All language subtitles for I.Know.This.Much.Is.True.S01E01.WEB.x264-PHOENiX_Subtitles01.ENG

(birds chirping)

(Thomas mumbling)

I don't know why you asked me.

(voice quavering):
I am not pure of heart.

But I'll do your bidding,
oh, Lord, oh, God.

I want to do my best
for the people,

for the children
of this nation.

I want them to know
what they do is wrong.

Dominick:
On the afternoon
of October 1st, 1990,

my twin brother, Thomas,
entered the Three Rivers
Connecticut Public Library

and prayed to God
the sacrifice

he was about to commit
would be deemed acceptable.

‐Thomas: "...forgive us
our trespasses..."
‐Librarian: Sir, sir!

I'm gonna have to ask
you to be quiet.
This is a public library.

‐"Lead us not into temptation
but deliver us from evil.
‐I want you to be quiet now,

or you will have
to leave the library.

"And if your right eye
offend thee, cut it out...

‐"...and cast it from thee.
‐I will have to
ask you to leave!

"And if thy
right hand offend thee,

"cut it out and cast it
from thee.

For it is profitable to thee
that one of thy members
should perish."

(children screaming)

Dominick:
Thomas and I had spent several
hours together the day before.

Most Sundays,
I pick him up from his job

at the state institution
Settle Building,

treat him to lunch,
and return him

to the group home
where he lived
by suppertime.

A line had been
drawn in the sand...

What do you want to eat?

What do you want, buddy?

Oil companies... America.

We're living on borrowed time,
Dominick.

We're just wallowing
in our‐‐ in our greed
and‐‐ and spiritual filth.

And now it's time to pay.
We're gonna pay the price.

Hey, I don't mean to
change the subject, but how,
how's your coffee cart?

‐How's the business?
‐How do we kill people
for the sake of cheap oil?

‐How do we justify that?
‐How's your business, Tom?

How are we gonna prevent
the vengeance of God?

If we have no respect
for human life?

I don't know, buddy.
What do you want to eat?

Waitress:
Have you had time to
look at the menu?

You can't worship both God
and money, Kristin.

Thomas:
America's gonna vomit up
its own blood.

Uh, can I get a...
I'll get a cheeseburger.

No fries, salad on the side.
What do you want?

‐I want hot dogs.
Hot dogs.
‐Hot dog.

You got it.

‐Dominick: Thanks.
‐Waitress: Sure.

Thank you.

Thank you for being
a good brother to me.

(clears throat)

‐(screaming continues)
‐"It is profitable to thee

"that one of thy members
should perish

and not that thy whole body
should be cast into hell!"

(screaming continues)

‐(Thomas moaning)
‐(knife slicing)

(panicked shouting)

(whimpering)

‐Officer: Are you Dominick?
‐Dominick: Uh, yeah, I am.

Doctor:
He emphatically refuses any
attempt to re‐attach the hand.

Quite frankly, I'm amazed
at his determination.

The severity of the pain
should have aborted
his mission halfway.

God.

God. What'd you do?

It was a sacrifice.

Doctor:
Sign this, please.

‐Dominick: Wait, what's this?
‐Doctor: It's a consent form.

Thomas: No.

Doctor:
We're gonna try to re‐attach
the hand with your permission.

No, Dominick, no, no.

Then I'll just
tear it off again.
It's a sacrifice,

and I know what I'm doing

and I'm doing it
on my own choice.

You're gonna lose your hand.

Doctor:
We can restrain him
for several days

but we need to give the nerves
a chance to regenerate.

Thomas: You're not a savior.
You don't know what a savior is.

You don't know
what sacrifice is.

Dominick, it is a religious act.

It is an act of my own accord.

‐Doctor: Would you sign
the form, please?
‐And I need you

to stand up for me for once.

‐I need you to.
‐Doctor: Sign the form,
please, sir.

‐Okay, I need a minute.
‐Thomas: Dominick,
I need you to defend me.

I had to do it!
No, let me go.

‐No! Stand up for me.
‐(indistinct shouting)

Dominick!
Please, defend me.

I'm lucid!
No, no, it's my life.

Stop! I know what I'm doing!
Dominick, defend me!

Dominick, defend me!

Help! Help!

(indistinct chatter)

Dominick, Dominick.
Dominick!

(continues shouting):
Oh, no! Dominick...

‐Wait. No, no, no.
‐Nurse: Your brother...

‐Doctor: No? No?!
‐No.

‐Dominick: No,
are you listenin' to him?
‐Thank you.

‐Doctor: I hear him, you‐‐
‐It's his hand,
it's his decision.

‐Dominick: No.
‐Thank you.

‐Dominick: God damn it, no.
‐Doctor: Fine.

Thomas:
Thank you, Dom.

If Mom was here,
she'd thank you.

(machine beeping)

(door closes)

(quiet chatter)

(melancholy music playing)

Dominick:
We made the front page
of the paper

on the day we were born.

Born on December 31st, 1949,

and January 1st, 1950,
respectively.

Six minutes apart
and in two different years.

Our births would have been
discreetly ignored
by the newspaper

had we not been
the New Year's babies.

(birds chirping)

At our house
at 68 Hollyhock Avenue,

you tiptoed and whispered
during the day

and became free each evening
at 7:30

when our stepfather, Ray,
would leave for work.

