All language subtitles for La.cifra.impar.1962.TDTRip.Xvid-retibuyendo

I told you not to throw it so high!
Go pick it up!

Excuse me ma'am,
can you give us our ball back?

Bobby's feeling better now.

And as for the garden,
I'm thinking about hiring a gardener

This morning, Nico asked about you two.

THE ODD NUMBER

- Anything important?

- No, nothing, just some brochures.

See you later, Laura.

You're not going to answer me?
I said "see you later. "

What time are you coming back?

I don't know, the same as usual.

All these locks... What are you afraid of?

There aren't any thieves, and ghosts
don't open the door, they seep in.

They seep in?

Is there something wrong, Laura?

I'll call you later, then.

I'm doing pretty well, I can't complain.

I always take Saridon.
Victor says it's good for rheumatism.

Doctor Torres would rather
have me take Salycilate.

There was a revolution here.

The tanks!

I heard everything on the radio.

The only problem is that
Bobby barks a lot now that he's older.

And the neighborhood kids
always throw their ball in the garden.

I've run out of ink.

I have to buy some more
at the corner grocery.

I got Laura's letter.

But I'm writing you back.
It's all the same.

I always take Saridon.
I have shoulder pain.

Bobby must also have rheumatism.
He's been limping.

The kids are always screaming in the street
and I have to give them their ball back.

Sometimes I don't understand
Laura's handwriting.

You should write me instead
every now and then.

As for the garden, I think I'm going to
have to hire a gardener.

This morning, Nico asked about you two.

- Good morning, Luis.
- Good morning, Dossier.

What's wrong?

Nothing, I'm fine.

This morning, Nico asked about you two.

Nothing?

- It's just that I always feel like calling you.
- I don't know, it seemed that way to me.

- Well, you left in such a bad mood...
- What's going on, Laura?

It's just that one has...
sensations sometimes, Luis.

What kind of sensations?

Goodbye, Laura.

Listen to me, Luis.
What's the matter?

The matter is... Nico.

Nico is my brother. He died two years ago.

I never talk about him...
and especially not with Laura.

So, Dossier... If Nico's dead,
who could have asked about Laura and I?

Victor? My cousin Victor?
Or perhaps my Uncle Emilio.

I was going to cross out "Nico"
and write "Victor" in its place,

So I could show the letter to Laura.

I can't put my finger on it,

But Mom's mistake was like a bouncing ball
that transported her back in time

And took Laura and I with it.

Letters from Mom always alter
time and space.

They alter the order of things
I've established here for Laura.

It's as if we were living on probation.

With each letter from... Mom!

Mom writes letter after letter, and we
answer them immediately,

Like somebody who always has to
keep the door shut behind them.

Laura cherishes Mom's letters.

She reads them over and over again,
always waiting for this mistake,

This "Nico" instead of "Victor"
that Mom has just written.

And now that she's made the mistake,
I can't show Laura the letter.

It's no longer a question of
Bobby getting loose,

Or the neighbour's mangy cat,

Or the seamstress' son
who scalded himself with boiling milk.

Now, it's about Nico.

And Laura has never spoken his name.

There's a tacit agreement between us
to never speak his name.

Something happened between Laura,
Nico and me.

Nico is off limits to us.

And just now, Mom names him.

It's as though he had planted
himself between us again,

Carrying his name and memory
wrapped up in stained and sticky gauze.

Yes Mom, yes.
Poor, mangy Bobby.

Poor Bobby, poor Luis.

So much mange!

A dance at club Flores, Mom.

I went because he insisted on it.

I think he wanted to show off his catch.

One gets to chatting, the two hit it off,

Why shouldn't one dance
with his brother's girlfriend?

Oh, girlfriend is a strong word, Luis.

- I think I can call you Luis, right?
- Of course you can!

You can call me Luis or whatever you want.

I wonder why Nico's never invited you over.

You and Mom would get along so well.

But Nico's so awkward, I bet
he hasn't spoken to your father yet.

You wouldn't mind if I danced this
tango with the lady, would you?

You should really come by the house.

The three of us live alone...
With the backyard and the dog.

Shy? Oh, yes. Nico has always
been that way, just like me.

What's so funny? Don't you believe me?

What a shame! You had all this very
well hidden, you tightwad!

