All language subtitles for Highway To Heaven s02e18 To Bind the Wounds.eng

[music playing]

Well, what do you know?

What do I know about what?

I mean, it can't be.

What can't be.

Got to be something in here.

Mark, what's something?

The bad news.

I mean, I can't find any
bad news in this newspaper.

I cannot remember ever
reading a newspaper where

there wasn't any bad news.

I realize it's
just a local paper.

But not one bit of bad news?

I mean, look at this.

The economy is up.

People are happy.

It's like, for once, all the bad
times are behind us, you know?

Oh, even though
it is for one day.

It's like one of those days.

God's in his heaven and all
is right with the world.

I mean even the one piece
of sad news is kind of good.

Yeah, what piece is that?

Well, there's this-- this guy.

He's a local kid.

He was reported missing
in action for 18 years.

The Vietnamese are
sending his remains home.

That means his family is finally
going to get to bury him today.

I mean, do you
realize how tough that

had to have been, I mean,
never knowing for sure,

all that time?

18 years after being
reported missing in action--

Timothy Charles Jr.
is finally coming home.

How did you know what it said?

He's our assignment.

Mr. Charles.

What?

Mr. Charles, uh, I can wait
a little longer before we

start if you like, but--

No, no, no.

I guess no one's going to show.

I j-- I don't
understand how they

could all have forgotten him.

Well, it's been 18 years.

People move away.

He was so popular.

In high school-- no,
not just high school,

for as long as I can
remember, the house

was always full of kids.

The noise would drive
you crazy though.

There was a whole gang of them,
before and after the game,

the whole team.

You'd just see
this bunch of kids.

And he'd be in the
center of it, see,

laughing and telling jokes.

Why didn't they come, Padre?

Why didn't this noisy
damn bunch of kids

show up at my son's funeral?

You go ahead and start.

Don't you cut it short.

And don't leave out one thing.

I want you to do it as though
all these chairs were occupied.

Do you understand?

Yes, sir.

I-- I will.

There's one thing
you can leave out.

All this merciful Father crap
and all this other stuff,

because I don't believe in
a God that could take my boy

and not let even one of
his friends remember.

Just read what it
says on his citations.

CHAPLAIN: Yes, sir.

Timothy Charles, Jr.
has come home today.

Warrant Officer Charles
was an exemplary soldier

and a loving son.

As a helicopter
pilot in Vietnam,

he rescued many hundreds of men.

[car door opens]

He died in the line of duty--

[car doors close]

--fulfilling the motto
of his fellow pilots.

That motto has
only three words--

duty, not rewards.

He'll be mourned by--

[sighs]

--by us all.

Ready, load.

Ready, aim, fire.

[gunshot]

Aim, fire.

[gunshot]

Aim, fire.

[gunshot]

Cease firing.

Present arms.

[trumpet playing taps]

Forward, arm, left
face forward march!

[footsteps fading]

Charles?

Did you know my son?

I don't remember you.

We're not from around here.

My friend and I were
just passing through.

We saw your notice in the paper.

I met your son a long time ago.

Oh, where?

In the service,
Vietnam or something?

Yeah.

Yeah, I really
didn't know him well.

Like I said, I
just met him once.

But one thing I do remember
about him, that was his smile.

Look, uh, you fellows want
to come over to the hangar.

I've got some refreshment
and stuff set up there.

My place is too small.

I-- I've been living in
a trailer since my wife

Maggie died.

And it's too small
to hold a wake.

Irish, you know.

I'm sort of babbling, aren't I?

Hey, that's OK.

I guess we could
hold old Timothy's wake

in a broom closet, couldn't we?

Look, Mr. uh--
- Smith.

Jonathan Smith.

Mark Gordon.

I wish you could come over,
just for a little while.

I need to talk about him.

I-- I talk about him
all the time anyway.

But usually I'm the
only one in the room.

We'd love to come.

[music playing]

TIMOTHY CHARLES: It's
something all right.

It's a graveyard for planes.

Lots of ghosts.

Lots of ghosts.

I come down here a lot,
ah, too much probably.

I flew a bomber in
the Second World War.

