Original subtitles

My name is Tom Warshaw.

I'm an American artist living in Paris.

I've lived here for 30 years

with a secret that nobody knows.

My son, Odell, is turning 13 today.

And for his birthday, I'm gonna tell him my secret.

I'm gonna tell him, "You know how in old movies

when the bad guys want to break into a safe?

There's this one guy, the safecracker,

who puts his ear up to the lock

and listens as he dials the combination,

listening for what they call in English, the tumblers.

Because when the number is right, there's a click,

and he knows with the click, he's breaking in.

Well, in a man's life, there's a tumbler too.

And I think that number is 13,

when there's a click and a boy breaks into manhood.

And the safe of his life opens up and Shazam,

there are all the riches of what a man can hope for and hope to be."

What I want to say to my son is,

the opposite thing happened for me when I turned 13.

Instead of opening, the safe locked shut on me.

Because of certain things that happened,

I couldn't hear the tumblers anymore.

Now that he's turning 13, I'm hearing the tumblers again.

Maybe it's like we're becoming men together.

Once upon a time there was a Frenchman who was not French.

No, I'm not drunk. I'm just talkative.

Sorry to wake you. I'm just trying to have a discussion with my wife.

I was born in Greenwich Village, New York City, New York,

the United States of America.

My story starts where every man's story starts.

With Mom.

Sorry I'm late.

I made supper for us.

It's cold. I'll heat it up.

No. It's okay. It looks good.

My father had died a year earlier of cancer.

My mom was a nurse.

She was convinced that all such disease could be prevented

by mammoth intakes of leafy, green vegetables.

Specifically, she believed in the magic of the brussels sprout.

Are you gonna finish your brussels sprouts?

I don't know, Mom. I just started.

- If you want, I'll heat them up. - No.

Fine.

She was lost without my father.

But sometimes I could find her.

Oh, Mom, now that's what I call a brussels sprout.

Oh! Just melts in your mouth.

I don't know what Brussels was thinking letting go of these.

And sometimes she didn't want to be found.

Eighteen.

Twenty take away two equals eighteen.

Okay, Mom.

How was school?

Fine.

How was work?

Fine.

- Want me to wash your hair? - No, thanks.

Save me some hot water, will you?

Sometimes she cried herself to sleep.

Sometimes she just cried.

On those nights, the only way to reach her was through

her hatred of our president, Richard Milhous Nixon,

whose nickname, Tricky Dick...

It's Tricky Dick.

I am not a crook.

...inspired me to come up with

novel uses for my socks and shirts.

Watergate, schmatergate. That's all I have to say.

My fellow Americans,

I am not a crook.

My best friend's name was Pappass.

He was what you used to call "retarded."

We had a delivery boy job together.

If you wanted wet toilet paper delivered

to the back of your head, we were your guys.

If I wanna exercise my God-given freedom

to experience people getting cut up by chainsaws

and hung on meat hooks,

I think I have the constitutional right to do so, don't you?

- We're gonna go to jail, Tommy. - Pappass.

We're not gonna go to jail.

- No? - They don't throw retards in jail.

Just stay cool and give me the dad-face.

Okay?

- Everything will be okay. - Yeah.

Two for the Texas Chainsaw Massa-cree, please.

Two for the Texas Chainsaw Massa-cree, please.

It's R, small-fry.

No one under 16 without parent or guardian.

Oh, that's my parent or guardian right there.

Enjoy the cinema.

Thank you.

Thanks!

Greenwich Village Chainsaw Massa-cree!

- Time for school. - Yeah!

Who wrote Yellow Mattress?

I.P. Nightly.

Uh, Yellow River?

I.P. Daily.

Um, French Rupture?

Oh, oh, Jacques Tootight.

Russian Rupture?

Ivanna Kutcharakov.

Oh, don't do that!

Sorry we're late, Simone.

Sorry about that.

What do I care if you watch movies after school?

I'm not your mother.

How did you know we were at the movies?

How do I know?

And the retarded one still has an erection.

I love scary movies.

Psyche. It's like a Blimpie.

Slava bogu, it's like a Bratwurst.

You could sell it by the pound.

Come here. You're a good boy.

Tommy, too. Tommy wants to say his prayers.

Ah, Simone. My first boss.

Well, at least part of Simone, anyway.

I think this is where my love of French began.

People love delivery boys.

And dogs loved the bike.

- Hut! - Maybe we were beloved

because we took ourjob so seriously.

It's Mick Jagger.

We even offered a service we called "tenderizing the meat."

Our number one concern, of course,

was to deliver the meat on time.

Get back here!

Slow motion!

- Delivery, Mrs. Brevoort. - Jack?

- Is that you, son? - No, Mrs. Brevoort.

It's Tommy and Pappass from Simone's.

We have your meat.

Oh, boys. Hello.

