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♪ A worried man
with a worried mind

♪ No one in front of me
and nothin' behind

♪ There's a woman on my lap
and she's drinkin' champagne

♪ Got white skin
Got assassin's eyes

♪ I'm looking up into
the sapphire-tinted skies

♪ I'm well dressed
Waitin' on the last train

♪ Standin' on the gallows
with my head in the noose

♪ Any minute now I'm expecting
all hell to break loose

♪ People are crazy
and times are strange

♪ I'm locked in tight
I'm out of range

♪ I used to care
but things have changed ♪

(BELL CHIMING)

MAN: (READING)
"The young girl sat perfectly
still in the confessional,

"listening
to her father's boots
scrape like chalk

"on the ancient steps
of the church,

"then grow faint,
then disappear altogether.

"She could sense the priest
beyond the grate..."

On that particular
Friday afternoon
last February,

I was reading a story
to my advanced
writer's workshop

by one James Leer,
junior lit major

and sole inhabitant
of his own gloomy gulag.

"She bit
the flesh of her lip,

"closed her eyes, mute."

James' stories were about
as sunny as his disposition.

I was distracted.

Maybe it had something to do
with the fact that my wife
had left me that morning.

So, anyone?

Maybe not.
Wives had left me before.

Carrie.

As usual,
James' classmates,

aware of a writer's
inherent vulnerability,

offered their sensitive,
gentle opinions.

I mean, Jesus,
what is it with you
Catholics?

(LAUGHING)
All right.
All right.

Let's try to be
constructive here,
shall we?

Howard, what about you?

I hated it.
(LAUGHTER)

His stories make me
want to kill myself.

That's not exactly
what I meant by being
constructive, Howard.

Yes, Hannah?

I think maybe we're
missing the point.

GRADY: Hannah Green.

A talented writer
who rented a room
in my house.

I knew her to be
insightful, kind

and compulsively clad
in red cowboy boots.

I had, in fact, never once
seen her without them.

He respects us enough
to forget us,
and that takes courage.

Well put, Hannah.
And a good note
to end on, I think.

Oh, don't forget about
WordFest this weekend.

And those of you who are
driving VIPs to the
cocktail party this evening

should have them
at the chancellor's house
no later than 5:30.

(CHATTERING)

Thank you for that.
Is he all right?

I think so.
How about you?

Me? Yeah. Why?

Just checking.

JAMES:
Turn off the light, please.

It felt good to be
in the car.

Alone. Where I could
clear my head.

Tonight was
the opening of WordFest,

the university's annual
three-day "gabathon"
for writers and wanna-bes.

My editor, Terry Crabtree,
was flying in for the event.

He alone had championed
my last novel,
Arsonist's Daughter,

and its critical success
had put us both on the map.

But that was
seven years ago,

and I still hadn't
finished my follow-up.

I knew Terry didn't give
a rat's ass about WordFest.

He was coming to town
to get a look at
my long-overdue book.

I had to keep him at bay.

Ah, Tripp.

Crabtree, how are you,
my friend?

It's good
to see you, Tripp.

Let me help you with this.

Say hello to
my new friend.

Miss Antonia...
Sloviak.

Nice to meet you.
This way.

I took the liberty
of inviting Antonia
to tonight's festivities.

The more the merrier.

Terry was telling me
about you on the plane.

It was all so interesting.

I was just explaining
how a book comes
to be published,

what you do as a writer,
what I do as an editor.

I sweat blood for five years,
and he corrects my spelling.

That's exactly
what he said.

We know each other
pretty well.

And actually,
it's seven years.

You know how many times
I've boarded an airplane
just praying

that some gal like her
would be sitting down
beside me?

She's a transvestite.
You're stoned.

She's still
a transvestite.

So, how's the book?

Uh, it's fine.
It's done.

Basically. I got
a little tinkering
I've still got to do.

Great! I was hoping
I could get a look at it
sometime over the weekend.

It's gonna be a little tough.
I'm at a critical juncture
right now.

I thought you were
just tinkering.

Well, I am,
but I have little details
I've got to work on.

I'm not gonna pressure you.
I just got off the plane.

I mean, I get pressure.
You know? I get...

Know what I mean?

What the hell
in the hootenanny do you
suppose that would be?

GRADY:
That would be a tuba.

TERRY: You didn't actually
purchase this car, did you?

No, I got it
from Jerry Nathan.
He owed me some money.

Ah! He owes God money.
Including my commission
on that faux novel of his.

That perfume you're wearing,
Antonia, that wouldn't happen
to be Cristalle, would it?

Um, uh, yes, it is.

How did you know?

Lucky guess.

GRADY:
The WordFest kick-off party

was always held
at Sara and Walter
Gaskell's house.

She was the chancellor,
which meant she oversaw
the university.

Her husband, Dr. Gaskell,

was the chairman
of the English Department,

which meant
he oversaw me.

Isn't that
a nice greenhouse?

It's Mrs. Gaskell's.
It's her hobby.

I thought you were
Mrs. Gaskell's hobby.

Piss off, will you, Crabs?
I lost a wife today.

You'll find another.
She'll be young, beautiful.
They always are.

Oh, hello, everyone.
Terry, good to see you again.

Chancellor.
Don't you look ravishing.

Oh, oh. Easy.
(CHUCKLING)
Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

It's these goddamn shoes.
I don't know how anyone
can walk in these things.

Practice.

I don't believe we've met.

Antonia Sloviak.

(DOG GROWLING)
Poe.

(BARKING)
Poe! Poe!

Poe, stop! Poe!

That wouldn't be
Walter's dog, would it?
(BARKING CONTINUES)

Poe!

Who's he barking at now?

He's still barking at me.
He's blind.

Stop this.

(CHUCKLING)
Honestly.

Excuse me, I need to talk to
you for a second, Chancellor.

I need to talk to you, too.

Maybe you could help me take
these coats to the upstairs
guest room, Professor Tripp.

I'd be happy to if I knew
where the upstairs
guest room was.

I could show you.

Terry.

Yeah. Oh, yeah.
We'll make
ourselves at home.

We'll let Poe
show us around.
Thanks.

That's new, isn't it?

Yeah, Walter just
got it back from
the framer.

You first.

(EXHALES)

This morning...
I'm pregnant.

I'm sure.

Well, that's...
That's very surprising.

Does Walter know that,
uh...

I think Walter would
find this a little
more than surprising.

Emily left me
this morning.

She's left before.

She's left the room before,
but she's always come back.

So...

I guess we just divorce
our spouses, marry each other
and have this baby, right?

Simple.

Yeah, right. Simple.

(SIGHS)

Is that Cristalle?

Mmm-hmm.
Oh, God.

I wear the same scent
as a transvestite.

She is a transvestite,
isn't she?

If she's not now,
Terry'll make sure she is
by the end of the evening.

Has he asked you
about the book yet?

Yes.

And?

Are you gonna tell him?

No.

Maybe. I don't know
what I'm gonna do.

Me either.

(SNIFFING)

WALTER: DiMaggio's record
for hits in consecutive games

is probably
the most impressive feat
in all of sports,

and in my opinion,
will never be broken.

Come here, big guy.

ANTONIA:
His condition's so sad.

Yes, but even blind,
he still gets around.

GRADY:
I don't drink normally,

but this was
turning out to be
one fucked-up day.

And now I found myself
in close proximity
to Sara's husband

and his dog, Poe.

Walter, I see
you've met my friend.

Oh, yes. She's charming.

Despite his much-vaunted
Harvard education,

Dr. Walter Gaskell
didn't have a clue
about his wife and me.

Simply put, DiMaggio
represented, metaphorically
speaking, of course,

the husband as slugger.

Poe had been on to me
since day one.

(GROWLING)
WALTER: In fact,
I personally believe

that every woman in some way
desires to be Marilyn Monroe.

Oh, I couldn't
agree more.

MAN: I've had
a lot of successes
over the years.

Q. Q was rich.

Q was famous.

Q completed a novel
every 18 months.

I hated him.

...finest work vanished
in less than five.

So I find myself
conflicted.

Ask him if he's conflicted
about his house
in the Hamptons.