MARK: You were a bomber pilot?

Yeah, leather jacket,
cap set at a jaunty angle,

knees shaking, wet
pants most of the time.

[laughing]

I was a regular flyboy.

I got my wings when I was
a 20-year-old kid, just

about the same age that
Timmy was when he got killed.

Quick reflexes when
you're a kid, you know?

Timmy was a good pilot.

He was an athlete.

And he was very responsible.

He wasn't foolhardy, you know?

What kind of
plane did you fly?

What kind?

I'll not only show you the
kind, I'll show you the plane.

You mean the
actual plane flew?

In the flesh,
what's left of it.

There she is.

Her and me, we're in
about the same shape now.

MARK: Maggie's Pride.

TIMOTHY CHARLES: Yeah,
named her after my wife.

Well, she wasn't my wife then.

She didn't take too
kindly to the idea

when she heard about it.

But I was the Skipper.

And that's what we called her.

Ah, but she was only
pretending to be angry I

bet she was really flattered.

Yeah, that's right.

I remember when I first
saw her, it was in a train

station in Kansas City.

I'd been stationed out
there for a little while.

I remember she-- she
had this sweater on.

And.

She was just-- she
was just buxom.

[laughing]

Yeah, I remember it
was like yesterday.

There was this
red-haired buxom gal.

I used to bring Timmy, and we'd
sit up there in the cockpit.

And he'd-- he'd ask what
Maggie was so proud about.

And she used to
pretend to be mad.

If I didn't come
down here so much

and talk about it all the
time, maybe he wouldn't

have wanted to be a pilot.

But he loved me a lot.

He wanted to be just like me.

If I hadn't filled his head with
so much of this damn stuff--

Tim, your boy
was proud of you.

He loved you.

He was lucky to
have you for a dad.

If he was so damn lucky,
how come he's so damn dead?

I'm sorry.

Look, let's-- let's
go get a drink.

This is supposed to
be an Irish wake.

[door squeaks open]

I'm sorry.

It's a big mess here.

But like I said, the--

the trailer is too small.

Oh, how about a cold one?

Oh, that sounds good.

- How about you?
- No, no.

I'm fine, thank you.

Why don't you help
yourself to some food.

There's-- there's
plenty of it there.

Make a sandwich.

Thanks.

He was a fine looking boy.

TIMOTHY CHARLES: He was better
than me by the time he was 14.

I don't know, kids are getting
bigger and bigger all the time.

You don't know
where it will end.

I should have been killed a
hundred times over in the war.

But I wasn't.

It's the draw of
the cards I guess.

I figure I'm living
on borrowed time.

He was a wonderful kid.

We were lucky to have
him as long as we did.

What gets me, though, is
that people don't remember.

Or if they do, they
just don't care.

You remember.

So what?

His mother's dead.

I'll be dead soon enough.

It's just that I'd like to
know before I die that--

that someone
remembered him, that it

wasn't all just in vain.

That boy lived.

He walked the Earth.

He helped people.

He-- he lit up a room
when he walked into it.

Look at you.

You-- you met him just for
a second and you remember.

And with the others, it's
as though he didn't exist.

Maybe you can
help them remember.

How?

Yeah, well, let's face
it, the article in the paper

was pretty small.

Maybe people just missed it.

Look, you could take an ad.

I mean, there must be
people in this town

who remember him, who
went to school with him,

were touched by him.

Maybe you could even
start a scholarship fund

in his name to help kids, kids
who would remember his name,

kids who'd know that Timothy
Charles, Jr. must have been

a pretty special guy because
a bunch of his friends

got together and all
chipped in to start

a fund to help children.

I mean, I think
people would do that.

They'd just have to know
about it, that's all.

Timmy would like that.

Yeah, he would.

Well, what are we waiting for?

Let's put the ad in the paper.

Yeah, right.

Let's go.

Not one response.

I'm sorry, Tim.

Yeah, right.

People, give them a chance.

Well, we tried.

That's the end of it.

It's all for nothing, isn't it?

What?

Life, everything.

It's all for nothing.

I don't believe that.