- Hello. - Hello.

How much?

Um, five pounds. 69 cents a pound.

Three, four, five. Three, four, five.

- Three dollars and... - 45 cents for the ground chuck.

But at this price, Mrs. B.,

we like to refer to him as "ground Charles."

"Ground Charles." Oh, you're a clever boy.

And you've grown so. How old are you now?

- Thirteen. - Twelve, liar.

Thirteen in a couple weeks, Papp-ass.

I'm 41.

Don't be in such a hurry to get old. It's no fun.

And here's a dollar for you.

Actually, Mrs. Brevoort, that's a ten.

Here's a one.

A dollar for a kiss from Thomas.

And a dollar for a kiss from Papp-ass.

Papp-ass.

Thank you, Mrs. Brevoort.

Good boy.

You boys need a tip?

Please.

Okay, come on now.

We buried some of our delivery tips

outside the Women's House of D.,

a prison for women on 10th Street and 6th Avenue,

so Pappass's dad didn't take all of our money.

I guess we figured it was a safe place

because the women were already locked up.

Sometimes we just came for the conversation

between the ladies and their admirers down below.

You gotta bail me outta here, daddy. C'mon, I'm scared.

I don't know about that, mama.

Look like you're gonna have to spend the night.

I don't have the money at hand. This here is for skin.

- You got to get me out of here! - I don't wanna argue with you.

- Don't walk away from me! - I'm through!

I see your hat down there!

Eight, fifteen.

We did good today, horn-dog.

About 40 bucks to go

and the beautiful, green lady will be ours.

You got any more dimes in there?

No, I'm doing quarters.

Don't be such a specialist.

Branch out into dimes, Pappass. You might like it.

The beautiful, green lady.

Park and lock, Thomas.

Okay, good.

Go ahead.

Oh, yeah.

People are getting cheap with the tips

or you boys went to the movies.

Hey, haven't you heard?

Nixon says we're in a recession.

Inflation, oil embargo, Yankees in the cellar...

Horace Clark's at second base.

Garbage strike, transit strike, fiscal crisis.

- All right. - Suburban flight,

- soft rock, art rock, - All right.

- All right, already! - Emerson, Lake and Palmer.

These are signs of the apocalypse, I'm telling you.

You know why your mother died, son?

She killed herself because she had a retarded son.

- Isn't that right? - She got hit by a car.

She walked in front of a car because she had a retarded son.

She was drunk.

She was drunk because her son's retarded.

She was drunk 'cause she was married to you, you loser.

Up yours.

Up yours, too.

Up yours too, sir.

"Up yours too, sir" and good night.

Bye-bye.

Not until you can pass the driver's test.

When you can drive, then you can drink.

- Yo. - Yo, who?

Yo mama!

Fat ass! Go! Come on!

Our French teacher, Madame Chiakipet.

Monsieur Warshaw?

Oui.

Um, I don't think so.

Use "le bonheur" in a sentence s'il vous plait.

Our soul mission in life was to make her say

dirty words without knowing what she was saying.

You have magnificent bonheur?

- No, no, no. - Oui, oui, oui.

Sometimes we could get her to say some pretty cool things.

- Le bonheur, uh...

Good time, no? Le bonheur is happiness.

- Yeah. - Oh, yeah, but...

I'm sorry. If I may correct you.

In English, we say "hap-penis."

"Hap-penis"?

Hap-penis.

- Hap-"penis". - Penis.

- "Penis"? - Penis.

- "Penis." - Penis!

Bon. Okay. I have the "penis."

Okay.

Please, Monsieur Warshaw.

You are my best student.

Please focus.

What?

- Focus. - Fuck what?

- Focus! - Us?

Foc-us! Foc-us!

Come on, come on!

Will you just focus and give me the bonheur?

Strike one!

That was a ball!

Caught the corner!

Talk to the chalk.

Go again! Play ball!

Ball!

Strike two!

Oh, bean ball! Rule 6.08B!

"A batter is hit by a ball he is not attempting to hit.

Take your base."

St. George leads St. Andrews 19-18. Play ball!

Time-out.

Time-out. Time-out.

Time-out. We're gonna get a pinch-hitter.

- Pappass, get in there. - What?

Pappass is on our team. He's gonna pinch-hit.

He's too old.

- Yeah. - He goes to our school.

Pappass, show him your I.D.

All right.

St. Andrews School.

That's only because you're retarded.

Don't use that word, Spaz.

Well, he is, Melissa.

Doesn't make it right.

All right. Let him hit.

One more strike and we win anyway.

I'll just throw the cheese right by him.

Come on, Pappass! Let's go!

Come on, Mark! Strike out the retard!

No bagel, baby! Look at the 'tard!

Mark, you can beat the retard!

You're standing on the plate.

- Easy out! - The plate!

