes our compulsion.

Until eventually we realize

pursuing the one thing we want most in life

has left us without much of a life at all.

But in the end,

our compulsions are still there.

Even after they've pushed us to the brink of death,

or guided us

into places of unimaginable horror.

(gasps and sighs)

(man speaking on TV)

JOE: Okay. Don't be mad.

I know, I know they're for that bake sale

at Bridgette's school, but what can I say?

I couldn't resist.

-You want some? God, no.

I'm going to bed.

What?

It was a cupcake.

Okay. Now you try.

What are you doing?

What's she doing?

What are you making her do?

I'm not making her do anything.

She likes it.

Don't you like it?

Don't just stand there.

You know, fold some more.

Bridgette, that's your job.

You're supposed to fold the laundry.

That's why you have an allowance.

It's not my job.

It's my responsibility.

And I'm keeping that responsibility.

I'm just outsourcing, that's all.

It's no big deal.

Everybody's doing it.

Mom!

Sorry. Not Mom.

Feel free to continue fighting till she gets here.

Dad, Bridgette's making Marie do her work folding the laundry.

Nuh-uh. She asked me how to fold socks. That's all.

And underwear.

And towels, and how to put them in drawers.

You are such a liar.

Okay, well, maybe she didn't ask about the drawers.

Hey, Marie, did you ask Bridgette any of that?

You are never moving out of that bottom bunk!

Hey, what is all the noise about?

Why isn't anybody eating?

Why-Why is all this laundry still not folded?

And Bridgette, why are your books not in your bag?

(paper unfolding) What is this?

I don't know.

(sighs): It's a week old, and it's marked urgent.

Well, then I guess it wasn't really very urgent, was it?

Tomorrow's Parent-Teacher conference has been rescheduled.

You're kidding! I rearranged a meeting

so I could make that.

ARIEL: And I already told Mr. Sacks

that I can't make rehearsal 'cause I have to baby-sit.

Bridgette!

It's not even 7:00,

and I'm already having a bad feeling about today.

You know, I don't care.

Dad's got to go to work. I just got a text.

I got to meet Scanlon downtown.

We're gonna talk about punishment later.

We've got to get breakfast going.

Nice work, doofus.

Well, I suppose there's a bright side to all this.

We all have a free night.

Every single one of us all here at the same time.

No meetings, no rehearsal.

You're right, Dad! That's great news!

It's not that great.

(siren blaring, garbled radio transmission)

SCANLON: Security guard stumbled across the body.

We're thinking it happened last night.

Looks like they used a baseball bat or a pipe.

Normally, I'd start by asking his family and friends

if he had any enemies.

Of course, to do that,

I'd have to have the first clue who this guy is.

No wallet?

Actually, it was right there in his pocket.

Only problem is, every piece of ID he's carrying is fake.

Check out his fingers.

No fingerprints.

Who do you think did this?

I'm guessing since he's carrying all that fake ID,

that his very severe mani is just part of the package.

This is a guy who clearly didn't want anyone

to know who he really was, which is why I called you.

MAN: Coming through, Detective.

(grunts)

I was hoping maybe you'd see him,

and, you know, get some feeling, have some instinct...

Yeah.

...about who-who he guy is, where he came from.

Who might have done this.

Allison, you with me?

Yeah. Of course.

If I see anything, I'll call you.

Hey, Lee, you see... you see this old microwave over here?

You think it's okay if I just, you know,

dig it out of the trash, take it home with me?

Tell you what. You help me figure out who, uh,

played percussion on this guy's noggin,

I'll even buy you a new one.

JOE: Mr. Brewer?

What you doing?

You gunning for my job?

You trying to be an early bird or something?

Hmm.

I don't like it.

Ambition.

Initiative.

Makes me nervous.

I-I'm sorry. It won't happen again.

I couldn't sleep.

I kept thinking about the problem with the...

with the contact grid.

I know we've been going around

and around this for the past three weeks,

but, uh, you know, suddenly at 3:00 this morning,

I had a, uh...

This just came to you?

Well, the concept.

I got in here about an hour

and a half ago, and I started working on the engineering.

Well...

This-This is amazing.

Okay.

Now I'm officially threatened by your intellect.

Hey, what are you and Debbie doing for dinner tomorrow night?

I mean, are you busy? Do you have plans? Are you...?

I've been talking to my wife about having you guys over

since you got here, like, a month and a half ago.

Hello!

Gooey red stuff.

What did I miss? Spaghetti?