‐Ray: Thomas,
elbows off the table.
‐Ow. Ow!

‐Ray...
‐Mind your business, Susie Q.

Don't pamper this boy, huh?

He's fine.

Ma:
Just eat your supper,
sweetie.

Ray:
I don't wanna see any tears.

Suck it up.

Ray: Eat your dinner.

Young Dominick:
I hate him, Ma.

Ma: No, you don't
hate him, Dominick.

Kids don't hate
their fathers.

He's not my father.

Well, Dominick, he‐‐ he is.

He is your father.

And he cares about you
and your brother.

He puts food on our table.

Is my real father alive?
Did he croak or something?

‐Shh, shh, shh, shh.
‐Just tell me.

(shushing)

‐Who is he, Mom?
‐You get some sleep, huh?

Don't be a monkey.

‐Fine!
‐What are you doing?

Come on, lie down.

What? You gotta
go to the bathroom?

‐No.
‐What are you doing?

‐I'm going outside.
‐Dominick!

(exhales)

♪ ♪

Dominick:
All my life, I had
imagined a scenario

in which my father would,
at last,

reveal himself to me.

Ma:
You get 10 more minutes.

Then I want you
to come in, okay?

Dominick:
I cooked up cowboy dads,
pilot fathers

who made emergency landings
on Hollyhock Avenue.

Hopped from their planes
and rescued us from Ray‐‐

(plane engine buzzing)

the intruder
who married my mother

and installed himself
in our home.

But whoever he was, my mom
just kept it a secret.

Just lived with it.

Buried it.

Buried it inside her
for her whole life.

And so we all did.

And then,
in August of 1986,

three years before Thomas
walked into that library,

Ma fingered a lump
in her left breast.

Her breast was removed.

A week later,
she was told that the cancer
had metastasized.

(shuddering)

Dominick: With luck
and aggressive treatment,

the oncologist told her,

she could probably
live another
six to nine months.

What the hell do you mean,
six to nine more months?

Dominick:
My stepfather,
my brother and I

struggled independently
with our feelings

about Ma's illness and pain.

Her death sentence.

Each of us fumbled in our own
way to make things up to her.

Thomas spent hours
assembling and gluing

and shellacking
something he called

a "hodgepodge collage."

My stepfather decided he would
fix her broken scrapbook.

My own project for my mother
was the most ambitious.

I would remodel her
1950's‐era kitchen.

I conceived the idea
to show her that
I loved her best of all...

Hey, Ma.

...or that I alone understood
the family curse.

Doing the kitchen for ya.

That had given her,
first, a volatile husband,

and then a schizophrenic son,

and then handed her
the big C.

Dominick: Whoa!

Ma, there's writing on the wall.
It looks like it's Grandpa's.

Ma:
Yeah, it's Papa's.

Dominick: Ma?
What's the matter?

Nothing, nothing.
Just do whatever you're doin'.

What? You don't
want a new kitchen?

Just, everything
goin' on right now,

it's a little much, you know?

Alright.

Dominick, you wanna
give me somethin',

just give me somethin' small.

(muttering)

Ma:
Don't be bitter, baby.

Come here.

I wanna show you somethin'.

Just waitin' for the right time
to give it to ya.

(mutters)

‐What do you got?
‐It's for you.

‐Ma.
‐Go on.

Whoa.

(chuckles)

Ma, you got the key
taped to the box.

So you don't lose it.

Aw! So sweet.

This is...

(box lid creaks)

Dominick:
Ma, what is it?

Christ, it's Italian.

It's my father's story.
His life story.

Whoa.

Have you, have you read this?

I've forgotten as much Italian
as I ever knew.

I mean, I see
his name right there.

What‐what does
the rest of it say?

Ma:
Oh, it says, "The History

"of Domenico Onofrio Tempesta,

a Great Man
From Humble Beginnings."

Well, he certainly had a good
idea about himself, didn't he?

‐Yeah, well...
‐Wow, Ma.

‐I wish I could have met him.
‐Hm.

Did he ever meet our father?

I don't feel so good.
I‐‐ I think I should‐‐

Ma, why can't
we talk about this?

‐Will you help me upstairs?
‐After all this...

‐...after everything‐‐
‐Help me upstairs, sweetheart.
Please.

(exhales)

There you go, Ma.

There you are, Ma.
Get some rest.

(quietly):
I love you, Ma.

(Italian accordion playing)

(woman singing in Italian)

(singing continues)

(knocking)

(keys clicking)

Woman: Yeah, come in.

Hi, Nedra Frank?

‐Yeah, I'm, I'm Nedra.
‐Yeah.

Uh, yeah, I called you.
Dominick Birdsey.

I called about my, uh,
my grandfather's manuscript.

I need a translation.

It was... my grandfather's.

Oh, wow, I haven't seen
this paper in so long.

Yeah, oh, okay,
looks like standard Italian

and, oh, mixed in with
some peasant Sicilian.

I mean, are you wanting
an estimate?

I, I would say,
eight dollars a page.

And then more where explanatory
footnotes are necessary.

And they will be necessary.

How much is that gonna be?

I don't know, five dollars.
It could be eight dollars.