You knucklehead. You're right in front of it.

Strike him out!

Retard!

Mickey Mantle, Pappass. Mickey Mantle.

Yeah!

Oh, no!

Run for it!

Get your balls out of my window, you little creeps!

Maybe you guys should get your own retard!

- Two in a row! - No!

How come you go to an all-boys school? That's for losers, man.

We like girls. We like the girls at your school.

How about Melissa Loggia?

I saw you checkin' her out today, Tommy.

Tommy don't like girls.

Tommy don't like girls. He likes his own hand.

- Come on, Tommy. We all know you like her. - Ah, she's flat.

Pirate's dream... sunken chest.

Carpentry... flat as a board and easy to screw.

I've seen bigger lumps in oatmeal.

Tommy don't like girls.

30, 31, 32, 33...

Good night, Ma.

Under the bed, I felt safe 'cause I knew she was safe.

As long as I could hear her breathing, I could breathe.

And I could draw.

Because of some bureaucratic shenanigans

and some nonsense in the U.S. Constitution

called the separation of Church and State

this class will no longer be called Bible Study.

It will be called Ethics.

Well, that's my civic duty done. Now open your Bibles, boys, to Genesis 19:4...

Lot and his salty spouse.

"And there came two angels to Sodom that evening..." blah, blah, blah...

"All the men of Sodom surrounded Lot's house and demanded,

"'Where are the men who came to you tonight?

Bring them out to us so that we can have sex with them."'

Now don't get too excited, boys. The story goes straight downhill from here.

And now pitching

for the Yankees,

Mel-l-I

Stottlemyre.

The vegetation that grew from the ground.

Question...

What was left after

Lot's house was razed?

Answer?

Lot's lot.

Anyhoo...

"But Lot's wife looked back longingly and was turned into a pillar of salt."

Why?

Was God's soup too bland?

No. What does salt do?

It preserves things.

It keeps things from changing.

Salt holds on. She looked back "longingly."

Well, surely it means that we should not be attached to possessions

and the things of this world, no?

Lot's wife looked back because she missed her stuff.

And for that immature longing,

she was made into a thing of bitterness...

a pillar of salt.

Ice cream. "Pumping"pies.

- What kind of pies? - Pumpkin.

In your store, you feature 109 different ice-cream flavors.

Small balls.

How would you like it if we said you had small balls?

- What? - Small balls.

You said Melissa was flat. Small balls?

Small balls, small balls, small balls with a basketball.

Small balls! Small balls!

Small balls!

You gonna eat that brussels sprout orjust hypnotize it?

I don't know, Mom.

- Are you all right? - Yeah.

- You sure? - I'm fine.

How was school today?

- Fine. - Fine?

Yeah.

My monosyllabic son.

You never talk to me anymore. How come you don't talk to me?

- I talk to you, Mom. - You don't, you know.

Mom, l... We're talking now, aren't we?

Don't be funny.

I feel like a leper around you.

Mom...

Listen, I really can't go back to that school anymore.

St. Andrew's? What are you talking about?

We have to move.

I did something bad. I said something,

and they hate me there.

And the girls really, really don't like me.

What are you doing with girls?

That's not the point, Mom. The point is, is that we have to find another school.

Don't tell me what the point is, Tommy.

Your scholarship is the point and getting into a good college is the point.

Girls are beside the point.

Jesus, Tommy, what are you trying to do to me?

I'm not trying to do anything to you, Mom. Forget it, okay?

You tell me you're gonna piss away your scholarship because of girls?

I'm not gonna forget it.

What am I working for? Slaving away for you every day?

- Forget this! - Tommy! Where you going?

- Out! - Out where?

Out, out.

Go on. Run away just like your father.

He didn't run away, Mom. He died.

A lot of times when I was pissed off or upset,

I used to go to the House of D. To count my money.

Why you checkin' out new girls when you can't even take care of the ones you got, Andrew?

What happened, baby? Talk to me now.

I think maybe the money was the only thing that made me feel powerful, gave me hope.

I could change my life with it.

Hey, kid! Hey, you...

you with all the money!

What's with all the change? You rob a bus?

Why don't you run over to Washington Square Park and scope me a dime bag of weed?

No way!

- Oh, I get it. You a mama's boy. - No, I'm not!

Don't worry. I can't get down there and steal that little money.

Hey, I hear it's crazy in there.

My mom says you got rats,

roaches, lesbianism...

Well, I guess I'm safe from the last one. I'm in solitary.

Why you buryin' money for anyway? What are you, nine, eight, ten? What?

Thirteen... almost.

Thirteen, almost. Girls.

How'd you know?

I'm a genius. That's why I'm up here! Now tell me...

- Tell you what? - About the girls.

No way. I don't even know you.

Well, I ain't going anywhere. Who am I gonna tell? My pillow?