Grady.
Well, Professor.

Q, for your information,
Hannah already has
two stories published

in The Paris Review,
so you better dust off
your "A" material.

You didn't tell me
you were a writer.

You didn't ask.

How did you feel
about the adaptation?

I thought
it was more literary
than cinematic.

MAN: Grady.

Douglas Triddley, Amherst.

I've had Arsonist's Daughter
on my graduate-studies
syllabus three years running.

No wonder
it's still in print.

WOMAN: Long time
since Arsonist's Daughter.

WALTER:
There you are.

I could have sworn
I had a bottle of
1975 Lafite Rothschild for Q.

Given that he's going to be
addressing 500 people
in less than an hour...

You want
to keep Q happy.

If he's happy, I'm happy.

(TWIG SNAPS)

James?

It's fake.
It was my mother's.

She won it in a penny arcade
in Baltimore when she went
to Catholic school.

Well, that's
very convincing.

I used to shoot
these little paper caps,

but they don't make them
anymore, the caps.

It's just for good luck,
you know?

Some people
carry rabbit's feet.

You carry firearms.

No, thank you.
I don't like to lose
control of my emotions.

I'm not supposed to be here,
in case you're wondering.

But the other night
I was out with Hannah
at the movies,

and she asked me
since she was coming, so,
I ended up coming, too.

You and, uh, Hannah,
you're seeing each other?

No! What gave you that idea?

James, relax.

I'm not her father.
I just rent her a room.

She likes old movies
like I do, that's all.

What's the movie
you guys saw?

Son of Fury
with Tyrone Power
and Frances Farmer.

She went crazy,
Frances Farmer.

So did Gene Tierney.
She's in it, too.

Sounds like a good one.

It wasn't bad.

You're not like
my other teachers,
Professor Tripp.

You're not like
my other students, James.

Look, James,

about this afternoon
in workshop, I'm sorry.

I think I let things
get a little out of hand.

They really hated it.
I think they hated it more
than any of the other ones.

Well...
Doesn't matter. It only
took me an hour to write.

Really?
That's remarkable.

I have trouble sleeping.

While I'm lying in bed,
I figure them out,
the stories.

(SHUDDERS)

You cold, James?

Oh, a little.

Why don't we go inside?

It's colder in there.

(CHUCKLES)
I guess you're right.

Actually,
I saw the greenhouse.

I thought I'd come outside
and take a look at it.
It looks like heaven.

Looks like heaven?

I saw a movie once.

Part of it took
place in heaven.
Everyone wore white.

Lived in crystal houses
like that.

I really should be going.

Goodbye, Professor Tripp.

Hey, James.

James, don't go. No.

There's something
I want you to see.

I'll miss my bus.

It's worth it.

Trust me.

HANNAH:
Let me help you with that.

Thank you, dear.
Thank you.

Come on.

Hey, you two. James,
are you riding with me?

No, I'm going home...
No, he's going with me.

Why don't you take Crabtree
and his friend? All right?

All right.
Where are they anyway?

Here we are.

Hmm.
Well, hello there.

James, this is my editor,
Terry Crabtree.

James.
HANNAH: James'll know
about George Sanders.

George Sanders?

Mr. Crabtree was saying

how George Sanders
killed himself, only
he couldn't remember how.

Pills. April 25, 1972
in a Costa Brava hotel room.

How comprehensive of you.
HANNAH: James is amazing.

He knows
all the movie suicides.
Go ahead, James. Tell him.

There are so many.
Well, just a few,
the big ones.

Pier Angeli, 1971 or '72,
also pills.

Donald "Red" Barry,
shot himself in 1980.

Charles Boyer,
1978, pills again.

Charles Butterworth, 1946,
I think. In a car.

Supposedly,
it was an accident, but,
you know, he was distraught.

Dorothy Dandridge,
pills, 1965.

Albert Dekker, 1968.
He hung himself.

He wrote his suicide note
in lipstick on his stomach.

William Inge,
carbon monoxide, 1973.

Carole Landis, pills again.
I forget when.

George Reeves,
Superman on TV,
shot himself.

Jean Seberg, pills,
of course, 1979.

Everett Sloane,
he was good. Pills.

Margaret Sullavan, pills.
Lupe Velez, a lot of pills.

Gig Young, he shot himself
and his wife in 1978.
There are tons more.

I haven't heard
of half of them.

You did them
alphabetically.

It's just how my brain work,
I guess.
TERRY: Fascinating.

Say, come out with us
after the lecture.

There's this place
I always get Tripp
to take me.

Actually,
I just want to go home.
Don't be silly.

No one your age
just wants to go home.

Besides, faculty will be
present. Just consider it
a field trip.

JAMES:
Is that really it?

That's really it.

The one she wore
on her wedding day.

So I'm told.

Go ahead.
Really?

Really.

She was small.

Most people
don't know that.

The shoulders
are so small.

It looks so perfect.

I bet it's the only time
she wore it.

That day.

She must have felt so happy.

Must've cost Dr. Gaskell
a lot.

I guess.

Walter never tells Sara
the truth about how much
he pays for these things.

You're really good friends
with the chancellor,
aren't you?

Pretty good.

I'm friends
with her husband, too.

I guess you must be
if you know the combination
to his closet,

and he doesn't mind
you being in here
in their bedroom.

Right.

(DOOR CLOSING)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

Drive carefully.
Stick close to me in case
it gets slippery, okay?

We better skedaddle.
James...

(SNIFFLING)

You all right,
James?

Oh. I'm sorry,
Professor Tripp.

Maybe it's

seeing that jacket
that belonged to her.

It just looks
really lonely

hanging there
in a closet.

Maybe I'm just
a little sad tonight.

I'm a little sad
tonight, too, James.

You mean, with your wife
leaving you and all?

Hannah mentioned
something about it.

Yeah, well,
it's complicated, James.

I think
we should go now.

(METAL JINGLING)

(SNIFFING)

(GROWLING)

(GASPS)
Easy, easy.

He's a good boy, Poe.
Poe's a good boy.
Easy, Poe.

Easy. Good dog.

(BARKING)
(YELLING)

Jesus Christ!
Get off!

(GUNSHOTS)

(PANTING)

Shit, James.

You shot Dr. Gaskell's dog.

But I...
I had to, didn't I?

You could've
pulled him off me.

No, the dog was crazy,
Professor Tripp.
He was attacking you!

The dog was
attacking you...
All right, calm down, James.

Calm down.
Don't freak out,
all right?

Okay. All right.
Do you have a mirror?

It's the best way to see
if someone's still breathing.

The dog is dead,
James. Believe me.

I know a dead dog
when I see one.

Oh, shit.

What are we
supposed to do now?

First, you're gonna give me
that little cap gun of yours.

Come on.

Professor Tripp,
what are we gonna do with

it?

(SIGHS) I don't know.
I'm still trying to
figure out

how to tell the chancellor
that I murdered
her husband's dog.

You?
Trust me, James.

When the family pet's been
assassinated, the owner
does not want to hear

that one of her students
was the triggerman.

Does she wanna hear it was
one of her professors?

I've got tenure.

Hang on.

(GRUNTING)

It's still warm.

Let's try
feet first.

(BOTH PANTING)

Yuck!
That is a big trunk.

It holds a tuba, a suitcase,
a dead dog and a garment bag
almost perfectly.

Yep. That's just what they
used to say in the ads.

Come on, Crabtree.
I know you're holding.

Whose tuba is that anyway?

Miss Sloviak's.
Can I ask you something
about her?

Yes, she is.

So is your friend Crabtree...

Is he... Is he gay?

Most of the time he is,
James. Some of the time
he isn't.

What do we have here?

This looks like...
(GRUNTS)

That's our old friend,
Mr. Codeine.

That should take the old
pinch out of the ankle.
You want one?

No thanks.
I'm fine without them.

Right.

That's why you were standing
in the chancellor's backyard

spinning that
cap gun of yours.

You're fine.
Yeah, you're just as fit
as a fucking fiddle.

(COUGHS)

(EXHALES)

(SIGHS) I'm sorry, James.
I'm sorry I said that.

(COUGHS)

How about
we try that again?