Ketchup for, uh, take-out.

Okay. Where is everybody?

Where?

It's, uh, late, Dad.

I put Bridgette and Marie down,

and, uh, Mom went out to work in the garage.

Work in the garage?

(crickets chirping, dog barking)

Al?

ALLISON: Back here!

Hi.

Ariel said you were in here.

What's going on?

What are you doing?

What are you working on?

I don't know.

You're gonna... you're gonna think it's silly.

Looks like you're trying to take apart an old microwave.

That's exactly what I'm doing.

I'm taking apart an old microwave.

You know, I found this thing in the trash

at the crime scene this morning,

and I suddenly got really curious

about the way these things work.

What do you mean? Just ask me.

They use, uh, radio waves to create a kind of radiation.

That creates excitement in the molecules

in the food, and that causes them to heat up,

and that makes it cook.

You know we have one of these in the kitchen.

Well, not an old one like this.

You know, I just want to look inside,

see how it does it.

How you put food inside, it comes out hot,

but then the oven stays cool.

Did you eat?

David and I ordered in.

That reminds me.

Hey, don't be mad.

I invited he and his wife Debbie over tomorrow night for dinner.

It's time, Allison.

The guy relocated here with his family

almost two months ago.

Yeah, fine. I'll make a roast.

Do they eat meat?

Yeah, he sure does.

I mean, boy, can he engineer.

I mean, what a find.

Um, couldn't you find a less gross-looking microwave?

I mean, it looks like you can catch a disease from that thing.

I'll be in in a minute.

All right, fine.

I've been kicked out of bed nicer than that.

I'll see you in a couple of minutes.

See you in a couple of minutes.

(coughing)

Do you know that it's almost 3:00 in the morning?

Hey, hey.

Do you have any idea how much heat this thing can generate?

Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do.

I would say roughly enough to bake a big potato

in about seven minutes. Can we go to bed?

Allison, you've been out here for almost six hours now.

I don't know what this fascination is

with small appliances, but you've got a big day tomorrow.

We both have big days.

We have people coming over for dinner.

Oh, my God.

What time did you say it was?

3:00, it's 3:00 in the morning.

I don't even...

I don't even know what to say.

I-I just suddenly got so fascinated with that thing,

I-I... I kind of... I kind of got lost in it.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

But only a single step is the beginning of a new dialogue...

between the United States...

(static crackling)

The search continues for Justice Heath Clemens,

a federal judge on the 12th Circuit Court,

who was reported missing yesterday afternoon.

Anyone with information on his whereabouts

is urged to contact the authorities immediately.

Arlo! You in there?!

Arlo, quit tinkering with that idiot box and come outside.

I got something I want to show you.

Dad, I just saw this man on the news.

They're looking for him.

-His name's, um... -He doesn't have a name!

No, he surrendered his right to an identity

on the day he was sworn onto that court.

The day he agreed to become another cog

in the machine that is systematically destroying

everything and anything

that was ever good about this country!

He's an extension of them.

A diseased limb.

You're a smart boy, Arlo.

You know what a doctor would do

with a diseased limb, don't you?

Dad, please don't...

You want to know what this... robot does with his life?

Yeah, he sits behind a bench all day

issuing rulings

that take away the rights o-of free citizens like you and me.

Yeah, he gets paid

to harass us,

to decide how we get to live our lives.

Now, tell me, does that sound like

th-the kind of government you want?

Is that the way you want your country run?

Dad, he's not the government.

He's just a man.

He's just a man trying to do his job.

I'm sorry. Wh-what was that last bit you said?

'Cause I think you were describing me.

(gasps)

Um, how are we supposed to eat this?

With a fork.

It's not what I mean.

You forgot the syrup.

It's all hard without the syrup.

-Here. -Ketchup?

All right, knock yourself out and help your sister, too.

(giggling): More, more!

All right, all right, I'm giving you more.

JOE: Unh-unh-unh-unh.

How are we doing over there?

Never better.

No urge to take apart the central air?

Figure out how it is the air comes in so hot,

but comes out so cold?

Is something going on?

Everything's fine.

I just... Mommy didn't get a lot of sleep last night,

and Daddy didn't get much either.

But everything's fine.

We still okay for tonight?

It's not too late to call it off.

I'll be fine. I'll be fine.

(sighing): I got to go down to City Hall, show Scanlon something.

Then I'm heading right to the store to go shopping.

Hey, girls,

when Ariel comes in, can you be sure to tell her

that she's got to clean her room?