It depends on how much text
I have to generate,

'cause, well,
I'm‐‐ I'm a scholar.

So what you're essentially
asking me to do,

it's like going
to a serious artist

and saying, hey,
can you paint me something
to match my drapes?

‐Dominick: Oh.
‐(chuckles) You know.

So how, how long
you think it's gonna take?

A month.

I mean, or two months,
I mean,

depending on my
oppressive schedule.

I would need $400 up front.

Nedra: Oh!

Do you have a pen?

Um... Oh.

Oh, thank you so much, Morgan.

(sighs)

I thought you were
gonna hustle me

with your good looks
and just

try to take me...

for a loop or...
(chuckles)

(soft music playing)

Ma (voice breaking):
Is Thomas here?

Is he coming here?

No, Ma, he's not doing
so well today.

Ma:
I want to go home.

Ma, it's, it's better here.

They can take care
of you here, Ma.

Nurse: Okay.

Dominick:
Hey, Nedra,
it's Dominick Birdsey.

Uh, yeah, I don't
mean to bug you

but it's, uh, it's been
a few weeks already.

‐Yeah, yeah.
‐(Nedra on phone, indistinct)

Nedra: I'm doing
500 things at once.
What's up with you?

Right. Well, listen,
I, I know you're busy and all,

but my mom's pretty sick
and I really wanted her
to have that, um,

manuscript before...

I'm working on it right now
as a matter of fact.

I'm kind of having
some fun with it.

I decided to leave in
some of the Italian words

and phrases just to give you
a sense of the music.

‐Dominick: Music?
‐Mm‐hmm, oh, God, yes.

Italian is such
a musical language.

Well, whatever.
It's really just the,
the English

that I'm, I'm, uh, most
interested in right now.

You know?

Nedra: (chuckles)
...all part of it.

Heh. Right.

Hey, so, uh...

what's he like?

Nedra:
"What's he like?"

Yeah, I mean, you know,
you've been,

you've been working on it
for a while now.

You probably got to know him
a little bit.

What's, do you‐‐ do you
get a sense of the guy?
What's he like?

Well, a translator's position
is always to remain objective,

but, uh, you know,
an emotional reaction

would clearly inhibit the, uh...
ability to really...

Okay, well, can you just,
just this one time

you know, allow yourself
an emotional reaction
for my sake, please?

I can't stand him.

He's a, he's a, a, a‐‐
a fucking chauvinist pig,
okay?

And he's a narcissist.

Uh, I don't even know
why he would wanna

write this
for anybody to read!

Uh, the relationship
to his daughter,

is, I, it's...

(stammering)
I don't know.

Is what?

If I had kids, I would not
let this man near my children.

Okay?
(chuckles)

Hello?

‐Okay, Nedra.
Thanks, thanks.
‐Nedra: Okay.

‐You can call me
though anytime.
‐Yeah.

(hangs up phone)

Dominick:
Let's go, let's go,
we're gonna say hi to Mom

and then‐‐ fuck...

Oh, here she is.
Come on.

What?
What's the matter?

We're gonna go see Ma now.
You don't want to see Ma?

She wants to see you.

Thomas, just come on.

You said we're‐‐
we could go to McDonald's.

Dominick: All right,
I'm, I'm gonna
leave you here.

(scoffs)

Ma: Oh, hey.

Dominick:
What's wrong with you?

Seriously, that‐that was,
that was like the most

selfish display I've ever
seen outta you, man.

All she wanted was for you
to come and sit by her.

Are we still going
to McDonald's?

No!
Don't you get it, you asshole?

Do you even fucking
come up for air long enough

to realize your
own mother's dying?

‐(grunting)
‐Goddammit! Fucking...

(Thomas wailing)

Get up here now.
Get up here now!

You're not gonna pull that
in the fuckin' car!

(grunting)

(tires screeching)

Come here.

Hey, what are you‐‐
what are you doing?

(tires screeching)

‐Thomas, hey.
‐(horns honking)

No!

(horns blaring)

Thomas!

Thomas!

Thomas, Thomas.

Thomas!

Thomas.

Tom...

Man, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry about that.

Come on,
you scared the shit
out of me, come on, man.

Thomas:
I'm sorry.

‐Take me‐‐
take me to McDonald's.
‐Come on.

Just give me your hand.

♪ ♪

Thomas:
I'm sorry, I‐I lost my temper.

I'm really‐‐ I'm sorry.

♪ ♪

(television, indistinct)

All right, Leo.
I'm here, I'm watching.

How do you know this is on?
Is this on "TV Guide," man?

I think this might be it.
This might be it,
this might be it.

Announcer on TV:
Crab legs.

Has it been a while
since you've had some?

Let Landlubbers
show you how.

‐(laughing)
‐Yep, that's the spot.

‐Leo: Why are you laughing?
‐Get right in there.

Dominick:
It's strange to see you
on TV, man.

Well, that's, they aged me up
to look like a dad.

‐Dominick: Yeah.
‐Like, like a suburban‐‐
it's acting.

Dominick:
(laughing) Leo.

Announcer:
Then we've got the place
for you.

Landlubbers‐‐
Serving 'em every night.

Dominick:
(laughing) Awesome.

Leo:
No, what are you
laughing about?