WALTER:
It is a great pleasure
to introduce

best-selling author
Quentin Morewood,

known to his friends
simply as Q.

(APPLAUDING)

(APPLAUSE SUBSIDES)

I am a writer.

(APPLAUDING)

As a writer, you learn that
everyone you meet has a story.

Every bartender,
every taxi driver

has an idea
that would make
a great book.

Presumably
each of you has an idea.

But how do you get
from there to here?

What is the bridge
from the water's
edge of inspiration

to the far shore
of accomplishment?

(LAUGHING)

Faith.

Faith that your story
is worth the telling.

Faith that you have
the wherewithal to tell it.

And faith that
the carefully woven structure
that you create

won't collapse beneath you.

And faith that when you
get to the other side,

there will be
someone waiting

who gives a damn
about the tale
you have to tell.

I'll be back
in a minute.

...like Whitman, I admit
I worship at the shrine
of formal construction.

But like Conrad,
I confess that I have
a secret sharer in my work.

My double, my other self.

I am haunted
by this malignant,
remorseless shadow...

(BREATHING DEEPLY)

(ECHOING) Grady.

Grady.

You had another one again,
didn't you?

Is the thing...

Is it over?

Almost. Wanna sit up?

(GROANING)

What's wrong?

Nothing,
I just twisted...

Sara, there's something
I've gotta tell you.

Something hard.

Stand up, then. I'm too old
for all this rolling around
on the floor.

Give me a hand?

(GRUNTING)

Well, this evening...
Don't.

I know what
you're gonna say.

I don't think you do know
what I'm gonna say, Sara.

You love Emily.
Of course you love Emily.
She's young, she's beautiful.

She's your wife.
You have to stay with her.

(STAMMERS)
But I don't have a choice.
Emily left me.

She'll come back.
That's why I'm going to...

(SOFTLY)
To not have this baby.

You're not gonna have it?

No, there's no way.
I mean, don't you
think there's no way?

(BREATHES DEEPLY)

Well, I don't see any,
but I know
what it means to you.

No, you don't.
And fuck you
for saying you do,

and fuck you for saying
that there's no way.

Because there could
be a way, Grady.

(DISTANT APPLAUSE)

They must be finishing.
We should go.

Whose gun is that?

A souvenir
from Baltimore.

It's heavy.
Smells like (SNIFFING)

gunpowder.
Caps.

Pow.

You got me.

(WHISPERS)
I love you, Grady.

Oh! The doors made
so much noise.

It was so embarrassing.
They had to carry him out.

Is he all right?
He's fine.
He's narrating.

They were going
to the men's room,

but would they
make it in time?

Terry Crabtree
and James Leer.

Leave it to you to make
that mistake. Wait here.

I need a ride.

I'm your man.

There's an explanation.

Couldn't he have
just thrown a shoe
at the poor thing?

Antonia, listen...

Tony. Now that I'm home.

Tony,

I'm sorry tonight
didn't work out the way
you'd hoped to with Terry.

Forget it. Your friend
is just, I don't know,

into collecting
weird tricks.

I think he'd
call it a habit.

I do get the feeling he's
going through the motions
a little bit.

You mean
because his career
is ruined and all?

Jesus, is that
what he told you?

He said he hasn't
had a success in
over five years, and

everyone in New York
thinks he's kind of a loser.

But he said he's sure
your book's so good that

he'll be able to
keep his job.

And you're not one of
those writers who has
a success and then

freezes up
and never has
another one.

You can turn here.

(DOG BARKING)

Gotta go. I think I may
have to rescue James Leer.

You know, Grady, maybe

you should think
about going home.

You look like you need
a little rescuing yourself.

(R&B MUSIC PLAYING)

MAN: Hey, Grady.
How are you?

(PEOPLE TALKING
INDISTINCTLY)

Can I get a double Dickel
on the rocks, please?
I'm right over here.

Double Dickel.
(CHUCKLES)

Is that just beer?

Primarily.

Although I gather
that the two of you
staged a little raid

on the Crabtree
pharmacopoeia.

GRADY:
So where is everybody?

Well,
Sara and Walter declined.
I guess they just wanted

to go home and curl up
on the couch with Poe.

Jesus, he's out.
He has a book.

I know. He started it
in fall semester.

Finished it winter break.

So is he any good?

No, not yet he isn't.

Well, I'm gonna
read it anyway.

Oh, Crabs, come on, will ya?
He's one of my students,
for Christ's sakes.

Besides, I'm not sure
if he's, uh...

He is.

I'm sure.
Take my word for it.
I see myself in him.

Oh, I'm sure you do,
but it's a little more
complicated than that.

Besides, he's a little
scattered right now.

He almost did something
really stupid tonight.

I don't think he needs
sexual confusion to mix up
the stew a little more.

On the contrary,
I think it might be
just the ticket.

Double Dickel
on the rocks.

"Oola"?

TERRY:
Thanks, Oola.

(GLASSES CLINK)
Cheers.

Cheers.
(GRUNTING)

Oh, my goodness.
Do you see what I see?

Look there.
Let's go. You first.

President of the James Brown
hair club for men.

He's a boxer.
A flyweight.

No, no, he's a jockey.
His name is Curtis,
Curtis Hardapple.

Not Curtis.

Okay then, Vernon.
Vernon Hardapple.

The scars are from a horse.
He fell during a race.
He got trampled.

He's addicted
to painkillers.

Yeah, he can't even piss
standing up anymore.

Lives with his mother.
That's right.

And he's got
a younger brother
who's a...

Who's a groom
named Claudelle.
Yeah.

And his mother blames Vernon
for Claudelle's death.

Great!

Because...
Because...

Because...
Because why?

(BOTH MUTTERING)

JAMES: He was killed
when a gangster named
Freddy Nostrils

tried to shoot
his favorite horse.

Claudelle took
the bullet himself.

Vernon, over there,

was in on the hit.

(JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING)

That was good.

Yeah, he heard
everything we said.

Come on, teach.
I want you to
dance with me.

No.
Come on.

So I've been rereading
Arsonist's Daughter.

It's so beautiful, Grady.

It's so natural.

It's like all of
your sentences
always existed,

just waiting up there
in style heaven for you
to fetch them down.

I thank you.

And I love the inscription
you wrote to me.

Only I'm not quite
the downy innocent
you think I am.

I hope that's not true.

We need all the downy
innocents we can get.

♪ And it's time to go

♪ I need your love so bad ♪

What this boy could use
is a nice, tall Coca-Cola.

Let me help.
No, we got him.
We got him.

I'll meet you two
at the car.
Oh, I see.

All right. Well, give me
the keys to the trunk.

I gotta get my property
out of there.

The trunk's a little sticky,
Crabs. I gotta do it.

Whatever.

Professor Tripp.

Hannah, when you get James
back to his apartment,

make sure he's all right
before you leave, okay?

I would if I knew
where I was taking him.

Hannah, are you telling me
you don't know where
James Leer lives?

Some apartment somewhere.
I've never seen it.

That strikes me
as very odd.

Well, James is odd.

I know his aunt
lives in Sewickley Heights.
I dropped him there once.

Come to think of it,
it wasn't even his
aunt's house.

He said she worked there
or something.

I don't remember.
I need my knapsack.

What's he saying?

His bag. You know that
ugly green thing he's
always carrying around?

He must've
left it inside.

(GRUNTING)

Aw, shit.
He left it at Thaw.
The auditorium.

Knapsack!

All right. Let him
crash at my house.

HANNAH:
Where should I put him?

In the shape that he's in,
you could stand him up
in the garage

next to the snow shovels
and he'd be all right.

(PANTING)

Grady, if you
wanna talk later,

I'll be up.

Hey, guy!
Tripp, the trunk.
You're killing me.

I'm gonna get it,
all right?
Killin' me!

MAN: You drivin'
this car?
Excuse me?

This 1966 maroon
Ford Galaxy 500.

You drivin' this car?
This is my car.

Bullshit! It's mine,
motherfucker!

I'm afraid
you're mistaken.

Bullshit!
TERRY: Who is that?

Oh, Vernon, go home
to your mother, will you?