We have company coming tonight.

I will be in the bathroom taking apart the shower.

I'm just kidding. Just kidding.

ALLISON: His name was Heath Clemens. He was a federal judge.

The police think someone abducted him

from his house in Needles, California.

June of '85.

So, what does any of this have to do with me?

Well, did you see the part where it said

they discovered his body a few weeks later in the desert,

and no one was ever arrested for the murder?

Yeah, I can read, Allison.

Well, the man who killed him,

the man I saw slit his throat

was the same man we discovered the other day,

laying in all that trash-- the one with no fingerprints.

And when you say "saw," what you really mean was...?

Dreamt.

What I really meant was dreamt.

Don't... don't start on me today.

I had three hours of sleep last night.

Okay, easy.

So what have we got?

We got a dead guy... no name.

Now, we got another dead guy from a long time ago

who you say he killed.

I guess that might explain

why he burned his own fingertips off.

Needles, California, I guess we could make a few calls,

send them a picture of our friend in the morgue.

See if anybody recalls him.

Well, he sounded like one of those,

those rightwing conspiracy nuts

who thinks the government is out to get them,

take away all their personal freedom.

And he had a son.

Well, he sounds like a pretty, uh, unique character.

Maybe someone will remember him.

*

*

I'm home!

(sighing): Hey...

What in God's...?

Did the dishwasher break?

What's going on?

Nope, it didn't break.

Mom insisted she needed some sheet metal screws

and the ones in the back of the dishwasher

were perfect.

Needed? Needed for what?

Where is Mom?

Where is dinner? People are coming over.

They're going to be here any minute.

Yeah, I know. I kept telling her.

What did she say?

She didn't say anything.

She just announced that she'd be in the garage,

working.

Allison?!

I'm back here!

What the hell is going on?

I'm soldering.

And I'm getting pretty good at it, too.

No, that's not what I mean, Allison.

People are on their way over.

There's nothing cooking in the oven.

The dishwasher is sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor.

You're not dressed. The kids aren't dressed.

Come on, what the hell are you doing?!

You know, I-I-I'm not quite sure,

but I was kind of hoping that you could tell me.

I think this thing really is going to work, whatever it is.

You set the timer here and then whenever that time runs out

this thing starts to get hot,

really, really hot,

but why and what that does, I-I'm not...

What is that smell?

What are you talking about? What smell?

It almost smells like a plumbing problem.

Allison?

Did you buy all this fertilizer?

I sure did. It took me five trips to get it here.

Can you tell me why?

You know, I'm not quite sure.

I mean, I know it's got something to do with this thing.

It wasn't something I planned to do.

I just... it came into my head, and I knew I had to have it.

Allison, I need you to step away from that thing right now.

All right, give me one second, honey.

No, no, time's up.

I need you to step away from that thing and come with me.

You know, if this is about this whole dinner thing,

I'm starting to think maybe we should reschedule.

What are you doing?

Put that down.

Get the hell away from that thing.

Get away from it and go in the house.

What the hell is your problem?

My problem? You want to know what my problem is?

Allison, this thing that you've been working on all day,

this is some kind of a-a timer.

It's some kind of a detonator.

And these bags...

The hundreds of pounds of fertilizer

that you brought into our house,

our house where we live, where our children live.

These would be your explosives.

Now, I may be crazy,

but I think you're minutes away

from having an uncontrollable urge

to rent a panel truck

and fill it with all this stuff and drive it

to a federal building somewhere!

(doorbell rings)

Oh, God. Okay, you know what.

On second thought, why don't you j-just continue doing

exactly what you're doing, okay?

Because, you know, if we're all dead

then maybe no one will notice that there's no dinner!

(panting): Hi. Sorry.

David, hi.

Debbie. Hello, Joe.

Hi.

Um, oh, God. This is so embarrassing. Um...

Are you okay? Is everything okay?

Yes. No, no. It's, um...

We've had a, um...

We've had a...

I'm so sorry. It's my fault.

Um, well, maybe "fault"" isn't the right word.

Um... Uh, it's me.

It... I have food poisoning.

That's Debbie, and, Allison, that's David.

Yeah, I'm Allison. It's nice to meet you.

I... It's nice that I'm... we just met.

Oh, no, no, please. You don't have to do that.

I-I I've been living in the bathroom for the last...

the last 45 minutes.

Which is, uh, you know, why...

that's why I'm not dressed.

And, you know, I've been in there cooking all day.

Uh, we would ask you in, but, uh...