Dominick:
It's stunning, man!

It was amazing!

Do you really think‐‐
do you really
think it was good?

Yeah, it's, I mean, yeah,
it's real acting.

It's like Brando meets De Niro
meets, like, Barney Fife.

It's not like it's supposed to
be fuckin' Shakespeare, man.

It's a commercial.

Well, that's the understatement
of the year, brother.

‐(doorbell rings)
‐No, seriously, man.

Hold on a second.
Seriously.

No, no, no, no, Bruce Willis
was discovered bartending.

Hold on a second.

Leo:
That doesn't happen
to real people.

‐Hey, hello.
‐Hi.

Uh, what's...

Leo, I got somebody here.
I gotta go.

‐Leo: I gotta tell you...
‐(chuckles)

‐...I'm happy for you.
‐Uh, wait, one sec‐‐

Wait, I got one more question.

What's her body like?

Good‐bye.

Hey, is it, is it done?

What? Oh, no, this is
my doctoral thesis.

My apartment, my living space,
got broken into.

So now I've got to lug this
around wherever I go.

But your, uh, manuscript,
I'm working on every day.

How did you know
where I live?

What, is it some
big, dark secret?

No, it's just...

‐Can I come in?
‐Oh, uh, yeah, sure.

Okay, I thought
you'd never ask.

It was on your check.
It's written right there
on the front.

‐Sit down.
‐I saw your street

and I was like, oh, my God,
it's Hillyndale.

I guess I remembered it.
I was like, what, are they

trying to be quaint
with that name,

or faux British?

Um, and I was wanting
to talk to you

since our last conversation.

What you had said,
you were saying that, um,

you, you, you made a good point.

That I was being not emotional
or really taking in

what I was reading,
and that stuck with me.

So I'm like, I should...

I was concerned that
you're giving it
to your mother as a gift.

And has she ever seen anything
that's inside of it?

Uh, no.

So I think

that you should not
give it to your mother

until you've read it yourself,
you know?

‐Yeah, I got that.
‐Yeah.

So is it, is it almost done?

Well, yes, it's almost done.
I'm just...

‐Almost done?
‐Yes.

‐Can you do me a favor?
‐Yeah.

Can you just not pressure me?

‐Yeah.
‐I just, I don't,

I don't do well with pressure
and I'm, I'm doing it.

Do you have anything
I could drink, actually?

Uh, yeah.
I have beer and, uh, water.

I would love a beer.
Please get me a beer!

(laughs)

So this is the place.

Wow. It's...

So what do you do, Dominick?

I paint houses.

Oh! (laughs)
A house painter.

Oh! That's perfect.

(chuckles)

You have to be strong
for that, I'm sure.

Yeah.

(exhales)

Solzhenitsyn?

‐(chuckles)
‐You thought a dumb fuck
like me would be reading what?

Mickey Spillane? Hustler?

Oh, I just...
that's impressive.

(chuckles)
I guess there's
more to you than

meets the eye.

(exhales)
I've had such a week.

I needed this.

Are you gonna feed me too
or are you just gonna

ply me with alcohol
and then kick me out?

I have, I mean,
unless you like

Raisin Bran or chicken broth,
I really,

I really don't have much here.

Or we could order pizza.

Society's gone so D‐grade.

I feel like people
can't compute.

So they bring us fucking
pepperoni when I said cheese.

Who's that?

Mm, that's my wife.

Wait, oh, you have a wife?

Mm, my ex‐wife, I meant.
That's‐that's Dessa.

Oh, Dessa.
What does, what does Dessa do?

Huh? She works
at a pottery studio

with her‐‐ her new boyfriend.

That is fascinating.

Well, my ex‐husband,

his name is Todd.

It was kind of like being
married to the Marquis de Sade,

except he was all pain,
no pleasure.

Ah, the Marquis de Todd.

(chuckles)
Did you just think of this?

(laughs)
That's so funny.

Or!

Todd de Sade.

Hey, so, uh...

I could give you a ride back
in this, in this storm, uh,
you know?

I have a four‐wheel drive.

‐Oh.
‐And you've had a few,
few to drink tonight.

Do you hear what you're saying?

I mean, it's like
a storybook line.

"I'll run you home in my truck."

Is it tall? Is it big?
Is it wide?

It's... it's a 150.

Do you, ooh, look out.
Oh, no.

(laughs)
I have a better idea.

How about we listen
to some music?

No, don't help me, I know
how to work the electronics.

(exhales)

(groovy music plays on radio)

(music stops)

("Everything She Wants"
by Wham! plays on radio)

Oh, I love this song!

♪ Oh, yeah ♪

Dominick:
Wow.

I would have pegged you
for a classical music type.

♪ Somebody told me ♪

‐(Nedra grunts)
‐♪ Everything she wants ♪

♪ Is everything she sees ♪

Come on!

♪ I guess I must
have loved you ♪

Dance with me.

♪ Because I said you were
the perfect girl for me ♪

♪ Baby, and now
we're six months older ♪

Come on, Dominick,
dance.

You gonna make me
dance all alone?