- Are you cold?
- Yes.

Oh, don't worry.

- Bye.
- Bye, Matilde.

Someday, the little convalescent will feel
better and be able to lend you his own jacket.

You can give it back to me when you
come by the house.

- You're coming over to meet Mom, right?
- Of course.

See you later, Laura
And take good care of it.

Are you coming?

As you can see,
I had to invite her over myself.

Nico couldn't do it.
He did nothing, like always.

Mom...

Laura is like you.

Laura is you.

What's wrong with Luis, Nico?

Knock it off, Nico.
You have plenty of time.

You should at least ask
what's the matter with me.

There shouldn't be anything
the matter with you.

I guess you're right.

What are you looking at?

The boys left their ball in the street.

Laura...

Mom was happy to meet you.

She liked you.

I'm easy to like.
Everybody likes me.

- Why are you nervous?
- Maybe I don't like myself.

Maybe that's why.

Like it is with so many other people,
nothing has ever happened to me.

Then suddenly, something happens.
There's a change.

But I don't know what's going on with me
or what that change is all about.

Nico, I must be absolutely honest with you.

I feel like I shouldn't deceive you.

But I don't know. I really don't know
what I have to tell you.

You showed up, and I thought
you were that change.

You fell for me instantly,
and I liked your love.

But, now...

No, Nico.

Nico!

I didn't say anything!

Nico...

Nico wasn't feeling well.

- Were you leaving?
- Yes.

Come on, I'll drive you home.

- But...
- Come on.

And Laura? I have to take her home.

Luis just drove up in the car. He'll take her.

Luis...

Try to get some sleep.
You're exhausted, you need a rest.

Mom?

- A change...
- What?

For a woman... What does a change mean?

You see Mom,

The guy is weak and you may startle
him if you go off and tell him that.

Sick people like him are capable
of imagining anything.

I bet he'll think I'm trying to
hook up with Laura.

You'd better not tell him we're going
to the dance.

I think that the natural condition of women
is to be changing all the time.

But I didn't say that to Mom.

Nobody ever found out we were together.

We're both painters, yes.

But he's lucky to be able to really paint.

I, on the other hand, take to the streets.
I design advertisement sketches.

You don't love Nico. You envy him.
You despise him a little.

I just came up with something:

"One always despises the younger
brother whose girlfriend is too interesting. "

And I'm too interesting?

Don't feel bad, Nico isn't either.

Nico, so weak, the poor little thing,

Always tucked away in a corner of the backyard,

Consoling himself with his cough syrup.

And what else? Nothing else.

I'm also nothing else.
We complement each other.

Keep the change.

No, Nico and you don't complement
each other.

How could you?

Nico doesn't play tennis, how could he?

You can't pry him away from his chess,
his stamp collection...

I told you that Mom was going
to see you as a daughter.

It's a shame.

You're always talking about your Mom...
She sees me as a daughter?

- Why do you say that's a shame?
- Because you're Nico's girlfriend to her.

And that's a shame?

It's getting late, Luis.
It must be 12 already.

So what if it's 12, Laura?

We're going to go dance a little,
And then...

The moon... It's like
a hotel window up there.

Look Laura, isn't it just like
A hotel window up there?

How ridiculous our lives were.
Her and I...

Neither of us had friends.
Nor were we alone.

It's the good life here.

Good times, a nice apartment,
Drawing posters hardly counts as work.

And Mom's letters, which always
bring a certain forgiveness.

Forgiveness for what?
Why?

This morning, Victor asked about you two.

We haven't got a letter from Mom in a while.

We're really missing out, huh?

What if Bobby got loose?

What if Uncle Emilio thinks we should
give him a flea bath?

What if she's thinking about hiring a
gardener to fix the garden up?

She really wrote that about the gardener?

Who knows? Mom writes so many things.

Here's your clip.

Laura, what's wrong with you?

Nothing.
What could be wrong with me?

- Could you tell me what's wrong with you?
- Nothing.

- So, what do you think about Luis?
- Why do you ask me that now?

I just want to know what
you think about Luis, nothing else.

I don't think about Luis.

I only think about you.
If that's what you're getting at.

I'm the one who should be asking you
what you think about Luis.

You two don't seem like brothers.