Come on. You dyin' to tell somebody. It might as well be me.

You got a crush on some girl.

I don't.

Just tell me.

Her name's Melissa, and, oh, man,

she's so fine.

But I told some of the guys that she was flat.

Flat.

How you doin'? Yeah, you know...

Oh, you were showin' off. That's all right. Everybody shows off sometime.

Yeah, exactly. But I didn't mean it to be mean or anything like that.

And she heard about it, and like all of her girlfriends came to my school

and started kicking at me and screaming and saying I had small balls.

It's not funny.

No, it's not.

It's my uncle we're talking about. Small, bald man, short, no hair.

I mean, personally, I like small balls.

- You do? - Yeah!

The other ones just get in the way.

Bangin' around in areas they have no business in.

So, even if you do have small balls, good for you!

Hi. Good for me?

Yeah. And those girls don't hate you. What's your name?

Tommy.

Those girls like you, Tommy. That's why they bitchin' you out.

That doesn't make any sense.

Yes, it does. Who's your best friend?

Pappass.

What kind of name is that?

He's retarded, and Greek on his father's side, I think.

Well, don't you give this Pappass more shit than anybody in the world?

Yeah. I always call him "Papp-ass."

That's cause you two are so tight!

I guess.

And that's how girls your age are.

If they really like you, they treat you real bad.

The more it seems they hate you, the more they really like you.

So I bet you this flat-chested girl... What's her name?

Melissa.

I say this Melissa likes you most of all.

Now please come on and give me that weed.

I want to teach you something about meat.

Let me try.

Oh, that's so cool.

You keep it. You need to study.

You sure?

For your 13th birthday.

I got more. Don't worry.

Thanks. I can make one of these.

Delivery.

Hey, Tommy, do you ever miss your dad?

All the time.

- You want mine? - No, thanks, Pappass.

This is the longest delivery in the history of meat!

Engaging Apollo retro rockets, Pappass, please!

- Go! - Going!

Good girl, Daphne.

And the pitch.

Lazy fly ball, right center field...

down near the bullpen here at Fenway.

And it's caught right out there...

Hello.

Delivery!

Wow.

Look at all this great art.

Oh. It's like a museum.

Not that you've ever been to one.

Look at the grapefruit. I love grapefruit.

Those aren't grapefruit, Papp-ass. Those are lemons.

It's a beautiful lemon. I've never seen one this large.

Oh, there you are. Sorry. I was on the phone.

Sweetheart, honey, have you seen my purse?

Sorry.

Oh, great, thank you.

Thanks, sweetie.

Hi.

Hi.

Pirate's dream.

Shut up. How you doing?

I'm good, I guess. How you doing?

Um, working. I deliver meat and stuff.

Yeah, I know. That's why we ordered from your place.

Really?

Really?

Really?

Wow. What a view.

- I'd really like to paint this sometime. - Coming through.

- Can I have yours? - Sure.

Thanks.

Hey, I'm really sorry about the, uh...

you know, the flat incident.

- Carpenter's dream. - Pappass.

Don't worry about it. I am flat.

No shit, Sherlock.

No, you're not at all.

You know, when you turn sideways,

like, you have a very, um...

like a very, very nice... profile.

No tittie at all. I've seen lemons bigger.

Pappass!

It's okay. I really don't care.

Yeah, well, like,

me, neither.

I have small balls, you know?

But that's good, right?

I don't know.

I have a huge penis.

- You gonna go to the dance on Sunday? - No way, Jose.

- Can I finish your soda? - Yeah.

- Thanks. - Have as many as you want.

What dance?

Our school's hosting a dance at your school.

Hey, Tommy, you see she has a fridge just for sodas.

Are you gonna go to the dance?

I'm only on the decorations committee.

What?

Ow!

Sorry. Thought you had something there.

Yeah, he's the peach fuzz kid.

I shaved my ass once.

Bald as a cue ball.

What is this?

What are you doing?

Mom, I'm in the shower.

- Is that my razor? - No. Yeah.

- Are you shaving? - Yeah.

You don't need to shave.

Yeah, I do.

Well, then get your own damn razor.

I found this in your pants.

Oh, they're not mine.

Whose are they?

They're a present.

- From who? - A friend.

What kind of a friend gives a boy pornography?

I'm not a boy, Mom.

Oh, no. What are you then, a girl?

I'm flushing this filth down the toilet,

where it belongs.

If you want it, you can swim after it.

Oh, shit, the littlest pimp.

Youngblood taking care of his lady.

Good man. Good little man.

All right. All right.

I ain't got to worry about no competition, do I?

- No, sir. - Good. Catch you later.

Tommy, you got my weed?

No. Sorry.

You don't love me, man.

Hey, there's a dance this Sunday.

Oh, Melissa, right. You gonna go?

I don't have any clothes.