What are you lookin' at?

I'm lookin' at you, fella.

(CHUCKLING)
Hit it, will you?
Come on, killjoy, go!

Can we go now,
den mother?

What's with you?

I wonder.
Come on, Crabs.
The kid was comatose.

Who started that?
I was trying to
calm him down.

Oh, yeah, you calmed him
down, Dr. Feelgood.
Q: Grady!

What?
Hit the brakes!

Stop! Hey!

What's his problem?

Back up!
Get out of the car! Hey!

TERRY: Go around,
go around him.

I'm stopping you!
I don't think so!

(WHOOPING)

Come back here!

What's this?
TERRY: It's a one-way, guy.

(TERRY WHOOPING)
(CAR HONKING)

Q: Go, go, go! Whoo!

TERRY:
Look out! He's back!

Now what?
TERRY:
You owe him a book, too?

You could always
drive over him.

What the hell
was that?

I just got
my hood jumped on.

Wait here.
I'll be right back.

Where would we go?

(MACHINE RUNNING)

(SINGING INDISTINCTLY)

Hold on a second.

Professor Tripp.

I guess you're here
for the backpack.

It's Traxler. Sam.

I saw the manuscript inside,
so when you showed up
I figured...

GRADY: The Love Parade.
So it was true.

The little prick
had finished his book.

Is it good?
I don't know.
It might be.

(BELL CHIMING)

So there it was.
Somewhere in the night,

a Manhattan
book editor was prowling
the streets of Pittsburgh,

best-selling author
at his side,

dead dog in his trunk.

Say, Professor Tripp.

Is all that stuff true
about Errol Flynn?

How he used to put paprika
on his dick

to make it,
you know, like,

more stimulating
for the chick?

Christ, Traxler,
how the hell should I know?

You're reading his biography,
aren't you?

Oh.

No, it's true.
He used to rub
all sorts of things on it.

Salad dressing,
ground lamb.

Sick.

GRADY:
Whenever I wondered
what Sara saw in me,

and I wondered
more than once,

I always came back
to the fact that
she loved to read.

She read everything,
every spare moment.

She was a junkie
for the printed word.

And lucky for me,

I manufactured
her drug of choice.

TRAXLER:
Is that your wife?

No, my wife's
out of town.

What exactly
are we doing here,

Professor Tripp?

Taking the long way home.

Take it easy,
Professor Tripp.

Thanks for the ride.

(YAWNING)

GRADY: I told myself
I needed to put everything
aside for the moment.

Emily, Sara,
the purloined jacket,

and the dead dog,
and work on my book.

It started out
as a small book.

Probably about,
oh, 250, 300 pages.

(DINGS)

It had gotten
a little larger in scope.

(KEYS CLATTERING)

And the ending,
it kept getting
further away.

But the ending was there.
I knew it.

I could almost see it.

James? I'm okay.

I just lost my balance.

I put you on the floor.

Oh. Thank you.

I thought you might
swallow your tongue
or something.

(SIGHS)

I guess you must
really miss her, huh?

Hmm? Oh, this. No.

No, I just write in this.
This wasn't Emily's.

I guess there's
probably a story
behind that.

There is, but it's
not very interesting.

Is all of that
single spaced?

I'm afraid so, yeah.

That's a really big book
you're writing.

Wow. Hannah always swore
you were working, but...

But?
Nothing.

It's just...
It's been a while since
Arsonist's Daughter,

and some people,
some of the kids
in workshop thought

maybe you were...

Washed up?

Blocked.

Well, I don't believe
in writer's block.

No kidding.
(PHONE RINGING)

You want me
to get that?

Please. Could you?

Glasses.

Thank you.

Hello?

(GRUNTING)

He didn't give his name.

Who?
The guy on the phone.

Well, what did he want?

He wanted to know if
a Grady Tripp lived here

and drove a dark maroon
1966 Ford Galaxy 500
with black interior.

Well, what'd you tell him?

Yes.

Oh, good, James.

Well, I just
thought maybe...
(WHISTLING)

Good morning, boys.

Good morning, James.

Good morning.

(WHISPERING)
Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy.

I'm gonna take a shower.

(WHISTLING)

(DOOR CLOSES)

Professor Tripp?
Hmm?

How did I get here
last night?

No one knows
where you live, James.

Hannah thought
you'd like my couch.

And before that,
did I do anything?

I mean,
did I do anything bad?

Well, James, you did
shoot the head of
the English Department's dog

and steal his most prized
piece of memorabilia.

Aw, shit.

Do yourself a favor.
Hide.

Good morning.
Good morning.

Professor Tripp?
That's right.

I understand
you attended an event

at Sara and Walter Gaskell's
house last night.

Yeah, what's this
all about, anyway?

Somebody pulled a B&E
on Dr. Gaskell's closet,

and the dog's missing.

I was just wondering
if you saw someone who
seemed suspicious maybe.

I wouldn't say
there was anybody
particularly suspicious.

About this kid,
student of yours, Leer?

James Leer?
You wouldn't
happen to know

how I could get
in touch with him,
would you?

I think I have his
number on campus.

That's all right.
We'll find him.

Morning.

You have a good one.

There you are.
I thought we were
going to talk.

(STAMMERS)
Well, I was...
JAMES: Professor Tripp?

(PHONE RINGING)
I heard what he said.

TERRY: Hey, Tripp!
What time's breakfast?

What do we do now?
Just one minute. Hello?

SARA: Grady?
Sara.

Thank God you're there.
You won't believe
what's happened.

Could you hold on
just a minute, honey?

May I ask you something,
Professor Tripp?

Sure, James.

Where exactly
are we going?

Well, there's a few things
I've got to do today.

See my wife...

The one that left you?

Yes, that's the one...

Ow! Oh, shit!
Son of a bitch!
Whoa.

Ooh, you're bleeding,
Professor Tripp.

No shit, James.

So where exactly
do you live, James?

Apparently, not even
Hannah Green has a clue

as to the location
of your apartment.

I got kicked out.

Well, not exactly kicked out.
I was asked to leave.

I guess there's
probably a story there.

There is, but it's
not very interesting.

So where are you staying?

At the...

The, uh, bus station.

It's not so bad.
I know the night janitor,

and there's a broken locker
I can put my stuff.

Jesus, James.
I mean, uh, for how long?

A couple of weeks.
That's why...

That's why I had the gun.
For protection.

You should've
told someone.

Who?

I don't know. Me?

GRADY: James' story was
the stuff of bad fiction,

and under
other circumstances,
I might've wondered

where the page
ended with him
and real life began.

But I had other things
on my mind.

The Gaskell house
looked deserted,

which figured since WordFest
was in full swing on campus.

What are we...
You ought to ease off
on that stuff, James.

It's pretty acidic.

I can't help myself.
I don't know what's
the matter with me.

James, you're hung over.

What do you think's
the matter with you?

I'll be right back.

GRADY:
I knew I needed to have
a heart-to-heart with Sara.

But until then,
I'd just make
a little gesture.

Feeling guilty?
(YELPS)

(EXHALING)

I can't believe you
hung up on me, you dick.

Sara, I am so sorry
about this morning.

There was a lot going on.

Walter's a basket case.

Someone stole
Marilyn's jacket
last night.

And Poe's missing.

Oh, I heard.

You heard? How?

I, uh... A 12-year-old
policeman came by
my house this morning.

Did you confess?
Your fingerprints
were all over the bedroom.

Really?
That was fast.

I'm joking. Hello!

Oh, right, right, right.

Look, about last night,
there's something I have
to talk to you about.

Okay.

(SIGHING)

Uh... I...

Well, I, um...

(SIGHS)
I want to be with you.

Gee, Grady,
that sounded so heartfelt.

No, really, Sara, I do.
Honest. I...

No, I believe
you want to be with me,

but this is not
good enough.

I know that. I mean,
I know what's
at stake here.

No, I don't think you do.

Besides, it doesn't matter.
I haven't decided yet.

About the baby?

That, and you.

I'm not gonna
draw you a map, Grady.

Times like these,
you have to do
your own navigating.

Why is your car over there?
And who's that sitting in it?

(SIGHS) James Leer.