♪ ...everything you see ♪

♪ Is out of reach ♪

♪ Not good enough ♪

Nedra (sings along):
♪ I don't know what ♪

♪ The hell
you want from me... ♪

♪ Uh huh huh ♪

♪ Do, do, do,
la, la, la, la ♪

♪ Uh huh, uh huh ♪

♪ Do, do, do,
la, la, la, la ♪

♪ Somebody tell me ♪

♪ Won't you tell me ♪

Does that feel good?

♪ Why I work so hard for you ♪

(Dominick chuckles)

Oh, my.
What's happening?

What?
Oh, oh, what'd I do?

Are you okay?
What?

(exhales)

(laughing)
What?

‐What's...?
‐No.

I'm just really
nervous, and, uh...

Oh, my God.
Don't be nervous.

Are you laughing?

‐I'm not, it's just‐‐
‐What?

It's been a, you know
I'm having a hard time
getting over...

♪...that you've got
some giving to do ♪

♪ And now you tell me that
you're having my baby ♪

‐♪ I'll tell you that
I'm happy if you want me to ♪
‐(door closes)

‐(Nedra cries)
‐♪ One step further,
my back will break ♪

Nedra?
Are you all right?

Hey.

‐(yelling incoherently)
‐Are you‐‐ are you stuck?

‐You locked me in!
‐I didn't lock you in.

(Nedra shouting)

‐Sometimes it...
‐Are you trying
to humiliate me,

you fuckin' Neanderthal!

I was really nervous.
I just broke up with my wife.

Oh, shut up.
Why don't I call your wife?

So that we can commiserate
about your sexual harassment.

‐Hey! Now wait a minute.
‐And all your fucking...

That wasn't sexual harassment.
You‐you came onto me, all right?

You got me to fucking dance
in your living room!

‐I never meant to go like that.
‐I didn't make you dance.

All I was‐‐

I asked to take you home,
all right?

All I wanted to do was get
an overpriced translation.

‐And all of this was
your idea, lady.
‐It wasn't overpriced.

You know I don't fucking show
my real self to anyone.

I have to keep it together
for the whole fucking system

of men like you,
you piece of shit!

Hey, hey, come on.
Nedra, hey, hey.

No wonder
you're so fucked up!

Spending time
with your grandfather

is like being trapped
with Mussolini.

Let me call you a cab, then.
You're wasted!

You're wasted!

Let me just give you a ride.

Let me say it in Italian.
Fangul, fangul!

You're out of your mind.

Wait there, I'll get a cab.
I'll get you a cab.

‐Nedra: You fucking shut up.
‐I don't care.

‐You shouldn't be‐‐
‐...and shut your asshole.

‐(engine starts)
‐(music continues on radio)

Turn on your lights.

Turn on your lights!

(bells ringing)

(knocking)

Man: Come in.

Hey.
How you doing?

Hey.

Hey, uh...

What happened to Nedra Frank?

She's withdrawn from
the degree program.

‐Personal reasons.
‐Right.

Yeah.

Nurse:
I'm so sorry to tell you,
but she's not doing well.

If you'd like to go in
and say any last words to her,

now could be a good time
to do that.

Ma: Thomas?

‐Dominick: It's Dominick.
‐Ma: Oh.

Thomas sends his love.

‐Is he doing okay?
‐Yeah, he's doing great.

He's just having a little bit
of a tough day today.

‐Ma: Has he got a cold?
‐You know how he gets sometimes.

I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry, Dominick.

For what?
Don't be sorry for Thomas, Ma.

You're a great mom.

You've been great.

‐Ma: What's that, huh?
‐Nothing.

What's that?

‐Ma: Everything good?
‐Yeah.

It's great.
Doing great.

You're my strength.
You're my strength.

Yeah, Ma,
you're the strong one.

‐Ma: No.
‐Yeah, you've always
been so strong.

From the day you was born,
you're my strength.

You take care of Thomas.

You take care
of your brother, huh?

You take care of him.

You... (moans)

Promise me.

Promise me, Dominick.

I promise.
I swear to God.

I promise, Ma.

Oh, sweet baby.

‐Ma: What's all that about?
‐I'll take care of him, Ma.

I'll take care of him.

(quietly):
Take care of him.

♪ ♪

Dominick:
Hey, buddy.

How you doing?

I got some bad news, Thomas.

Mom passed away yesterday.

Can I get my collage back?

Of course you can.
Of course.

I'm sorry, Thomas.

It's not your fault, Dominick.

It was God.

(angelic choir singing)

She took the manuscript.
It's my property.

‐I gave it to you.
‐No, no, no, no.

‐I gave it to you
to have it‐‐ Listen.
‐The agreement you made‐‐

‐Sir, what's between you
and Miss Frank‐‐
‐She works here!

‐She works here.
‐Had nothing whatsoever
to do with the university.

‐Lady, she works here
at the university.
‐Yes.

I gave it to her while
she was working here.

Put me, put me in contact
with her.

That's all I'm asking.

Under no circumstances
can I give you her home address.

Then you know what?
Can I‐‐ can I talk to
your‐your supervisor?

‐Hello?
‐That would be me, sir.

‐That would be me, sir.
‐Oh, you're the supervisor.

Yeah, great.

‐You need to leave.
‐Oh, I do?

(woman screams)

♪

(sobbing)

Dominick:
In the three years since
my mother's death,

Thomas retreated further
and further into his illness.