Why don't you take some of that money you ain't spending

on my dime bag and get you some pimp threads?

I don't dance.

That's too bad. Girls like boys who dance.

Even if you can't dance good.

A girl like a guy who tries.

And girls like guys who play the fool for 'em.

Solid. According to you, lady,

girls like fools and small balls.

So I'm pretty much covered.

I know. Have yourself a dance strategy.

You wait out the fast stuff.

All right? And if you can walk, you can slow dance.

Show me.

No, not out here in public.

I don't see no public.

Come on. There's no music.

Imagine some music.

You see that pole over there?

That pole?

Yes, that pole.

Look at the pole. Walk toward the pole.

You want this pole.

No. No.

Don't start your hands down at the ass.

Work your way down.

Hi, I'm Tommy.

You're very tall.

She just said she was "pole-ish."

That's cute.

Now you put your arms out around the pole.

Oh, you look like

Frankenstein or something.

You gonna scare the girl. Loosen up.

There you go.

Crossroads seem to come and go

The gypsy flies from coast to coast

Knowing many

Loving none

Bearing sorrows, having fun

But back home he'll always run

To sweet Melissa

Yeah

Melissa

Yeah! Now I know why you look so familiar.

I must have seen you on Soul Train.

Again the morning comes

Again he's on the run

Sunbeams shining through his hair

He doesn't have a care

He picks up the gear and gypsy roll on

Roll on

Crossroads

Will you ever let him go?

Here you go, dear.

Thank you.

Holy hands of time, Batman. I'm late.

Where are you going? We got a best of seven going on here.

- Simone's. - On a Sunday evening?

She stays open all the time when the weather's good.

She's got gall. Gaul.

France. Gaul. Get it?

- I'm punning bilingually. - That's a good one, Mom.

You think you got all your smarts from your old man, but your mama's no dummy.

- You gonna be late? - I think so.

Give us a good-night kiss then.

She cannot be stopped! She can't!

You cannot stop me.

Sabbath!

Sabbath!

Sabbath!

Sabbath!

Sabbath!

You're gonna regret this.

Come on, Reverend Duncan.

You'd better leave room for Jesus there, Miss Johnson.

What's up, Pappass?

Hi, Pappass. Have you seen Tommy?

Tommy don't dance.

Sabbath!

Sabbath!

Oh, I hate this stuff. It's too slow.

I'm outta here. Southern rock blows.

Where's the funk?

How are you?

I'm not sure I can talk and dance at the same time.

Decorations are great.

Thanks.

Your outfit is, um, orange.

- Orange. - Very orange.

And soft.

This bike smells weird.

What do you mean?

It smells like pee.

I don't smell anything.

This is where I work.

Cool.

Yeah, my boss would kill me if she knew I was here.

This is a little public.

Come on. I know a private place.

Yeah.

This is private.

But are these what I think they are?

It's a meat locker.

And this is a dead sheep.

That's so gross.

It's okay. I'll protect you.

What are you thinking?

About becoming a vegetarian.

You cold?

No.

I think it's late.

I'll take you home.

I had a decent time.

Me, too.

I really liked kissing you.

You lied to me.

You lied to me!

- No, I didn't. - Yes, you did. You didn't go to work.

You went to the dance dressed like a clown.

- You don't do that! - I'm sorry.

Don't do that.

I'm sorry.

Don't. Please.

- Don't lie to me ever again. - I won't.

If you make a wish and don't tell nobody, it could come true.

Kissinger, Nixon and Agnew, and I only got two bullets, right?

Hey, Tommy.

Hear about what happened to Pappass?

No, I was late this morning.

He got caught stealing a bike, and he got fired.

I hear his dad's gonna send him away to Willowbrook.

I haven't seen Pappass today.

He's probably scared to come in.

What the hell I care if he steal a bike?

He still has a job here.

You Americans with your morality.

Pappass is a child.

This Puritanism drives me insane.

This is your uptown delivery.

Oh, boy.

Hey, lady, lady!

Lady!

Tommy, that you?

My little man. How was the dance?

The dance was great. It's Pappass.

He stole this bike, and he just keeps disappearing.

I went to try and find him, and he's not coming home.

- What bike did he steal? - It's this bike that we were saving up for.

After the dance, I took Melissa to the meat locker, so we could be alone.

- You left the Papoose. - Yeah, 'cause he had work to do.

I've been trying to catch him, and he won't go home.

- And he's gonna lose his job. - It's your fault!

What?

That's your buddy. He stole that bike for you.

He knows you're going someplace he can't go.

I'm not going anywhere. Where am I going?

Not where you're going, but what you're becoming.

- What am I becoming? - Something he can't.

A man.

That's bullshit.

I'm not gonna take the blame for something that Pappass did.

No, Tommy, it's not bullshit. That's love.

That's love.