I'm not Luis, I'm Nico.

And tonight, it seems like you have
forgotten that.

- What?
- That I'm Nico.

That I'm the one who loves you.
And I'm the one you love.

I haven't forgotten.
Don't get all worked up.

- So, see you on Friday, as usual?
- Friday it is.

You think there might be something
wrong with me?

That's what I want to know.
Don't get upset.

I'm not upset.
We're all alone in Paris.

If something goes wrong,
we should talk it over.

But nothing's wrong, right?

Has anything ever gone wrong?

We go to the movies a lot,
To the Bois de Boulogne...

We're really getting to know Paris.

Oh, and the movies are excellent.
We can't complain.

Life here is... surprisingly easy.

We can't complain, right?

What if we talked anyway?

- Even if nothing's wrong.
- We're always together, Luis

Don't you want to tell me the usual?

Something happened at the agency?
Something to do with Dossier?

You have a game of canasta with him
and his wife planned for this evening?

The Bois de Boulogne tomorrow?

A movie with Tyrone Power
or Tom and Jerry?

When?

Did your mother write?

What do you have to tell me?

"This morning, Victor asked about you two. "

- Victor?
- Or Nico.

"This morning, Nico asked about you two. "

- Yes, Nico.
- Luis...

That's what Mom's last letter says.

But "you two" really means "you. "

Don't look at me like that, I'm not crazy.
That's what Mom said!

It's true, we never talk.

But there's only one thing we've
never talked about.

A dead person,
what does that mean to you?

When a man dies, he dies to be forgotten.

I guess.

I don't talk about him.
Mom doesn't talk about him.

And above all, you never talk about him.

But to not speak his name is to let him
seep in through the doors and windows

And remain forever among us.

Last week, I got another letter from Mom.

I didn't show you.
I tore it up and threw it away.

I didn't want it to come between us.

What did it say?

"This morning, Nico asked about you two. "

Now you see? We didn't talk about him,
but he was there.

How did you and I manage to keep him
alive after two years in the grave?

You don't understand.

Nico suffered. He really suffered.

So, you mean to say that it's you and I
who made him suffer?

It's even worse than that.

What I mean is that between you and I,
we killed him, Luis.

I can't accept this, Laura.

It's pointless to talk ourselves into
believing he's dead.

He's still alive and we too
have the right to go on living.

But if we keep this up...

It's impossible.

We need to start talking about Nico.
You, Mom, and I.

We need to talk about him all the time,
To continuously speak his name.

- What would we get out of it?
- We could forget him. Get rid of him.

Mom's senile.

Senile?

- Another letter came.
- I already know.

I saw the concierge give it to you.

I thought about destroying it
like the other one.

- Does it mention...
- Nico

Go on, you say his name too.

Let's stop playing this game, Laura.

We're living a lie, a sham happiness.

Propped up by nights on the town
and the cinema.

What did Mom write?

It's absurd.

I spent all day reading it,
trying to understand it.

In the metro, at the office,
on a park bench.

She says she's going to end up all alone.

"If Nico also leaves for Europe like he says
he will... "

That's the fate of the old.

Children are like swallows
that fly away one day.

One has to resign oneself.

She's senile, right?

Of course she is.

But her eyes are empty.

Yes, they're empty.

They've always been empty, Mom.

Hello.

Hello, Victor, how are you?

What's that?

A cane.

I had to buy it at Nico's request.

Now, Mom says that Nico needs a cane.

What for? I don't know.

You must know that Nico needs to be
more sick than he actually is.

He needs to look like he's dying.

So he can inspire pity, compassion.

And now, he needs the cane
to look defeated.

So everybody's horrified.
About what? I don't know.

About Laura and me!

I know he's sick. He's always been.

- But now, his sickness is going to his head.
- What's going on?

If he's in so much agony,

Why doesn't he get that x-ray done,
as Torres asks?

Luis...

But don't you see that all this is a game?

If he has to die, why doesn't
he just get it over with?

Somebody has to tell Nico...

That life must be lived
by those who are capable of living.

And tell him to leave me alone!

Ah, so Uncle Emilio's here too!
The jurors are here to deliberate!

What a family!

Come on, Luis. Don't drink any more.

My family is getting on my nerves.

It's none of their business what
goes on between you and I.