What's he doing here?

I'm sort of helping him
through some issues.

Isn't he lucky?

(SOFT ROCK PLAYING
ON CAR RADIO)

She seemed
to take it pretty well.

Yeah, yeah, well,
the moment didn't
actually present itself.

(SIGHS) You feel like
taking a ride, James?

Yes.

Humboldt County?

Maybe.

My father, he gets it
from his doctor.

Glaucoma?

Colon cancer.

Jesus, James. Wow.

It's a bit of a scandal.
My parents live
in a small town.

Where's that?
Carvel.

Carvel?
Where's Carvel?

Outside Scranton.

I've never heard of it.

It's a hell hole.
Three motels
and a mannequin factory.

My dad worked there
for 35 years.

Your father worked
in mannequin factory?

Seitz Plastics.
It's where he met
my mom.

She was a fry cook
in the cafeteria.

Before that,
she'd been a dancer.

What kind of dancer?

Whatever kind they
wanted her to be.

Didn't you say
that your mom went
to Catholic school?

When we fall,
we fall hard.

♪ I really love
to watch them roll

♪ No longer riding
on the merry-go-round

I thought you were the guy
that didn't like to lose
control of his emotions.

Maybe I just
needed the moment
to present itself.

♪ I just had to let it go ♪

Mmm. Mmm!
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

GRADY: I had come
to the childhood home

of my soon-to-be ex-wife
to set things straight,

to say something
that would end things
on the right note,

to make Emily
feel better
about it all...

Or maybe to make me
feel better.

Truthfully,
I wasn't really sure
why I was there.

Someone jumped on your car
with their butt.

How can you tell?

Well, you can see
the outline of a butt.

You want one?
They're incredible.
Incredible.

Smoke the rest of
that joint, James,

you can start
chewing on the box.

Hey, maybe
she didn't come here.

She came here.

We'll just wait.

In the meantime, I'm gonna
need you to shimmy
right through there.

Relax, James.

Emily hasn't used her keys
since she was 15 years old.

Besides, your hips aren't
much bigger than hers.

It's not that.
Just reminded me
of what's in the car.

In the trunk?

Oh, right, right.

Let's try not to think
about that, okay?

Thank you.
Mmm-hmm.

Feels really good
in here.

Yeah, I know.

It's the kind of house
you like to wake up in
on Christmas morning.

I'll be right back.
Uh, make yourself at home.

I'm gonna make
a phone call.

Ah.

Mmm.

(CLOCK TICKING)

MAN ON TV:
There's no such thing as
a good influence, Mr. Gray.

All influence
is immoral.

MAN: Why?

Because the aim of life
is self-development,

to realize one's nature
perfectly.

That's what
we're here for.

A man should
live out his life fully
and completely,

give form to every feeling,
reality to every dream.

GRADY: Sitting there
among her things,

I was reminded
I didn't really
know Emily at all.

Even though
we had lived together
as man and wife,

it was when
I left the house,
when I was with Sara...

(RINGING TONE)
...that I felt like
I was home.

WOMAN: University.
Chancellor, please.

MAN ON TV: There's only
one way to get rid of
a temptation,

and that's
to yield to it.

Resist it and the soul
grows sick with longing

for the things it has
forbidden to itself.

Thank you.
(TV CONTINUES PLAYING)

(SWITCHING CHANNELS)

(JAZZ MUSIC PLAYING)

SARA ON PHONE:
Hello?
Sara? Hi, it's Grady.

Where are you?

Kinship. Listen, Sara,
there's something
I gotta talk to you about.

You're in Kinship.

Yes, but that's not
why I'm calling you.

You're with Emily.
What?

No, no, no.
There's no one here.
I'm just, uh...

Doing a little dusting?

(SWITCHES CHANNEL)
WOMAN ON TV:
♪ Good mornin'

♪ We've danced
the whole night through

♪ Good mornin'
Good mornin' to you

(HUMMING)
♪ Good mornin'
Good mornin'

♪ It's great to stay up late
Good mornin'

Sara, I am not here...
I'm not here to, uh,
reconcile with Emily.

It doesn't matter.

How you choose
to live your own life
is your business.

♪ To say good night
So good mornin'

♪ Good mornin'
Sunbeams will soon
smile through ♪

Sara,
you don't understand.

Probably not, but I have
something to say.

And I want you to
listen carefully, Grady.

Yes.

I can't wait for you
because if I do,

I could end up
waiting forever, so...

I'm going to make
this decision on my own.

Good-bye, Grady.
(HANGS UP)

MICKEY ROONEY ON TV:
Makin' a comeback.

Gee, it must be terrible
to be a has-been.

JUDY GARLAND:
Don't talk like that.
It scares me.

We gotta work harder.
Make a lotta dough...

(COUGHING)

Hello. Hi.

Ow.

It's infected.
I can clean it up.

But then you need
to see someone who
knows what he's doing.

How would you like
some hot chocolate and
fresh cookies to go with it?

That sounds nice.
Thank you.
You're welcome.

(BARKS)
This is really good
hot chocolate.

HANK: He's one of
your students, this boy?

(WHINING)

GRADY: Yeah,
he's a good kid.

He's just a little
messed up.

Oh, then I'm sure
he'll be fine with
the proper guidance.

WOMAN: So, you're
at the university
in Pittsburgh?

JAMES: I'm working
in a steel mill while
I finish my first novel.

So where's Emily, Hank?

I don't know if I should
tell you that, Grady.

I don't wanna stalk her.
I just wanna...

I wanna tell her
that I'm sorry.

I'm not trying
to get her back.

Things haven't
been right with us
for a while.

Well, all I know is
Emily felt you
weren't there for her,

and she's felt that
for a long time, Grady.

Right now, she's, uh...
She's in Philadelphia
visiting Linda Ashby.

For Christ's sakes,
they went to Wellesley
together.

Linda spent a week
at your house.

Oh, Linda! Oh, oh.
Yes.

I haven't been sleeping
a whole lot lately,

and I got my editor
in town.

I'm trying to finish
my book.

Ah, right. The book.

I hope it's really good,
Grady.

I'm having
a really good time,
Professor Tripp.

I'm really happy
for you, James.

Do me a favor.
Lay off my dope.

That stuff's
not for amateurs.

You're mad at me,
aren't you?

You're mad
because I shot
your girlfriend's dog.

It wasn't her dog.
It was her husband's.

Who said anything
about a girlfriend?

Okay, James,
I wish you hadn't shot
my girlfriend's dog,

even though Poe and I
were not exactly
what you call simpatico,

that's no reason
he should've taken
two in the chest.

I don't know.

You just keep acting
like a goddamn spook
all the time, James.

Well, I guess
that explains

why all the kids
in workshop hate me.

All the kids in workshop
hate you

because right now
you're ten times the writer

any one of them
will ever be.

My stuff stinks.

You said so
yourself last night
to your friend Crabtree.

I didn't mean it
like that.

And what does it matter
what I think?

I mean,
what does it matter
what anybody thinks?

Most people
don't think, James.

And if they do,
it's not about writing.

Books.
They don't mean anything.

Not to anybody.

Not anymore.

Arsonist's Daughter
meant something.

It meant something to me.

It's the reason
I came to school here.

To be taught by you.

It's one of the reasons
I wanted to become a writer.

Well, for that, James,
if nothing else,

I'm really sorry.

What are we doing?

I'm gonna get you
a nice meal,

a couple of cups of coffee,
then I'm taking you home.

Take me now.

What?

I'm not hungry.
James, you've gotta eat.

I'll get something
out of the vending machine.

Vending machine?
What are you
talking about?

At the bus station,
they have these
cheese sandwiches.

They're pretty good.
It's better if you
take me now.

That way,
Carl won't get my spot.

Carl?

Never mind.

James, go get us
a table, will ya?

I'm not letting
the most talented writer
in my class

eat some week-old
cheese sandwich, okay?

I'm not letting him
sleep on some bench
in a bus station.

So go on inside.
I'll... I'll be there
in a minute.

GRADY:
C-A-R-V-E-L.

Yes, I'm sure, ma'am.
It's outside of Scranton.