(stammers): Yeah, it's like a bomb went off in there.

Or we would ask you to go

to a restaurant, or something...

Oh. I feel terrible for you.

Hey, I've been looking all over for you guys.

-Hey, hey. -Hey, uh...

This is Bridgette.

This is our middle daughter Bridgette.

-Say hi to the Brewers. -Uh, hi.

Do you guys know that it smells like a barn out in the garage?

Hey, we're going to take off.

-Yeah. -Um, but we brought this.

Oh, no, no, no. You don't have to do that.

I... I insist.

I just... maybe wouldn't drink it tonight.

(chuckles): Right.

All right, Dave. So long. I'm sorry.

It's nice to meet you, Debbie.

Okay, Bridgette, would you...

would you go and get ready for bed?

Daddy needs to talk to Mommy.

What are you doing?

I called the store.

They're open till 10:00.

So I'm loading up both cars.

We're taking all this back,

'cause I don't want it in the house, Allison.

I don't want it anywhere near the house.

Ariel can watch the girls.

You follow me in your car.

We'll get it done in a couple trips.

I can do this tomorrow.

Yeah... right.

Well, what does that mean?

That means that you built a bomb...

in our house, Allison.

In my children's house.

(sobbing quietly)

Now get in the car, please.

It's getting late.

Are you still awake?

You're kidding, right?

I think it's over.

I took apart that thing that I was building.

I threw all the pieces away.

Not even a twinge of regret.

And for what it's worth,

when we went back to that store,

nothing, nothing glowed.

I'm sorry,

but that's not reassuring enough.

I need you to promise me, if these urges

if these compulsions to... to build things

to acquire things, if they come back,

you have to call me...

you have to find me.

I'll come home. I'll hold you down.

I might call you just to test that.

I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry about tonight.

(sniffles)

So you got all this from the Needles Police Department?

The sheriff recognized the photo of our John Doe

as soon as he saw it.

Turns out this guy is actually Mitchell Slocumb.

Mitchell Slocumb... I know that name.

Well, I would hope so.

He certainly made enough news.

Back in 1985, he detonated a fertilizer bomb

in a parking garage beneath the federal courthouse

in Sacramento, California.

It was one of the first cases

of domestic terrorism in this country.

Seventeen people died.

Mitchell Slocumb wrote a letter claiming credit for the bombing.

Then he just disappeared.

That is, until now.

You okay?

Yeah, no, yeah.

I'm just... I'm surprised.

Anyway, this man's death

is gonna be big news, so before I talk to the media,

I just wanted to make sure you didn't have any new insights

into who might have killed him.

Although, to be perfectly frank,

I'm not sure if I prefer to prosecute his murderer

or recommend the guy for a commendation.

So nothing?

You feeling better today?

Yeah, thank you.

Can I have a word with you?

I started building that bomb two days ago,

just hours after I saw his body.

I have to believe that's more than just a coincidence.

So you think maybe that he was using you

to take care of some unfinished business?

He blew up a federal courthouse in 1985.

I work in a courthouse.

I drive my car into a courthouse garage every day.

Hmm. Okay.

Um, but you haven't called me,

so I'm assuming that you haven't felt the need

to buy anything, build anything, collect anything.

What are you doing?

Well, if we can't be absolutely positive

that Mitchell Slocumb won't get into your head again,

at least we can make sure that you don't have the means

to buy any more fertilizer for him.

A gallon of gas?

Hey. You all right?

Yeah. No... I'm fine.

It's a bad habit.

Debbie thinks I quit.

If she knew, she'd kill me.

You sure you're okay?

No, I'm okay.

It's family stuff.

It's just...

It's family stuff.

(teakettle whistling)

Explain.

Uh...

Don't lie to me. Don't lie to me!

Don't tell me it wasn't you.

You'll just make it twice as bad if you lie to me.

I just thought he deserved a decent burial...

I gave him what he deserved, Arlo.

I tried so hard to raise you right.

Look at me!

All you do is disappoint.

The problem with you, son,

is you keep forgetting we're at war here.

Me-- I got this to remind me.

I see it in the mirror every day and I remember.

Crawling through the mud and the puke at Khe Sanh.

I remember my boots filling with the blood

of young American boys,

whose daddies either weren't rich enough

or white enough to keep them out of a racist, classist draft.

I remember the stink of their corpses...

knowing that they died for nothing.

(sniffles)

Dad, what are you doing?

Like I said, Arlo,

we're at war.

Dad!