Aren't you forgetting that what
happens to us also affects Nico?

Nico is sick, Luis.

Sick people like him are slimy,
I know.

To live like me, Laura,

With no prospects,
One has no choice but to dig in deep,

And be intense.

That's why I'm burying myself in you,
And putting myself there forever.

But what he's saying is true.

Nico's a living dead man.

A corpse that speaks of love is
always something unheard of.

He said that love is one body
inside of another body.

And that the one body always remains
inside of the other.

For now, he's the one on the outside.

He's still just an atmosphere...

Something that surrounds,
something that rains.

Something that drenches
us in insatisfaction.

An incurable patient like Nico
is an incurable seductor, Laura.

First, he seduced Mom.

Ever since we were kids, he was
so weak, so overfed.

Such a poor little thing.

And me, alone in my room,
stuck between the walls

And the envy of having a brother who
kept mother's milk all to himself.

Later, he would spend
the whole day painting at home,

While I'd be in the street, working
the advertising agencies

And desperately trying to forget my
own desire to stay home and paint.

And drawing rubbish for
a few pesos a month.

Pesos for Mom, pesos for Nico...

For Nico's medicine,
for Nico's sacred free time.

Pesos for everybody but me.

Even the car was a gift for Nico.

It was from a time when I was doing
pretty well and could save.

Then, he seduced you.

Or he tried to seduce you.

But I wasn't so young as to let him
get away with it this time.

I liked you. I don't know if he
loved you like I did or not.

But I thought,

What use could a scrawny, brown,
consumptive boyfriend be to you?

What use could he be to you?

Now, you're talking about finding
a solution.

Sure...
But what solution?

To talk... to say all this.

To talk until we haven't any blood left.

They need to understand.

They need to think a little less about
themselves, and a little more about us,

We who think about them.

They need to realize, like I've realized,

That life is an active thing,
something in motion,

That you have to get as much out of it
as possible, because it ends.

They need to think about it.

For some, the world is a backyard, or
a bedroom, or a cough.

Something immobile, a
detail and little else.

For others, it's the same, perhaps,

Except it's not immobile...
It leaves, like a train.

Go on, Mom.

I have nothing to reproach either
you or Luis with.

I'm not in any condition
to be reproaching anybody.

"Condition. "

A word that Luis likes a lot.

What did you come to tell me?

It must seem awful to you, Nico.

You're much too young.

So many years stuck in the house,
in your room,

Without going out and experiencing life,

Have frozen you in time.

But time has kept marching on.

And everybody else has been living it.

And we've had to live it
with the usual urgency.

When you say "everybody else,"
are you referring to Luis and yourself?

Yes. I'm here to tell you that
we're getting married.

You think it's monstrous, don't you?

Those are your thoughts exactly.

Maybe they are.

But for me, it's not monstrous.

Did you love me?

I did love you a lot.

You were the first and only
person I'd ever loved.

Look at me.

Contrary to what you just said,
time has not stopped in this house.

It's been slowly devouring me.
Look at what's left of me.

A sight for sore eyes, eh?

There's no point in getting
tied down to things.

One day, we'll be gone and they'll be
left sitting there, quiet and alone.

But it won't happen this time.

I'm going to leave my mark
on every little thing, Laura.

I have the sweet satisfaction of knowing
that I will always be stuck to you.

Stuck to all of you!

Doctor Torres just told me...

Afterwards. You and Luis have to wait.

It won't be very long.

You'll get married afterwards!

What's wrong?

Come on.

Let's not think about this anymore.

Let's go away, Laura.
I have a plan.

I could do what I do here overseas.

What would you say to Paris?

The kids are asking about you,
they miss your hair.

Tell them that I have to wait.

Those are Nico's orders, "to wait. "

Such idiocy!

He stalks us with those
gleaming eyes of his.

He watches us wait.

His eyes have gone red from spying on us.

There's a thing called "afterwards. "

And Laura and I have to wait for it.

"Afterwards. " It's so idiotic!

And Laura and I are such idiots!

Bye, see you later.

What?

Nothing.

What's going on, Luis?

Leave me alone!

Leave me alone!

Nowadays, the only mystery about Laura
is her resigned attachment to this life

In which nothing turns out like we
had expected.