And then came the day
when he walked into
the Three Rivers Library

and carried out his sacrifice.

I was left to
deliver the news
to my stepfather

when he returned
from his fishing trip.

What?

Ray:
You know what the trouble
always was with that kid,

it was all that
mamby‐pamby stuff

she used to say to him
all the time.

With you, it was different.
You could handle yourself.

I remember the two of you out
on that Little League ballfield.

Watching you two guys out there,
it was like night and day.

If she would have
just let me raise him

the way he should
have been raised,

instead of running interference
all the time,

maybe...

he wouldn't have ended up
on the bottom.

The way he did.

Ray, he's
a paranoid schizophrenic

because of his biochemistry,
and his frontal lobes,

and all that other shit
that Dr. Reynolds

went over with us that time.
It's not Mom's fault.

I'm not saying
it was her fault!

She did the best by both of you
and don't you forget it.

(radio chatter, indistinct)

‐Aren't you comin'?
‐Huh?

He's up in 422.
I'll be up there in a minute.

All right.

Announcer (on radio):
At three minutes past the hour,

this is CBS News.

Hey, Sadie.
Hey, buddy.

Remember me?

Hey.
How you doing?

Oh, my God.

Yeah...

Oh, my God.
What the fuck?

Are you okay?
I mean, how...

I mean, you know,
not so bad considering.

About as good as you'd expect

especially now that he's
become freak of the week.

Yeah, it was on the news again
all day yesterday.

They just won't let it rest,
will they?

Yeah.

"The Enquirer"
called last night.

Guy says he's gonna
give us 300 bucks

if we can get him
a recent picture of him.

A thousand if we get one
without his hand.

He... Joy...

Joy tried to talk me
into doing it.

Inquiring minds want to know.

Well, inquiring minds
can go fuck themselves.

Wow.

‐I know.
‐I can't believe this old
mongrel is still going.

Look at that old lady.

‐Man. So...
‐You wanna say hi?

Hey, wake up, grandma.

Do you remember this guy?

You remember this guy!

How's your sister?

Uh...

She's good.
She's busy.

(laughing) Hope Leo's
not driving her too crazy.

Yeah, I wouldn't say that.

Leo.

It's funny.

People used to predict
that you and I

would be the ones
who stuck it out.

That's funny.

Dominick: Nice van.

Good Earth Potters, huh?

"Hand‐crafted artisan pottery."
It's cool.

‐It's Dan's.
‐Yeah, I figured that.

Yeah.

Why are you crying?

(scoffs)

You know who I keep
thinking about during
all this is your mother.

All this just would have
destroyed her.

Thanks for comin'.

You didn't have to,
you know. You...

‐I know.
‐You're not under obligation.

I wanted to come.

I love your brother so much.

I don't know why you'd think
you would do that right now.

(exhales)

(sighs)

(sniffs)

(whispers):
I'm sorry.

Sorry.

(classic country guitar playing)

‐Hey.
‐Yeah?

I'm sorry.

(engine starts)

It's okay.

It's okay.

♪ Precious memories ♪

♪ How, how, how they linger ♪

♪ Yeah, how ♪

♪ Mmm, how they ever ♪

♪ Flood my soul ♪

♪ Oh yeah ♪

♪ Well, it's the end ♪

Dominick:
Did you go up and see him?

(guitar continues)

Why not?

♪ Whoa, whoa ♪

I don't know,
I just changed my mind,
that's all.

Come on,
let's get out of here.

Look, don't make
a federal case out of it.

Did you see Dessa?
She was here visiting.

♪ Oh yes ♪

♪ Scenes unfold ♪

‐Ray: You want to come in?
Grab a sandwich?
‐Dominick: Huh?

No, no thanks.

I got to get back over there
before they transfer
him tonight.

(car door closes)

Ray: Hey, hey, hey.

‐Yeah?
‐Just answer me one thing.

Why didn't you have them
at least try to

put his fuckin' hand back on?

Now he's got
a physical disability
on top of a mental one.

‐(engine, music stops)
‐Ray: Why would‐‐

They were only giving
the reattachment a 50/50 chance.

If it didn't work,
it would have
just sat there dead

sewn to his arm.

And for another thing,
for another thing,

Ray, you didn't hear him.

It was the first time
in 20 years

he's ever been
in charge of somethin'.

So I couldn't.

I mean, okay.

I guess it doesn't
make him a hero,

but it was his choice, Ray.
It's his hand.

(engine starts)

(music resumes)

(indistinct chattering)

Hey.

‐What's going on?
‐Officer: Where you goin'?

Aide:
Oh, that's his next of kin.

We're transferring him
back to the facility.

Dominick:
Yeah, I know, I've been waitin'
all night for you guys.

That's my brother.

Hey, Thomas, Thomas,

they're gonna take you
back to Settle, pal.

You all right, buddy?

Thomas, you okay?

(metallic clicking)

Can I‐‐ I just go in there
and pack his stuff?

No, you cannot,
no, you cannot.
I need you to step out.

Hey, hey, what,
what are you doin'
with the handcuffs?

You can't, you can't let him
leave this place
with a little dignity?

Hey, it's just procedure.
He'll be okay.

‐I know. You don't
have to do that.
‐...potentially violent.