Tommy!

Pappass!

Nobody can catch us now.

Pappass, why'd you steal it?

'Cause I'm a bad man, Tommy.

Did you steal it for me?

- You wish. - You know what? Let me...

- You don't think I know, but I do. - Calm down.

I know what I know, and I know what I don't know.

I know.

Calm down.

They took away my job, Tommy.

So you mean to say it was you

and not Mr. Pappass that stole the bike.

Yes.

Well, that's not in character.

That's not the Tom Warshaw I know.

Why did you steal, son?

I wanted it.

Even though I know not to covet material things,

like Lot's wife.

It's a beautiful damn bike, though.

What would you call that green?

Sorry, sir.

The green of the bicycle.

Al green.

Al green.

It's a lovely Al green.

Oh, yes.

Thanks for coming forward, Tom.

You're suspended for a week.

And of course, your scholarship will come under review.

You can finish up your classes today

and get the rest of the assignments for the week

so you don't fall behind.

Your mother will be very disappointed.

Yes, sir.

Les enfants,

this is a popped test.

Please focus.

Mr. Warshaw, could I have a moment of your time, please?

- You stay right here, Mr. Pappass. - Yes, sir.

We're on the horns of a dilemma here, Mr. Warshaw.

When I met with Mr. Pappass to reinstate him

in his custodial capacity,

I told him that you had come forward about the bicycle theft

and were willing to accept an appropriate punishment.

He got very agitated and told me once again he stole the bike.

Only now he's telling me that he stole the bicycle for you.

Pappass.

Don't talk to Mr. Pappass. Talk to me.

Who is responsible?

I am. I stole the bike for Tommy.

Shut up, Pappass.

I threw a lemon, huge beautiful lemon.

As if he were in your employ, Tommy.

A minion and you a ringleader, he stole the bike for you?

That's right.

I was supposed to be normal, but I didn't get enough oxygen when I was born.

Will you be quiet, Mr. Pappass?

Theft is one thing, Tommy.

A momentary lapse in judgment, covetousness, ultimately forgivable.

There's no oxygen right now, either.

But this psychological usury, this web of deceit,

this Machiavellian domination of a weak-minded,

pitiful man goes beyond one isolated act

and speaks to a fundamental and frankly disturbing deficit in character.

Do you have anything to say for yourself, Mr. Warshaw?

Pappass stole the bike for me.

I'm profoundly disappointed in you.

Profoundly. You go home right now.

The school will contact your mother

with further disciplinary action.

Oh, man, you took three already.

Three. 18 take away 15 equals 3.

I took some sedative.

And I want to go to "bedative."

Mom.

Oh, Tommy, Tommy,

they want to take away your scholarship.

You're gonna end up in the gutter. You know that?

They want to expel you.

I'm not gonna wind up in the gutter, Mom.

Without an education, you're gonna end up in the gutter.

- I'm not gonna end up in the gutter. - Yes, you are!

- Don't worry. No, no. - You know why you're not?

Because we're gonna fight 'em,

- and we're gonna beat 'em. - Exactly.

- They're not even fit to lick our boots. - We'll fight 'em.

And we'll win, Tom-ass.

- Mom? - What? That's what Pappass calls you, right?

Sometimes, Mom-ass.

Very clever.

Go on now.

Quit hovering over me like a mother hen.

You're gonna... You're gonna smother me.

Mom!

Mom, wake up.

Mom, wake up!

Operator, my mom! It's my mom!

Hey, Mom, what day is it today?

I thought so.

Mom, look. It's the 20th.

It's the 20th. Mom.

I'm 13 today.

What is it? Tommy?

Yes, ma'am, there's a Tommy here who wants to see Melissa.

I understand. Yeah.

No, I understand completely Mrs. Logan, really. Okay.

Sorry, kid, you can't go up.

- Why not? - I don't know.

Can you ask if Melissa can come down?

No, I can't do that, kid. Come on, take off.

Why not?

Now, hey, I'm sorry. Listen.

Life is long, you know? Live it up.

How old are you anyway? Maybe 15?

13.

13?

Ah, you'll forget her in a week. Take off.

Who the hell are you?

Tommy, hi.

You don't remember me?

I'm Monty Bean.

And this is my wife, Sandra Head-Bean.

Hi, Tommy.

I'm your mom's second cousin.

Now, we've come down from Toronto to take care of you...

till things settle down.

And we so love New York.

What does "settle down" mean?

Arrangements have to be made,

e.g., the subject of the guardian.

You're a minor.

Your mom's not comin' back.

I thought you had this conversation with the doctor.

I did.

- You didn't understand, then. - I understood.

She took too many sedatives by mistake, so she has brain death.

She is, "persistently vegetative."

And I'll take care of my mom,

not you, or you... me.

Well,

regardless,

we, Sandra and me,

will be looking after you

until it's decided where you can be.