Now you'll have something to remind you.

Dad... Dad!

(screaming)

It was nice seeing you again, Allison.

I hope the next time you meet Debbie,

you'll keep my secret.

Somebody's been awfully quiet all night.

Well, somebody's in a real quandary.

Oh, really? You think so?

Have you not heard anything that I've said?

Yeah, I got it. He's a smoker.

(exaggerated gasp)

Me? I'm willing to look past it.

You know that's not what I'm talking about.

Seriously?

Because I don't think the other matters.

-Really? -Yeah, really.

Let's say that you're right.

Let's say that Mitchell Slocumb really is David's father.

So what?

Does that change who he is?

Am I supposed to think less of him

because of something that his father did?

Changing your name so people won't hold what your father did

against you, is that a crime?

Boy, you really don't get it.

No, Allison, I think I do.

As psychic dilemmas go, this one's pretty cut-and-dry.

If David Brewer doesn't want anyone to know who he is,

then that's fine; that's his business.

I get it.

We don't have to ask; he doesn't have to tell.

But, Joe, I think I have to ask.

I know that Slocumb was a monster,

but it's my job to find out who killed him.

Well, you think it might have been David?

Well, I don't know.

But if what I'm seeing is true,

in addition to killing all of these people,

Mitchell Slocumb was an incredibly abusive parent.

That doesn't make David a killer.

And, look, let's not forget, we're not absolutely certain

that they're father and son.

You should have seen him outside of your office.

It was right after the news hit

that we identified Slocumb.

David was trembling.

When I asked him what was wrong,

he said it was a family thing.

Well, maybe it was. How do you know?

Maybe he had a fight with his wife.

I am sorry.

I know that you really like him.

But I need to tell Devalos what I know.

And he's going to want to bring him in for questioning.

Allison, we're not talking about somebody

that I... that I like here.

We're talking about the only person that I've hired so far.

He's like half the company.

It took me three months to find him.

I know.

Well, let me talk to him first.

I want to be the one to talk to him first.

If he's going to get hauled into the DA's office for questioning

just because he has the bad luck to work for me,

then I want to be the one to explain it to him.

(elevator bell dings)

Hi.

David, thank you so much for coming.

Yeah. Like I have a choice.

Uh....

Yeah, okay.

I was born Arlo Slocumb.

Mitchell Slocumb's my father.

Was my father.

So what do you want to know?

I'm not going to be able to tell you very much.

I moved out before I was 17.

As soon as I turned 21, I changed my name.

I, I don't think I have any light to shed.

Be that as it may,

I do need to ask you some questions,

the most important being can you account

for your whereabouts Monday night?

You mean the night that my father was killed?

Yeah...

but no. I mean...

I was at home, but there was no one there with me.

What about Debbie?

Your kids?

They were visiting with her sister in Flagstaff.

Is that what this is?

Is that the working theory?

You think I spent 20 years hiding that I was his son

so I could come back and kill him

and become notorious for it?

Look, I don't know how to prove it,

but I didn't even know that he was in Phoenix

until I saw the online report that he was dead.

I'm afraid that's not good enough,

Mr. Brewer.

I've got to find a way to substantiate your alibi.

Even in death

the man is complicating my life.

So what's next?

How do we do this?

It's pretty straightforward stuff.

We fingerprint you.

Look around your house for a murder weapon.

Talk to some people who know you.

Oh, man.

Look.

I get it.

I understand what you have to do.

I get it. I...

All I'm saying is just...

please be sensitive to my situation.

Be discreet.

I've spent a long time

building a life as David Brewer.

I have a wife; I have two kids

who have no idea that their grandfather was a mass murderer.

I have a professional reputation to protect.

We understand,

Mr. Brewer.

We'll do our best.

(reporters clamoring)

BRIDGETTE: Mom!

Daddy's on the TV!

Daddy's on the TV!

I was trying to find cartoons.

But all the channels had Daddy on them instead.

REPORTER: Mr. Slocumb, is it true

you've been living under an assumed name

since the 1980s?

I don't have nothing to say about that.

(phone rings)

Hello?

Seen the news?

Seen it?

Lee, my God, this is terrible.

This man's a friend. He works for my husband.

We gave him our word.

How did the press find out?

Someone must have seen my report, made a call.

I'm guessing money changed hands.

That poor man.

All he did was ask us to protect his privacy.

You ready for the punch line?

It was all for naught.

We found the man who actually killed Slocumb.

Name is Donald Wright.