Well, then,
you're a sucker pal.

You're a grade-A chump.

You going to tell me
there's some kind of plan,

that we're all going to
meet in the great beyond.

Would you believe me
if I did tell you that?

I'd believe you were an idiot.

You don't happen to see an
angel walking around out there?

I sure as hell don't.

Ah, you know, most people
would an angel if he came up

and sat down right next to him.

One thing I will tell
you, it's not over.

Oh, yeah.

What are we supposed to do
now, go from door to door

and beg his old
friends to remember?

Or you're going to tell me
the ad wasn't big enough,

maybe the front page of the
"New York Times" would do.

You're beating a dead
horse, my friend.

People don't care.

People don't remember.

Out of sight, out of mind.

You know what will
be left of my son

after I'm gone, a grave
that nobody visits.

People will walk by and wonder
who-- who's buried there.

And you're telling me
it's not all for nothing.

Well, you don't have an
answer for that, do you?

Do you?

Mr. Barker, my name
is Jonathan Smith.

I told my secretary to
tell you that I was busy.

Well, Mr. Barker, Tim
Charles was a boy who went

to school with your son Ted.

He died in Vietnam.

What we're trying to do
is set up a scholarship

fund in his name so--

I don't care about what
you're trying to do, Smith.

My son was in Vietnam.

He was wounded
there, almost killed.

I think our family's
given enough.

Tim Charles gave
his life, sir.

My son spent two years
in a hospital, Smith.

And I hate that war.

And I hate everything
to do with it.

It makes good sense to
hate any war, Mr. Barker.

My son still wakes
up with nightmares.

I am not going to aggrandize
that kind of a fiasco

by contributing to some
kind of war memorial.

It's not a war memorial.

It's a scholarship fund for
children in the name of a boy

who died so others could live.

You must have known him.

He was probably in your home.

Why don't you take a
look at his picture.

You might remember him.

Now, I don't need to
take a look at anything.

And I don't need
anyone to come in here

and remind me and my family of
a war that we need to forget.

Have you ever
talked to your son

about what he went
through over there?

My son is trying
to forget what

he went through over there.

But you've never asked him
what he went through, have you?

That's none of your business.

Maybe that's why he
still has nightmares.

Get out of here.

I said, get out.

You know, there's some things
that shouldn't be forgotten

and some people who
mustn't be forgotten.

[door closes]

What was his last name again?

Charles, Tim Charles.

[muttering]

He went to high
school in this town.

He was a classmate of yours.
You must remember him.

Yeah.

Yeah, I think so, some kind
of football star or something?

Right.

Yeah, I didn't play football.

Uh, I didn't hang
around with those guys.

They got all the girls and--

Mr. Lee, all Tim
got was killed.

Were you in Vietnam?

No, I wasn't.

I mean, I didn't do
anything to get out of it.

I-- I wasn't drafted.

They met their quota.

Did you get drafted?

No, I joined up.

Hey, well, I didn't, OK.

I'm getting a little tired of
these guys parading around with

their camouflage
shirts trying to make

me feel guilty because I
was lucky and they weren't.

I mean, I don't see how
because they got drafted

and I didn't, that makes
them some kind of big heroes.

Yeah, well, I'm not trying
to make you feel guilty.

A classmate of yours
got blown away.

And some people want to
start a scholarship for it.

Yeah, well, I got my
own scholarship fund.

I got a kid graduating
from high school.

I got to save every cent I can
to put her through college.

I got to think of her future.

I got to take care
of my own, you know.

Tim Charles is
one of your own.

So is every man who
wore the uniform.

I didn't know the guy, OK?

Look, I'm sorry he got killed.

I really am, but
that's the way it goes.

I don't owe him anything.

I don't owe you anything.

I didn't say you did.

Hey, like I said, I got lucky.

He didn't.

If it were the other
way around, he'd be here

telling you the same thing.

No.

No, he wouldn't.

[door closes]

Mr. Smith, I just don't see
what this has to do with me.

Well, boy that
lived in this town.

I've never had much
to do with the children

who lived in this town.

I don't have any children.

All I have is Queenie Jr. here.