Have you given a thought to military school?

Goddamn it, Pappass.

Lady!

Tommy! Got my dime bag?

What's your name?

I like you calling me "Lady."

I want to know your real name.

Why?

Because I want to know who to blame for ruining my life!

I want to know your real name!

Well, what happened?

Nothing. I just did what you said and the shit hit the fan.

I got expelled, Melissa won't see me

and my mom... my mom O.D.'d because of me!

Your mom what, Tommy?

She took pills because I got expelled.

She's in a coma.

- Well, what about your daddy? - My dad's dead!

And there's this stupid...

Those military people in my home!

And I don't know what to do.

They're...

Lady, there are people I don't know at my house!

Man!

Man, life is hard.

But you a lucky man!

Be free!

What?

- Run! - Where?

Where am I gonna go?

Anywhere!

You a man!

You free! Go!

I want to wait for you.

Lady, I want to see you.

I want to see you!

Boy, you will never see me!

Why?

- You know why I'm in here, boy? - No.

I murdered my husband

in his sleep with my bare hands.

I'm a murderer!

I hate men!

And if they let me out this bitch, I'll kill again!

I mean, if you get in my way, I might even kill you!

I don't care.

Look, I'm not playing with you no more, Tommy.

Run!

Get out of here! Get away from me!

And stop looking up at me like that! I ain't your lady!

I ain't your mama! I can't help you!

I ain't got nothin' for you!

- You wanna know my name, little boy? - Yeah!

My name is Bernadette Odelia Glasser!

And I never want to see you again, Tommy!

Get away from me. Run!

What's that? Who's there?

Jack, is that you?

Oh, Jack, my son.

My beautiful boy.

Why have you stayed away so long?

I, uh...

I was in trouble.

Trouble?

I'm in trouble.

Must you go away again, Jack?

Yeah.

It's not because you don't love me, is it?

I was so afraid you didn't love me.

No.

You love your mama?

Yeah, I love my mama.

Is that my money?

Oh, good.

Take the money.

Good boy. Take the money.

Thank you, Miss...

Mama.

She's not breathing. Get the doctor.

Okay, you've gotta give me the dad-face one last time,

okay, Pappass?

Okay.

Otherwise, keep your mouth shut, okay?

Okay.

How many sleeps will you be away?

How many sleeps till you come back here?

Not too long, Pappass.

Hey, who wrote French Rupture?

I don't know.

- All right. - To Paris.

You're quite young to be paying for your own plane ticket, aren't you?

Oh, this is my dad.

You know, actually, Dad has laryngitis

and he shouldn't be talking at all.

It's not good for his throat.

I'm sorry, sir.

I'm gonna need to see some identification.

Some identification?

Dad, show him your I.D. Dad!

You know, your I.D., Dad?

I can't talk.

Right.

Look, I'm just gonna make a phone call.

What the Sam Hill is going on here?

- Sir? - I'm not gonna be late to work because of you!

I'm sorry, sir, I'm just doing my job.

Me, too.

See this uniform?

St. Andrews School for boys.

Assistantjanitor.

I don't think you're gonna be very happy

if I have to call the Reverend Duncan down here to talk to you.

Who?

Reverend Duncan.

Look, um, I'm a Christian, too.

Good! Now, give the kid his ticket!

Okay, all right. Just, um...

Just give me a minute.

You retard!

I don't want you to take any shit off your dad, okay?

- Okay. - And, um, listen.

Stop drinking so much soda 'cause you're gonna get fat.

Yeah.

And...

if you have a problem at school, you can talk to Duncan.

'Cause he's not a total jackass.

And listen, if Simone...

Do good things, Tommy.

Promise me...

you do good things.

I promise.

Thomas.

I told my wife everything that night.

How, when I came to Paris,

I slept on the streets for a while until I got a job

drawing for the fashion magazines and could support myself...

that I pretty much erased my past

and kept to myself

until I met her

and wanted to start my own family.

I was in the habit of never telling anybody anything about my past.

But when I was falling in love with you,

every morning I'd wake up and think,

"Today's the day I'm gonna tell her,"

and every morning I'd say nothing.

Eventually, just too much time passed and l...

I felt that if I told you now,

you'd get scared and disgusted

that I could lie so well, so long, and you'd leave me.

And you didn't tell me and I did leave you anyway.

Well, that's what we in America like to call irony.

I talked all night,

probably more than I'd talked to her in a year.

And when the sun came up,

it was my turn to listen.

I always knew you have an emptiness in your heart.

And I was a little afraid for Odell and me that maybe you're cold.

Well, that's why I'm telling you this.

So you know me.

These are just words.

You need to start over.

To New York, you go.

I can'tjust start over.

And yet you want us to start over?

You need to go back, Tom. To move ahead.