He ran with the same rightwing nut jobs that Slocumb did.

Turns out the two of them had a fight over money.

Ended with Wright taking a pipe to his "buddy's" skull.

David's completely innocent?

We questioned him for nothing.

I'm afraid so.

I wonder if it'll be any consolation to him

while the media's picking his life apart.

No, okay.

Yeah.

No, I-I, yeah, I understand.

(sighs)

Look, if there's ever anything that I can do for you...

I'm so sorry.

I really am, David.

What? What now?

He just quit.

They're moving.

Oh, God, no.

Somebody

threw a rock through their window.

He's been getting threatening phone calls all night.

The police have a car parked outside of his house,

but it's not like they can stay there forever.

He just wants out of here...

and I can't blame him.

I don't understand.

What is all this?

If he's innocent, why am I being shown all these things?

So I can ruin the life of a good man?

You got me, Al.

MAN (on TV): ...number 13 takes it to the 49.

Martin has got...

Dad?

I have something I want to show you.

What the hell is that?

I found one of those new microwave ovens

over at the dump.

It was pretty smashed up,

but the inside still worked.

It gave me an idea.

See, this is a timer.

You just set it for however long you need to get away.

And this,

this thing gets really, really hot.

You take all this,

you put it in a vehicle filled with gas

and-and an oxidizer...

Oxidizer?

What's an oxidizer?

Fertilizer.

You take 20

or 30 bags of fertilizer...

And what?

Well, I think you could blow up a building.

(sobs)

That's... beautiful, son.

I could never build something like that.

Not in a million years.

You always said you wanted to change the world, Dad.

Well, now you can.

(gasps)

(metallic clanging)

Oh, my God, what are you up to now?

I'm fine. I'm fine.

I'm not building anything.

I'm not blowing anything up.

I'm just trying to find...

Here it is.

From a 20-year-old microwave.

I completely missed the point.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

The point of what?

The dreams, the compulsions.

They had nothing to do with Mitchell Slocumb

trying to get me to blow up another courthouse.

It had to do with seeing how the bomb really got made

so I could understand who really made it.

What do you mean, "who really made it"?

Mitchell Slocumb

didn't build that bomb, Joe.

His son did.

Remember that night he came over for dinner?

He handed me that bottle of wine?

As soon as I touched it, I-I saw these images.

These flashes of... pictures.

Faces.

I really didn't understand it at the time,

but now I'm starting to think...

There they are.

There's 17 of them.

I'm starting to think that I saw them

'cause they're always in his head.

He's haunted by them.

Okay, so let's say that you're right.

What are you gonna do?

It-it's 23 years now.

The only other person who was there is dead.

How exactly do you go about proving any of this?

I mean, what do you do with it?

I don't know.

How do you do it?

How do you do it?

How do you live with yourself?

How do you live with it day in and day out?

With 17 people's lives on your conscience?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Those people aren't on my conscience.

My father detonated that bomb.

My father killed those people.

Your father figured out

how to use microwave oven parts to build a detonator?

You father knew to use gasoline and fertilizer

ten years before Timothy McVeigh and the Oklahoma City bombing?

Your father, who dropped out of high school

and went right into the army?

I think I'd like you to leave now.

I know you built it.

I know you made it.

I know you gave it to your father.

And he drove it to California

and he murdered 17 people.

17 people whose pictures you saw

in the newspaper the next morning.

17 people whose faces are etched in your mind.

Whatever you say.

But seeing as how there are no police cars

flooding this driveway,

I don't see how you are actually able to prove that.

Well, you're right.

I can't prove it.

But the 17 people who died that day--

the people who loved them--

they really deserve to know what really happened.

They-they know what happened.

A misguided fool with mental problems set off a bomb.

And if it hadn't been that bomb, it might have been another.

Dynamite stolen from a construction site,

or a war-surplus hand grenade.

Is that how you excuse what you did?

By the way, I think your math's a little off.

18 people died that day.

A badly damaged boy named Arlo Slocumb--

he died in that blast, too.

And out of his ashes...

David Brewer was born.

And while David Brewer may sometimes think

about some of the things that Arlo Slocumb did,

it'd be an unspeakable tragedy

for him to go to jail for that boy's crimes.

I mean...

what would be the point of destroying one more family?

DEBBIE: Sweetie.

We really need to get going.

I'll be right there.

(sighs)

I'm sorry that we're not gonna able

to have that dinner, Allison.

I really think you'd like me.

It's always there,

isn't it?

Give Joe my best.