You have no listing.

Okay, well...

Lady, as we speak,
I am looking at a resident
of Carvel, Pennsylvania.

I'm sure he'd be
pretty interested
to learn

that the good people
at Bell Atlantic

have misplaced
his entire hometown.

It's not like
I'm making this up
as we go...

Never mind.
It's my mistake.

(HANGS UP PHONE)

JAMES:
You want a bite?
No, thanks.

That's why you're
having them,
your spells.

Spells?

Jesus, James,
you make it sound like

we're in
a Tennessee Williams play.

I don't get spells.

What would you
call them, then?

I don't know. Um...
Episodes.

Uh-huh. I just worry
about you, that's all.

You just worry
about yourself, okay?

Where you going?
Nowhere.

You just stay here and eat.
I'll be right back.

Good evening.

Professor Tripp.
Grady.

Fred Leer.
This is my wife Amanda.

Well, looks like I dashed
a wonderful evening here.

We were on our way
to a benefit, but
as luck would have it,

the club was on the way,
so we were able to put in
an appearance.

I just thought
it would be
good for James

to be with his family
this weekend.

Oh, well,
of course we can
understand that.

Right. Okay, I guess,
uh, I'll go get James.

Um...

I hope you don't
find this forward,
Amanda,

but I wonder
if I might ask.

Did you ever go
to Catholic school?

Excuse me?

I'm not going
with them.

Things are a little weird
for me right now, James.

Things are a little weird
for me right now, too.

I know, but I got
my editor in town,
I gotta finish my book,

and there's some
extenuating circumstances...
I won't bother you.

I won't even
talk to you.

James, like it or not,
those people out there
are your parents.

They're not my parents.
What?

They're my grandparents.
My parents are dead.

James, the man is
obviously your father.
You look just like him.

There's a reason
for that.

Oh, get out of here.

No. That's why
she hates me.

That's why she makes me
sleep in the basement.

Crawl space.
With the rats and the cask
of amontillado, right?

Well, it's true!
They treat me
like a freak!

Well, you are
a freak, James.

All right?
Welcome to the club.

You don't understand.
You don't know
what it's like.

You're right, I don't.

Don't expect me
to feel sorry for you,
all right?

Because I don't know
who you are.

Let me ask you
something, James.

In the past 36 hours,
have you told me
one thing that's true?

One thing
that comes from you?

I just wanted to stay
with you for a little while,
that's all.

I'm a teacher, James.
I'm not a Holiday Inn.

Thank you,
Professor Tripp.

(ENGINE STARTING)

♪ Old man
look at my life

♪ I'm a lot like you were

♪ Old man
look at my life

♪ I'm a lot like you were

Hey!

Hey.

♪ Old man
look at my life

♪ Twenty-four
and there's so much more

♪ Live alone in a paradise

♪ That makes me
think of two

♪ Love lost
such a cost

♪ Give me things
that don't get lost

♪ Like a coin
that won't get tossed

♪ Rolling home to you ♪

(CLAMORING)

Crabtree. Jesus.

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION)

Do you mind?

(DOOR OPENS)

Grady!
Hey.

Uh, I know
I shouldn't have,

but there it was
just in the open,
and I couldn't resist.

No, no. I just
can't believe that
I left it out like this.

TERRY:
Tripp, where are you?

Has Crabtree been in here?
Has he been snooping around?

I don't know. Maybe.
I don't think so.

Let's put this away.

TERRY: Tripp!

Oh, shit.

No. Um...

Don't go.
I've been waiting
all night for you.

I'm really flattered, honey,
but this just isn't...

(DOOR OPENS)

I'm sorry. Am I interrupting
a teacher-student conference?

No offense, Tripp.
You're not exactly
the most attentive host.

Well, you've been
taking good care
of that, huh, Crabs?

Sometimes
we have to improvise.

Where the hell
have you been anyway?

I took a drive
with James Leer.

He popped
the chancellor's dog,
didn't he?

What?

Yeah. First the police
thought he just ran away,

but this afternoon,
Dr. Gaskell found
blood spots on the carpet.

Oh, Jesus.

Most everyone figured
it was an intruder,

but right off Terry said it
sounded like something James
would be messed up in.

Has anybody else
come up with this
brilliant deduction?

Well, not yet, but they will.
It's just a matter of time.

Come on. You don't
even know James.

Who does?

I do. I do now.

I spent some time
with him,

and I read
something of his.

His book?
You read his book?
Yes.

Is it good?
It's good.
It's very, very good.

It's... It's true.

I knew it.
So where is he now?

I sent him home
with his parents.

What? What?
His parents?

Mmm-hmm.

Why? Why did you
do that for?

Because under
the circumstances,

I thought it was
the best thing
for him, but...

I'm beginning to think
maybe it was
the best thing for me.

I just, uh...
I wasn't there for him.

Imagine that.

Hannah, don't you remember
where you took James
that day?

Was it his aunt's?

Yes.

I told you,
Sewickley Heights.

What was
the address?
Mmm-hmm.

I don't know.
He had me drop him
on a corner.

Call the university.
I'm sure they know
where the guy lives.

Little late
to call admissions.

Is it a little late to call
the chancellor, hmm?

I don't know.
Maybe.
Hmm?

God, you really have
just made an awful,
stinky little mess

of everything,
haven't you?

Is that it?

Do not even think
about it.

Don't go near it.
No, no, no.

Never without
your permission,

but that is
a lot of book.
262 Baxter Drive.

They're in the book.

I'll drive.
I'll drive.

TERRY:
"The Love Parade."

I got a feeling
about this.

Look, I feel this kid
in my bones.

Only in your bones.

I've had
this feeling before.

Remember?

It's been
a long time, but...

How bad is it for you,
Crabs?

(SIGHS) It's pretty bad.

They've had enough of me.

They look at me like
I don't work there anymore.

I guess I just don't fit
the new corporate profile.

Which is?
Uh, gosh...

Competence.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

♪ Down on the highway

♪ Is a byway

♪ All alone ♪

GRADY: This is it.

(ENGINE TURNS OFF)

GRADY:
I had no business

trudging up
to James Leer's
parents' house

in the middle
of the night,

not when all that
really mattered

was trying to
make things right
with Sara.

But we had decided
to rescue James Leer.

I wasn't quite sure
from what

because I was
pretty much convinced

that everything that
came out of James' mouth
was basically horseshit.

Yikes.
Must be two dozen windows.

How are we
supposed to find his?

I told you.
They keep him chained
in the basement.

GRADY: But maybe that
didn't really matter.

Sometimes people
just need to be rescued.

♪ More than glad
to be unhappy

♪ Unrequited love's a bore ♪

Rodgers and Hart?
Yeah.

James Leer.
James Leer.

(TYPING)

(TYPEWRITER DINGS)

Hey. What are you guys
doing here?

Shh.
We're springin' you, Jimmy.
Put on some clothes.

Whoa. Well, I...
I love what you've done
with the place.

When's Captain Nemo
moving in?

I cannot believe
that you made fun
of my bathrobe.

The candelabras
were my great grandmother's.

Please. Don't start with
the family history,
all right?

I'll leave you
right here.

I just want you to know
I heard everything,
all right?

The parents
and grandparents

and the whole
Chinatown thing.

I believe you.
That's why we're here.
Now go get dressed.

I mean, do you mind
if I wear this again,
Professor Tripp?

Wear whatever
you want to.

He's so modest.
(WHISPERING)
He's so sensitive.

Tripp, why don't you
cut the kid some slack?

These are all
overdue library books,
every one of them.

Then it looks like
our Mr. Leer is facing
some monster late fees.

I just can't believe
all the shit he spins.

Just once I'd like to know
if the little bastard's
telling the truth.

Hey.

Check this out.

"Finally, the door opened.
It was a shock to see him

"shuffling into the room
like an aging prizefighter,
limping, beaten."

Does that sound like
anyone we know?

"But it was later when
the great man squinted

"into the bitter glow
of twilight..."

"Twilight." This kid
definitely needs an editor.

"And muttered simply,
'It means nothing.

"'All of it. Nothing.'
That the true shock came.