We're all the family we've got.

Oh, I know.

But you must have known the boy.

He lived just down the block.

Mr. Smith, I don't
mean to be unkind.

But I'm a senior citizen.

I live on a fixed income.

I don't have the
money to-- well, just

to throw around for every cause.

And besides, I never had
much to do with politics.

This had nothing to do
with politics, Mrs. Foley.

I mean, this is a scholarship
fund to try to help children.

And who's going to help me?

I'm an old person.

They have the future.

I don't.

All I have is Queenie Jr. here.

I'm sorry, Mr. Smith, but
this boy, this scholarship,

fund the war, it just has
nothing to do with me.

It never has.

I'm sorry.

Come on, Queenie.

[bark]

[door closes]

[knocking]

TIMOTHY CHARLES: Yeah,
yeah, come on in.

Come on in.
[door opens]

Hey, how are you doing?

Hey, Jonathan.

I just wanted to return this.

Oh, yeah, set it
down there, will you?

Thanks.

And thanks for trying to help.

It didn't work
out, but you tried.

It's crazy, isn't it?

You're a stranger and you tried.

Ah, the hell with them.

They don't want to remember,
the hell with them.

Like I said, it's
all for nothing.

Hey, wait a minute.

I'm not done trying.

Not over yet.

Yeah, right.

Look, I know you mean well.

But I don't want you to go
around begging that bunch

of ingrates to remember my boy.

He doesn't deserve that.

Look, I'm not going
to do any begging.

And I'm not doing this
just for you boy anymore.

What are you talking about?

There's too many
people in this town

trying to forget too many things
and for all the wrong reasons.

There's too many wounds
here that haven't healed.

I don't give a damn
about their wounds.

They forgot about my son.

Now I want to forget about them.

I--

Tim, you all right?

Yeah, I'm all right.

I'm all right.

I just-- I just want
to sit down now--

Why don't you--

[coughs]

Thanks.

You know what?

This is all a
crazy dream anyway.

I-- I just wish--

What?

I just wish I could see
him again, see that smile,

hear that laugh, hear
him say, hi, pop.

I'm home.

Maybe you will someday.

Yeah, sure, up--
up in the clouds.

Just leave me alone.

Um, I'm-- I'm tired.

Sure.

I'll see you later.

I just hope those people
sleep good at night.

I bet they do know, you know?

I wouldn't be so
sure of that, Tim.

At least not tonight.

[door closes]

[music playing]

[gunfire]

I'm hit.

Sarge, I'm hit.

Where are the choppers?

When do the choppers get here?

Oh, God!

When do the choppers get here?

[helicopter engine roaring]

[MISSILES FIRING AND

EXPLODING]

EXPLODING]

EXPLODING]

Come on, Ted.

Timmy.

Timmy is that you?

Don't try to talk.

We're going to get
you out of here.

Tim, I never knew it you.

You were delirious then.

How could you remember?

Timmy, you gotta
get me out of here

I will.

I will.
Come on, buddy.

We're going home.

We're going home.

[gunfire]

[kaboom]

Home.

I'm going home.

I'm going home.

I'm going home.

I'm going home.

[crickets chirping]

Gary, wake up.

Come on.
Up and at 'em.

Wake up.

[yells]

All right.

All right, take it easy.

(STUTTERING) What
are you doing here?

Who are you?

I'm the guy who talked
to you the other day

about the scholarship fund.

Oh, you got to be crazy
coming in here like this.

I'm calling the cops.

Gary, Gary, Gary, look.

Oh, don't start
anything with me.

I'm warning you.

Gary, will you look?

See that?

You're still asleep.

I'm having a dream
about you, that's all.

You're having
a dream about me?

Right.

Well, get out of my--

get out of my house.

I'm trying to have a dream about
Christie Brinkley over here.

You want to have a dream,
do it in your own place.

This is my place.

I don't want to dream about you.

I don't want to
dream about you,

but evidently Jonathan does.

Who's Jonathan?

That's a long story.

This is a short dream.

Come on.

GARY: Where?

To you're draft board.

That's my closet, you jerk.