He's not violent, all right?
He's an anti‐war protester.

‐He's non‐violent.
‐Hey, look, just relax.

I'm relaxed, I'm relaxed.

Reporter (on radio):
President Bush is
just now leaving Finland...

Al:
If you'd ask me,
Bush ought to go show

that crazy Hussein who's boss,

same way Reagan did
down in Grenada.

Flex some muscle.

Fuckin' Saddam insane.

Fuckin' lunatic.

Thomas:
Can we please change
the subject?

Please?

You all right, buddy?

Thomas:
Could you read to me
from my Bible, Dominick?

From the book of Psalms?

Dominick: Psalms?
Where is that again?

Thomas:
It's in the middle.

It's between the Book of Job
and the Book of Proverbs.

Read me the 27th Psalm.

Dominick: All right.

"The Lord is my refuge.
Of whom should I be afraid?

(radio turns off)

"When evil‐doers come at me
to devour my flesh,

"my foes and my enemies
themselves stumble and fall.

"Though war be waged upon me,
even then, will I trust.

"Hear, oh, Lord,
the sound of my calls.

"Have pity on me
and answer me.

"Though my father and mother
forsake me,

yet will the Lord receive me."

Dominick, how's Ray?

Ray, he's... Ray's just fine.
He's, he's okay.

Thomas:
Is he mad at me?

No, he's, he's not mad at you.

Why doesn't he come visit?

Uh, he's been out of town.
He just got back from fishing.

‐Thomas: Today?
‐Yesterday.

Mighta been the day
before yesterday,
I don't, you know what?

This week's been so screwed up,

I haven't been able to
keep the days straight, buddy.

Screwed up because of me?

No, no, not screwed up
because of you.

‐Thomas: You're mad at me.
‐I'm not mad at you.

He's mad at me.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,
hey, you just passed it.

You gotta turn back.
You gotta turn back, man.

Al: No, no, no,
he's not goin' to Settle.

‐What?
‐What do you mean,
not going to Settle?

He has a coffee cart there.
He‐he runs the newsstand.

Al:
I don't know anything
about any coffee cart.

We have signed orders here
to bring him

to the
Hatch Forensics Institute.

Oh, no, not Hatch.

‐Dominick, help!
‐Hatch?

Thomas: I'm not going!
They're gonna kill me.

Dominick, Dominick,

get your brother
under control.

Calm down, man.
Let me deal with this.

‐Dominick! Help me.
‐This, no, this is‐‐
this is a huge mistake.

‐Al: No mistake.
‐I'm telling you.

‐Dominick, please.
‐Turn around
and go back to Settle.

I know the night staff there.
They'll call his doctor.

‐You'll see this is
a huge mistake.
‐Al: No way, no can do.

We have orders to follow.
You're both startin'
to get on my nerves.

‐So just quiet down.
‐Thomas: Okay, you make
sure the coffee's made.

You make sure that
the change box is full.

‐Thomas, shut up
for a second, will ya?
‐You make sure that nobody‐‐

Let me deal with this.

(tense music playing)

Thomas:
I have to pee.

‐I have to pee!
‐Al: Okay, we're almost there.

‐Dominick: Hey, man,
you got brothers?
‐I got four brothers.

So, you understand,
man, come on.
Follow your gut.

Five minutes,
that's all I'm askin'.

‐Come on, man.
‐What the fuck are you doin'?

You keep
your hands to yourself.

That's the last thing
you want to fuckin' do

is grab an armed officer
like that.

‐You understand?
‐Yes.

‐You understand?
‐Yes.

Thomas:
I really have to go
to the bathroom.

‐Is there a bathroom
in this building?
‐Al: Thomas, yes, of course.

Just keep your mouth shut.
Let's go.

The games are over.
I'm done with the babysitting.
Let's go.

Al: Dominick,
do yourself a favor.

Don't say anything.
Just let 'em process him.

‐How are ya? Good.
‐How you doin'?

I really, I really have
to go to the bathroom.

I've had to go the whole time.

‐Who's this guy?
‐I'm his brother.

Listen, this is somebody's,
this is some secretary's

screw up or something,
all right?
He belongs over at Settle.

Mr. Birdsey was visiting
the patient when we arrived
for the escort.

The patient requested
he accompany us.

Al:
We just thought it would
make him less combative

‐so we let him come along.
‐No, he's not combative.

He's never
hurt anybody in his life.

He's about as combative
as Bambi, all right?

Listen, one call to his doctor

and this whole thing
will get straightened out.

I work
the coffee cart at Settle.

They're expecting me there
first thing in the morning.

Okay, listen, you can
accompany your brother

to the initial part
of the admitting process

but you cannot go into the ward.
You got that?

You can't go past
the security station.

Any calls to the doctor
gotta be made in the morning.

‐Let's go, come on.
‐Why can't, why don't we
just make the call now?

We don't even
have to go in here.

Thomas:
I really have to go
to the bathroom now.

Let's go! Open up!

(door buzzes)

Al:
Just a piece of advice.

Do yourself a favor
and keep your mouth shut.

Dominick:
But he doesn't belong here.

They got him in the wrong place.

He doesn't belong in
a maximum security prison.