"It was then that
the boy understood

"that his hero's
true injuries lay
in a darker place.

"His heart..."

His heart what?

"His heart, once capable
of inspiring others
so completely,

"could no longer inspire
so much as itself.

"It beat now
only out of habit.

"It beat now only...

"...because it could."

JAMES: I'm ready.

You all right,
Professor Tripp?

He's fine, James.
Now, can we go

before granny
comes down here

and boils your bones
for breakfast?

That could
be a problem.

She's been coming down here
every half-hour or so
to check up on me,

and if I'm not here,
she might call the police
or something.

Okay. Decoy.

We'll put couple
of your pillows

and a little teddy bear
under the spread.

She won't know
the difference.

Like in
Against All Flags,

only they used a couple
of gigantic hams.

No, no, no, no.
I got a better idea.

Good night,
sweet prince.

(GRUNTS)

♪ Shadows are fallin'

♪ And I've been here
all day

(CLEARS THROAT)

TERRY:
Let's go upstairs.

Bad vibes down here.

Things must've picked up
after we left, huh, Grady?

♪ Feel like my soul has
turned into steel

(CAN RATTLING)

♪ I've still got the scars
that the sun didn't heal

♪ There's not even
room enough

♪ To be anywhere

(LAUGHING)

♪ It's not dark yet

Good night, bro.

♪ But it's gettin' there ♪

(CLATTERING)

(DIALING)

(RINGING TONE)

(RINGING CONTINUES)

SARA ON MACHINE:
You've reached the home
of Sara and Walter Gaskell.

Neither Walter or I
can take your...

WALTER ON PHONE: Hello.
Walter?

Grady? Oh, Christ,
Grady, do you know
what time it is?

Yeah. I got, uh, 8:15.

I don't think
that's right, though.

It's 3:30, Grady.

Well, this is important,
Walter.

Oh?

(SIGHS)
I, um... I...

What is it, Grady?

I'm in love
with your wife.

Excuse me?

Sara.
I'm in love with her.

Are you drinking,
Professor Tripp,
right now?

No.

Nevertheless, I'd like to
see you in my office
Monday morning.

(HANGS UP)

Oh, boy.

Sara, what...
I tried to call, but...

It seems there's
something wrong
with your phone.

It appears
one of our students
is missing,

and his parents
found a dead dog
in his bed.

It's my fault.
I'm sorry.

I've been trying
to tell you...

I'm not feeling very happy
with you right now.

And more importantly,
Walter isn't very happy.

He's gotten
the police involved.

They seem to think
James Leer is somehow
responsible for all this.

You wouldn't happen to
know where James Leer is,
would you?

He's inside.

And Marilyn's jacket?

Oh, it's in my car.

Somebody stole my car.
Oh, man!

Honestly!
Somebody stole my car!

I parked it right there
last night!

Are you sure
it was parked
right there?

Of course I'm sure!
It was...

Oh, Christ. Here comes
the puberty police now.

Okay, okay,
I'll deal with this.
You go dig up James.

(SIGHS)

Is he awake?

There's a police officer
on the porch, and he's
not going away.

That same guy?
Same one.

No offense, Professor Tripp,
but you look sort of crappy.

He's right. I mean,
you do look horrible.

It's the chancellor.

We're fine.
We're just fine.

JAMES: Fine, right.

Fit as a fuckin' fiddle.

James, come on.

Uh, James,
this book of yours?

It's not bad.
It's not bad at all.

Thank you.
You're welcome.

(WHISPERING)
I wanna publish this.

I think with the proper
editorial guidance,

this could be brilliant.

Aw, that's great.
That's great.

Between
Officer Pupcik and you,

he can be
the next Jean Genet.

Been a long time
since somebody wrote
a really good book in jail.

Don't you worry, James.
We're gonna figure
something out.

I'm not worried.
You're not worried,
are you, Professor Tripp?

I'm a little worried,
James.

Don't be.
I don't care
if they expel me.

I probably
should be expelled.

Well, let's hope
it doesn't come to that.

Professor Tripp...

Yes, James?

Even if I end up
going to jail,

you're still
the best teacher
I ever had.

I wonder if this is what
the university has in mind

when it promises
a liberal education.

Walter wouldn't
really press charges,
would he?

We'll know soon enough.

In a couple of hours,
he's gonna sit down
with the police

and James' parents,

and he was
a wee bit prickly
this morning.

You didn't happen
to call our house
last night, did you?

I think I might have, yes.

What do you think
you might have said?

I think I might have said
I was in love with you.

He told you.

He told me.

And what did you say?

I said it didn't
sound like you.

(ENGINE STARTING)

TERRY: Hey, Tripp!
(WHISTLING)

So, what do we do now?

Find the jacket!

Exactly how do
we do that?

I've got an idea
where it is.

We could ask Hannah
if we could borrow
her car.

Sure.
Keys are on the desk,
next to your book.

I didn't finish it.
Fell asleep.

Oh, it's that good, huh?

It's not that.
It's just...

It's just what?

(SIGHS)

Grady, you know how in class
how you're always telling us
that writers make choices?

Yeah.

And even though your book
is really beautiful,

I mean, amazingly
beautiful, it's...

It's, at times,
it's very detailed.

Uh...

You know,
with the genealogies
of everyone's horses

and the dental records
and so on and...

And I could be wrong,
but it just, it sort of
reads in places like...

You didn't really
make any choices.

At all.

And I was just wondering
if it might not be
different if...

If when you wrote,
you weren't always

under the influence.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Well...

Well, uh, thank you
for the thought.

But shocking
as it may sound,

I am not the first writer
to sip a little weed.

Furthermore, it might
surprise you to know

that one book
I wrote, as you say,
"under the influence"

just happened to win
a little something called
the PEN Award,

which, by the way,
I accepted
under the influence.

(CHUCKLES)

Hey, let me
help you with that.

Don't touch it.
Okay. I'll drive.

Let me get
this straight.

Jerry Nathan
owes you money,

so as collateral,
he gives you his car.

Only I'm beginning
to think that the car...

(HONKING HORN)
...wasn't exactly
Jerry's to give.

Ah, so whose car
was it?

My guess?
Vernon Hardapple.

The hood jumper?

He said a few things
that lead me to believe
that the car was his.

Such as?

"That's my car,
motherfucker."

All right,
so we find Vernon,
we find the car.

We find the car...
We find the jacket.

(TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWING)

Wow. Christ!
How'd you know, Tripp?

Oh, I don't know.
Let's just call it
a hunch.

I call it genius.

Good to know I'm still
talented at something.

Careful.

Keep that motor running.

I know you.

Double Dickel
on the rocks.

Oola.

I never forget a drink.

I never forget an Oola.

VERNON: Forget me?

Vernon?

Go inside, cupcake.
He's got a gun.

GRADY:
Who's got a gun?

You've got a gun!
Drop it!

Uh-oh.
Vernon, relax.

Why is he calling
you Vernon?

Why is he sitting
in my car?

He's crazy, that's why!
He probably calls
everybody Vernon.

Now drop that gun!
Oh, dear.

It's a souvenir.
They don't even have caps
for this thing.

It's a souvenir.
Bullshit!

I know a gun
when I see one!

And that's a gun!
No! No, really.

(GUNSHOT)

(OOLA SCREAMING)
TERRY: Oh, God! Oh!

Give me that gun!
Are you crazy?

Can't you see the condition
my girl's in?

Get out! Get out!

Hey! Stop!
(HONKING HORN)

Cupcake, you okay?

(ENGINE STARTING)
Tripp, run!

VERNON:
Who in the hell is that?
(HONKING CONTINUES)

Oh, shit!

Vernon, don't...
No! Don't shoot!

Oh, no! Don't!
(SCREAMING)
Don't shoot!

Come on, Tripp!
Jump in! Run!

He's a crazy man.

(HORN HONKING)

(TIRES SCREECHING)
(HORN BLARING)

Oh, my God.

GRADY:
I take it back.

Shoot him.

Naturally,
you have copies.

I have
an alternate version
of the first chapter.

You'll be all right, then.
Look at... Look at Carlyle
when he lost his luggage.

That was Macaulay.
Oh.