Not tonight.

Come on.

Let's go.

You recognize that
young fellow over there?

Get your draft notice too?

No, uh, they want to ask me
about my student deferment.

Yeah, that's me when I was 18.

Hey, how'd you do that?

Never mind.

Just listen.

Didn't we have a
biology class together?

Yeah, student deferment, huh?

What did you get, a
football scholarship?

Yeah, sort of.

What do you mean, sort of?

Uh, I got--

I got a couple of scholarships.

You football jocks
make me sick, you know?

Just because you can
throw a ball around,

they're not going
to draft your butt.

I'm engaged to be married.

Think that means anything?

I don't know.

Does it?

No way.

I'm history, man.

They're going to ship
my butt to Vietnam.

It isn't fair.

You're right.

That's not fair.

Well, hey, uh, don't lose
any beauty sleep over it,

all right?

You know, because while
you're out there dating

sorority girls, I'm
going to be over there

in those rice paddies.

That isn't fair.

Timothy Charles, Jr.

That's-- that's me.

RECRUITER: Would you step
over to the table, please?

Who knows, uh,
maybe you'll get lucky

and someone will volunteer.

Fat chance.

I'm history, man.

So is my marriage.

Now do you recognize him?

Yeah, that's right.

He was in the draft
board that day.

That's right, with a student
deferment in his pocket.

Guess he never used it.

You mean, he--

That's right.

He went in your place.

See you around, Lucky.

I never knew.

I swear to you.

I never knew.

I never knew.

Gary?

What?

Are you all right?

Well, yeah.

I guess I was just dreaming.

Miss Foley.

Miss Foley.

Uh, don't-- don't
be afraid, ma'am.

This is just a dream.

Oh, it's you.

That's right.

Jonathan?

Yeah?

This is a dream?

That's right.

Oh, my, I haven't had a
dream like this in a long time.

A dream like what?

Oh, don't be coy, big boy.

There may be snow on
the roof, but there's

still heat in the furnace.

Miss Foley, I'm afraid that
isn't that kind of a dream.

Oh, what a shame.

Where's Queenie Jr.

She hasn't been born yet.

What?

This is a dream
about Queenie, Sr.

Queenie, Sr. Oh,
is she in my dream?

You bet she is.

She was just a puppy.

Come on.

Dream's right outside.

It's awfully bright.

Your eyes will get
used to it a second.

Where's my Queenie?

Oh, she's been gone for years.

Hey, remember when
she was a pup, how she

used to run away all the time?

Why, yes, she
was a naughty girl.

You remember the time
she ran away and didn't

come back for a long, long time

Yes.

Yes, I remember now.

There was an accident.

She-- she was hurt.

And-- and somebody
called me, a little boy.

TIMMY: Here she is, Miss Foley.

You naughty girl.

What happened?

She ran out in
front of this car.

It hit her and kept
right on going.

I took her to the vet.

He said she's going to be OK.

You did that?

Yeah, she's a real sweet pup.

She's an awfully lucky
pup that someone like

you was around to help her.

What's your name?
- Timmy.

Timmy Charles.

We live down the street.

Well, Timmy Charles,
you saved my baby's life.

And I'll never forget it.

Ah, that's OK.

What's her name, anyway?

Queenie.

Queenie, huh, well, if
she ever has any pups,

I'd sure like to have one.

I'll remember
that Timmy Charles.

I surely will.

OK.

Bye bye, Queenie.

Bye, Miss Foley.

Now do you remember?

That was the boy.

But he's too young
to be a soldier.

He grew up.

I tried to find him
when she had her litter,

but they moved away.

To the other side of town.

I should have remembered him.

Tell me how to help the others--

the other children.

This is only a dream.

You can't help them in a dream.

[thunder crashing]

I have to go now.

Goodbye, Miss Foley.

No, but I want to.

Please tell me how
I can help them.

Tell me how I can help them.

[dog whines]

JONATHAN: Good morning.

Oh, morning.

What's so good about it?

Oh, I don't know.

It seems like a kind of morning
where everything's good,

that's all.
- Well, maybe for you.