It's time to finally admit that
Laura has become like Nico.

One of those who stays behind

One of those who demonstrate the awful
desire to never lead a real life.

Now, she's having a nightmare.
The same as always.

She doesn't talk of Nico,
she dreams him.

It's as though Nico were inside of her,
inspiring her dreams.

Perhaps Laura's dying.
Perhaps she's dying.

Calm down.
You were dreaming again.

- What did you dream?
- Nothing.

I never remember.

Something that binds,
something that rains

Something that drenches us
with insatisfaction.

How could you, Laura? Hadn't you
realized that life was something active,

Something in motion that you must
get as much out of as possible,

Because it leaves, like a train?

Now, she's off to bed,
carrying her secret with her.

Certain of confronting the
figure in her dreams once more.

I don't understand you, Luis.

You're always disappointed, depressed.

But life is beautiful, my friend,
you have to make the most of it.

One day it's gone, and it
never comes back.

So, are we going to make
the most of it?

Hello? Yes? What?
Buenos Aires?

One minute. Luis, it's for you.

Yes, I was with our aunt.

No, Victor's not thinking of
going to Europe.

I was as tactful as possible.

It was strange, they received me in
the living room.

How is she?

How am I? I'm fine.

Although there have been so many
annoyances as of late.

No, no, Victor's not leaving here.

- When did you see her?
- This afternoon.

She told me one thing
that was a little strange.

But I'm a little worn out from all the
shirts I have to iron.

Yes, shirts. I don't get it.

It's OK, Matilde.
Thanks for going out of your way.

Keep me posted, OK?
Thanks. Goodbye.

Hey Luis, it's for you.

Come back.
Come back as soon as possible.

No, no. Right now, please.

She's lost her mind.

Like it is so many other people,
nothing has ever happened to me.

Then suddenly, something happens.
There's a change.

But I don't know what's going on with me
or what that change is all about.

I'm going to be left all alone if Nico
also goes to Europe like he says.

When does the boat from Argentina arrive?

One minute, please.

It arrives on Friday morning.

It leaves Buenos Aires the first and has
layovers in Rio and Dakar.

"The Florence" arrives in Havre
Friday morning.

The special train pulls into Saint-Lazare
station at 11:45.

Now I'm really alone.

Nico leaves the first on "The Florence. "

He arrives at Havre on the morning
of Friday the 19th.

From there, there's a special train
that arrives at 11:45.

At Saint-Lazare.

Luis. Tomorrow is Friday.

Yes. And I'd like for us to spend the
day in Font�inebleu.

OK.

Do you want to smoke?

You know what the difference between us
us is, Laura?

I know there is one.

You believe in death. You think it's
something. I don't believe it.

What's death to you? Do tell.

A clean break.

Something that destroys us in one blow.

What dies, dies.
That's the plain truth, Laura.

You've got to believe me.

If you were to believe me,
you'd be doing something for both of us.

We've come to this together.

I never thought it would come to... this.

It's always too late when
you understand things.

You're superficial until life violates you.

But today is Friday, Luis.
You don't understand.

Yes, Laura, yes.

Today is Friday.

But if you had understood
everything I just told you,

It wouldn't matter.

So it wouldn't be Friday?

No, of course it would still be Friday.

What time is it?

Are you in a hurry?

Hurry? No.

But let's go home.
I can't deal with this.

This peace and quiet is
getting on my nerves.

- Are you alright?
- My head hurts a little.

It's Friday, Laura. The train arrives
at Saint-Lazare at 11:45.

I could tell you
"If you want, I'll go with you. "

I'll go with you, Laura.

Now that I'm here, it's probably a
good idea for me to drop by the office.

- Ok.
- And you?

I'm going to stay home all day.

You should have set a third
place at the table, Laura.

Today is Friday.
The train from Havre arrived on schedule.

Dear Mom

Mom: The train from Havre
arrived at 11:45.

Nico has arrived.

He didn't have to arrive because
he was already everywhere, Mom.

Here, it's as though there were
always a third place at the table,

And a third body in bed.

He's everywhere.

He's leaning against the doorframe,
watching me while I write to you.

Nico is here.
He's always been here.

He's such a poor little thing,

So omnipresent.

Nico's inextirpable.

How could he do this to us, Mom?