Well, what about Hemingway
when Hadley lost
all those stories?

He was never able
to reproduce them.

Look, Tripp, I don't wanna
depreciate the loss here.

But maybe, you know,
in a sense,
it's for the best.

You suggesting
it's some kind of sign?

In a sense.

In my experience,
signs are usually
a little more subtle.

Let me get this straight.
All that paper that
blew away back there,

that was the only copy?

I'm afraid so, yes.

And you, you're saying
that it's some kind
of a sign?

Man, what in the fuck
the matter with you?

Don't.

All I'm saying
is that sometimes,
subconsciously,

a person will
put themselves
in a situation,

perhaps even create
that situation,

in order to have an arena
in which to work out
an unresolved issue.

It's a covert way,
if you will,
of addressing a problem.

I'll tell you
the problem.

You behind the wheel,
there's your problem.

Excuse me.
Did you or did you not
have a gun to his head?

OOLA: Watch the road, please.
He was trying
to steal my car.

Let me ask you a question.
Did you or did you not
have a gun to his head?

OOLA: (YELLING)
Watch the road!
(ARGUING)

All right!
All right!

That's enough!
That is enough!

What is done is done!
I don't wanna hear
about it anymore, okay?

So what was it about,
your book?

What was the story?

I don't know.

What he means is
it's difficult to distill

the essence
of a book sometimes

because it lives
in the mind.

VERNON: But you got to know
what it was about, right?

If you didn't know
what it was about,
why were you writing it?

I couldn't stop.

(BELL CHIMING)

(TIRES SCREECHING)

Vernon,
can I ask you a question?

Boy or girl?

(GIGGLES)

As long as it
looks like her,

I really don't care.
You...

You know what
I'm saying?

Yeah.

Thanks for the ride,
Vernon.
Anytime.

And another thing.
Yeah?

Stop calling me Vernon.

Okay.

(WHISPERING) Jacket, Tripp.
What?

We need the jacket.

Oh, right.

Oola, about that jacket...

Yeah.

It used to belong
to Marilyn Monroe.

Really?
Mmm-hmm.

She had small shoulders.

Just like you.

A lot of people
don't know that.

Thank you.

Man, that book of yours
must have been
one nutty ride.

Come on, baby, let's go.

Would you mind
explaining to me
what you just did?

Came to my senses.

Oh. Congratulations.
Meanwhile, what's James
supposed to do?

Pray that Walter Gaskell
comes to his?

Walter Gaskell
doesn't wanna send
James Leer to jail.

He's up in his office
right now.

He's talking
to his parents,
local police,

trying to
find a solution.

Tripp, the least
they're gonna do
is expel him.

(SIGHS)
It doesn't matter.

That's very enlightening,
Professor.

It's comforting to know
that America's children
have you for a teacher.

Nobody teaches a writer
anything.

You tell 'em
what you know.

You tell 'em
to find their voice
and stay with it.

You tell the ones
that have it
to keep at it.

You tell the ones
that don't have it
to keep at it, too,

because that's the only way
they're gonna get to where
they're going.

Of course,
it does help if you know
where you wanna go.

Helping my students
figure that out,

that and Sara,

that's what's made
these last years
worthwhile.

As for James, well,
he doesn't really
need me anymore.

He's got you.

Me?

What can I do?

Oh, I don't know, Crabs.

Improvise.

You're pretty good at that.

Tripp.

I'm sorry.

Improvise.

GRADY: As for me,
I was through improvising.

I knew what I had to do.
I had to find Sara.

I had to convince her
that she was my choice.

That, in fact, she had been
from the very beginning.

(AUDIENCE APPLAUDING)

And now, as those of you
who've been with us
in previous years know,

we have a tradition
of sorts here at WordFest.

I'm speaking, of course,
of the plums,

those fortunate local writers
who have successfully
placed their manuscripts

with visiting publishers'
representatives.

This weekend,
Susan Lowery
of North Braddock

found a publisher
for her children's book,
The Loneliest Prawn.

Stand up, Susan.

(ALL APPLAUDING)

Now, this next one is,
I think, very exciting
to announce

because it concerns
a student here
at the university.

Our own James Leer,

sophomore
in English Literature,

has found a publisher
for his first novel,

which I believe is called,
The Lovely Parade.

(ALL APPLAUDING)

Love Parade.
Love Parade.

James?

Stand up. Go on.

He's a real alien probe,
if you know what I mean.

Take a bow, James!

(ALL CHEERING)

Wonder boy.

And finally, and perhaps
not least importantly,

Terry Crabtree of Bartizan
has also decided to publish
my own book,

a critical exploration of
the union of Joe DiMaggio
and Marilyn Monroe

and its function
in American mythopoetics,

which, tentatively,
I have entitled,

The Last American Marriage.

(ALL APPLAUDING)

So, until next year,
thank you, everyone.

Grady, I took another look
at The Arsonist's Daughter
the other night.

That description
of the bald cypress
left me breathless.

Thanks, Q.
I appreciate that.

(DOOR CLOSES)

(DOOR CLOSES)

(PANTING)

Sara!

(DOOR OPENS)

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

(TRAXLER HUMMING)

(SIGHS)

Yo, Traxler.

(WHISTLES)

Hey, Professor Tripp.

You get high, Sam?

Only when I'm workin'.

Holy shit.

Are you serious?

Careful there,
Professor Tripp.

Whoa.

GRADY:
I didn't fall.

Not then,
not ever again.

Once the Monongahela River
swallowed my
never-ending opus,

there were
no more spells.

James Leer didn't get
expelled or go to jail,

thanks to Crabtree's
wheeling and dealing.

But he quit anyway,
went to New York

to rework his novel
for publication.

Hannah Green has decided
to take a position
as a junior editor

when she graduates.

And Crabtree, well,
Crabtree's gone right on
being Crabtree.

As for me,
I lost everything.

My wife, my book,
my job,

everything that I thought
was important.

But I finally knew
where I wanted to go.

(CAR APPROACHING)

And now I had someone
to help me get there.

♪ A worried man
with a worried mind

♪ No one in front of me
and nothin' behind

♪ There's a woman on my lap
and she's drinkin' champagne

♪ Got white skin
Got assassin's eyes

♪ I'm lookin' up into
the sapphire-tinted skies

♪ I'm well dressed
Waitin' on the last train

♪ Standin' on the gallows
with my head in a noose

♪ Any minute now
I'm expecting all hell
to break loose

♪ People are crazy
and times are strange

♪ I'm locked in tight
I'm out of range

♪ I used to care
but things have changed

♪ This place ain't
doing me any good

♪ I'm in the wrong town
I should be in Hollywood

♪ Just for a second there
I thought I saw something move

♪ Gonna take dancing lessons
Do the jitterbug rag

♪ Ain't no shortcuts
Gonna dress in drag

♪ Only a fool in here
would think he's got
anything to prove

♪ Lot of water
under the bridge

♪ Lot of other stuff too

♪ Don't get up, gentlemen
I'm only passin' through

♪ People are crazy
and times are strange

♪ I'm locked in tight
I'm out of range

♪ I used to care
but things have changed

♪ I've been walkin'
40 miles of bad road

♪ If the Bible is right
the world will explode

♪ I've been trying to get
as far away from myself
as I can

♪ Some things are
too hot to touch

♪ The human mind
can only stand so much

♪ You can't win
with a losing hand

♪ Feel like falling in love
with the first woman I meet

♪ Putting her in a wheelbarrow
and wheeling her
down the street

♪ People are crazy
and times are strange

♪ I'm locked in tight
I'm out of range

♪ I used to care
but things have changed

♪ I hurt easy
I just don't show it

♪ You can hurt someone
and not even know it

♪ The next 60 seconds
could be like an eternity

♪ Gonna get low down
Gonna fly high

♪ All the truth in the world
adds up to one big lie

♪ I'm in love with a woman
who don't even appeal to me

♪ Mr. Jinx and Miss Lucy
They jumped in the lake

♪ I'm not that eager
to make a mistake

♪ People are crazy
and times are strange

♪ I'm locked in tight
I'm out of range

♪ I used to care
but things have changed ♪