I had a miserable night.

I told you, I can't
sleep with the lights on.

Mark, come on.

If you weren't asleep
last night, somebody snuck

into your room at a buzz saw.

Here.
- What's this?

It's the names and numbers
of all the people we have

to call about the gathering.

What people?

What gathering?

The people who are going
to contribute to the Tim

Charles, Jr. Scholarship Fund.

Jonathan, that is a
group numbering zero.

I mean, nobody
wants to contribute.

I wouldn't be so sure.

And start with Gary.

Give him a call,
and tell him we're

all going to get together
at the hangar at 3

o'clock this afternoon.

I have already talked to
Gary, just like all the others.

None of them remember.

[knocking]

Oh, hi, Miss Foley.

Hello, Mr. Gordon.

I'm looking for--
oh, there he is.

Uh, Mr. Smith, I--

I remember that boy after all.

No, I don't understand.

You come into my
office and you tell me

you want me to give $10,000
to this scholarship fund

because you had some
kind of a nightmare.

That's right.

I do.

Son, you've been
having nightmares

ever since you got back.

But this was different.

It started out like it
was going to be the same.

I was hit.

My squad leader kept
saying that the choppers

couldn't get to us.

And just like all
the other times,

I felt someone holding me.

I was delirious.

I don't even remember
being in the chopper.

And there was always this face.

And I could never make it out.

Except last night, I saw him.

It was this kid that I
went to high school with.

I know it was him.

I never knew that before,
but I know it now.

He was the one who
took me out of there.

It was Tim.

It was Tim Charles, Dad.

[footsteps approaching]

I figured I might
find you here.

Oh, sorry, Jonathan.

I-- I must have been
daydreaming or something.

I feel so tired today, kind
of fogged in, you know?

Look, you still have a lot of
Tim's stuff over in the hangar.

You want me to give you
a hand getting it home?

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, thanks.

I-- I could use some help.

Thank you.

[door squeaks open]

[clapping]

Wh-- what's going on here?

They remember
Tim, all of them.

Go on.

[clapping continues]

I-- I don't quite
know what to say.

All-- these last few days I--

I decided the world didn't
give a damn whether my son

Tim was ever here or not.

But I can see today that
I was wrong, very wrong.

I want to apologize for all
the things I felt about you,

but-- but try to understand
that Tim was my son.

And, uh--

We're the ones that
ought to apologize.

We're the ones that turned our
backs, not only on your son,

but on the sons of so many.

Tim-- Tim, your boy
saved my son's life.

He fought for us.

He didn't have to.

He felt it was his duty.

He made me remember what
a precious thing a child is.

He was filled with love.

Let's make sure that that
kind of love isn't forgotten.

Let's make this scholarship
fund in his name a way

to keep his memory alive.

[applause]

I can't believe it.

Got to see the
size of this fund.

It's unbelievable.

Tim, you all right?

Oh, yeah, I'm--

I'm just a little tired.

I sure wish my son could
have seen this today.

I'm sure he did.

Yeah.

You want me to drive you home?

You ought to get some rest.

No, I'm all right.

I want to go out to the plane
just for a little while.

Want me to wait for you?

No, that's OK.

Thanks for everything.

Jonathan, is he all right?

He will be.

[wind blowing]

[engine sputtering]

[engine sputtering]

Jonathan.

How you doing, Tim?

What-- what's going on?

Am I dreaming?

No, you're not dreaming.

I must be.

I mean, because this
old plane doesn't work.

There are no propellers.

There's-- what is this?

Your last mission.

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about
touching the face of God.

You mean that I--

Yeah.

Then there is something.

There is.

You bet there is.

Come on.

Let's go.

Well, check.

Maggie's Pride to tower,
requesting clearance

to take off on runway--

Tim, you already
got clearance.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, I-- I see what you mean.

Yeah, this-- this
is great, Jonathan.

This old plane never
handled like this.

I mean, this all crate--

Oh, yeah.

I guess I got to go the
rest of the way all alone.

TIMMY: What are you
talking about alone?

Timmy.

We're going home now, Pop.

Going home.

[music playing]

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