(door buzzes)

Look, could I talk to this‐‐

Excuse me, can‐‐
can you do me a favor?

Can you call his doctor,
Dr. Willis Ehlers,

over at Settle Building?

Ask him if Thomas Birdsey
belongs at this place.

Dr. Ehlers doesn't treat
patients at Hatch.

‐He's not on staff.
‐Yeah, that's, that's
what I'm trying to say.

Dr. Ehlers is at Settle
where my brother belongs.

He doesn't belong here.
That's what I'm‐‐
can you just call him?

You probably got a directory,
right?

You can wake him up.
He's not gonna‐‐
he's not gonna care.

According to this,
he's been reassigned.

What do you mean
he's been reassigned?

Who, who‐‐ Wait, by who?
Who reassigned him?

‐I'm not at liberty to give
that information, sir.
‐Excuse me.

‐Thomas: Excuse me!
‐Either his new doctor

will notify you or you
can make an appointment‐‐

Thomas:
Excuse me, do you happen
to know a Dr. Ahamed?

He's the superintendent
of this entire hospital.

Hey, buddy, let me
take care of this, will ya?

And you're gonna be
in big trouble tomorrow...

‐Thomas!
‐...when he goes in his office

and he doesn't find his
"Wall Street Journal"

‐and his corn muffin.
‐Thomas, calm down.

Thomas:
All right, I'd hate
to be you tomorrow

when he finds out that
you've been keeping me here
against my will!

‐Calm down, calm down.
‐Yeah, we're good.

‐Come on.
‐Thomas: Oh, Jesus.

‐Oh!
‐(urinating)

‐What happened?
‐I'm sorry, Dominick.

I couldn't hold it.
I told you I had to pee.

Don't worry about it.
It's not a big deal.

Okay, here, here's,
here's the bottom line.

I'm not going anywhere
until he gets out of here

and he's gettin'
out of here tonight,

so somebody better call
the goddamn doctor.

‐Call Dr. Willis Ehlers.
‐Keep your voice down, sir.

Keep your voice down.
Doctors are only called
after hours...

‐...when there's an emergency.
‐I'm sick of this shit.

This is an emergency.

You guys won't even let him
take a piss, for Christ's sake.

You think I'm leaving him here
with you fuckin' Nazis?

‐Guard: Sir, sir.
‐What?

Patient's relatives
do not determine what
constitutes an emergency.

‐The medical staff does.
‐Fine.

Let me talk to
the medical staff.

The nurses at Hatch do not
deal with patient's families.

‐Let me talk to
a social worker.
‐They called from the unit.

‐You ready to rock‐n‐roll?
‐All right, we can finish this
down at the ward.

I've about had it with
the Doublemint Twin here.

‐Okay, let's go.
‐Why isn't anybody
listening to me?

‐(Thomas sobbing)
‐I am telling you that this
is an administrative screw up,

all right, and he belongs
down in Settle.

He may belong in Settle,
but he sure as hell
isn't going there tonight.

All right, maybe first thing
in the morning.

Maybe first thing
in the morning.

But tonight,
he's staying here.

You can't do anything
until tomorrow morning.

We'll take you back to Shanley.
You park at the big lot?

I'm not going‐‐ I'm not
going anywhere till I
get this straightened out.

Okay, can I see
the social worker, please?

Can I please see
a social worker?

Not tonight.
Come on.

(Tom wailing)

Hey, Ralph?

Hey, Ralph.
Ralph Drinkwater.

How you doin'?
Hello.

Can you do me a favor?
Talk, talk a little sense
into these guys

‐for me, will you?
‐(door buzzes)

‐Dominick: Ralph.
‐This is your last chance.

I'm not going anywhere until
I see a social worker.

Hey, don't touch him.
Don't you even touch him, man.

Can I talk to a social worker?

‐Not tonight.
‐Let me talk to
a social worker, please.

Let me talk to
the social worker.

(voices overlapping)

(clamoring)

Dominick: Hey!

(shouting continues)

Get your, get your fuckin'‐‐

Calm down.
Calm him down.

(indistinct shouting)

Get the fuck off me.

You love this shit, don't you?

Feeling these guys up

while you fuckin' frisk 'em,
you fuckin' freak!

‐(blow lands)
‐(groans)

Tommy...

Officer:
Get him outta here.

(cell door clangs)

("Sweet Memories"
by Mickey Newbury playing)

♪ My world is like a river ♪

♪ As dark as it is deep ♪

♪ Night after night
the past slips in ♪

♪ And gathers all my sleep ♪

♪ My days are just
an endless stream ♪

♪ Of emptiness to me ♪

♪ Filled only
by the fleeting ♪

♪ Moments of her memory ♪

♪ Sweet ♪

♪ Memories ♪

♪ Sweet memories ♪

♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYS) ♪

DOMINICK BIRDSEY:
In less than half an hour,

Thomas and I will be
in New York.

'Cause we're on
the third‐grade field trip

to the Statue of Liberty.

Thomas tells Ms. Hanka
he feels too nervous

to get on the ferry
to the statue.

So she makes me stay behind
with him and the bus driver.

That night,
I dreamed I'm trapped.

(INDISTINCT YELLING)

I realize I've not been trapped
at all.

But inside
the Statue of Liberty.

♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