I'm scared to go back to New York.

A man is a man only when he can be himself wherever he is.

I want this man.

Odell needs this man.

Otherwise, this is just a bedtime story.

I'm not gonna recognize her

from any of these mug shots,

'cause I never really got a good look at her face.

I know she was black. At least her hand was black.

I do know she was in prison for murdering her husband.

No, no, that's not possible.

How do you mean?

Well, the women's house of detention

was not maximum security.

A murderer would never have been held there.

She told me she murdered her husband.

Why would she lie?

To make me run.

To make me run away.

Bernadette?

Bernadette Odelia, my name is Tom Warshaw.

Can I come in?

It's Tommy, Bernadette. I think we may have spoken

many years ago when I was a kid

and you were in the women's house of detention.

Maybe you don't remember.

I just wanted you to know that I'm alive and l...

I made it to Paris. I have a wife and a son.

My son's name is Odell.

Odell for Odelia.

I'm gonna leave a little present out here for ya.

Sorry, it's still not your dime bag.

Tommy!

Lady!

You have a beautiful face.

Tommy, we did what we had to do,

didn't we?

It's all right.

She understands.

Your poor mama.

She understands a boy have to go away before he come back.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

Run, Tommy.

I don't have to run anymore. Lady, I can walk now.

I know you can walk.

And I know you can dance.

But I'm saying,

this is a bad neighborhood for a Ione white boy.

Now, run.

Run! Run!

Run, Tommy!

Hey.

Sweet wheels.

Check it out.

- You live in the neighborhood? - Yeah. Born and raised.

Maybe you can help me then.

I've been trying to figure something out.

I've forgotten who wrote this famous book I once read.

Uh, French Rupture.

Remember who wrote that?

Is that Ivanna Kutcharakov?

No. Ivanna Kutcharakov wrote Russian Rupture.

Obviously, I. Kutchyarokov's a Russian name.

Oh, all right.

French Rupture was written by Jacques Tootight.

Oh, that's a French name.

- Obviously. - That makes sense.

Sweet ride. That's beautiful.

What about Chinese Rupture, you remember who wrote that?

One Hung Lo.

- That's a Chinese name. - Yeah.

- Makes sense. - Yeah.

What about Open Kimono? You remember that?

Open Kimono? Who wrote that?

Do I look like a library to you?

No, I was just...

Get out of here.

I was just trying to...

Come on, buddy. Get a life.

Tommy!

Psyche.

I saved your Bible.

All the little floating balls, I saved them.

I call it your baseball bible.

I saved it for you.

You drew that.

- You forgive me, Pappass? - Yeah.

For what?

- Look at you, Tom-ass. - What?

Look at you.

Look at me what, Papp-ass?

You have the dad-face now.

My dad died... a lot of sleeps ago.

Cancer ate him, just like your dad.

Cancer is the crab on the horoscope.

Crab dinner, $6.95, all you can eat.

Sorry, Pappass.

It's okay, 'cause the crab ate all the hard parts first,

the mean parts.

The parts that hate me being retarded.

Just before he died when he was only mostly dead,

he was so nice.

'Cause only the soft parts were left.

He was the nicest guy in the world.

He hugged me, and he told me over and over,

he loved me, he loved me, he loved me.

Pappass.

I hate seafood.

You know, Tommy, sometimes I think the crab ate me

while I was still in my mom's belly.

I think it ate all my smart parts.

Do you think that's what happened, Tommy?

- No. - No?

I think you got plenty of smart parts, Pappass.

Yeah.

Chinese takeout, ESPN, some nice cold orange soda.

I could get used to a koosh joint like this.

That's more numbers than I've ever dialed.

Who are you calling, a girl?

Tommy's got a girlfriend!

Not a girl, Pappass, it's a lady.

A lady.

Ooh, a lady

Lady!

Loser.

A lady.

Hey. This is your American phone pal.

Hey, Dad!

Hello?

Remember me?

- Hold on, partner. - Hey!

Hey!

Where's Odell? Why didn't you bring him?

I much like the service at this hotel.

- Over here! - There's Odell!

Very funny, Dad.

Pappass! Slow down. I got a passenger!

Where are you taking us?

That's for me to know and you to find out!

Almost there!

Okay.

Well, Pappass, where are we? If that's, uh...

That's Jefferson Market, there. Then...

Women's House of D.

What is it, Daddy?

There used to be a prison here, Odell.

Yes. There used to be a courthouse and a prison.

And now, there's a library

and a beautiful garden.

Places change like people change,

you know, like...

when you start to grow hair, Odell, down...

you know what I'm talking about, right?

Yeah, for example,

I'm not retarded anymore.

- Oh, really? - Really.

When did that happen?

Oh, 1984.

Sometime in the spring.

I went from retard, to mentally handicapped.

And then, in 1987, '88,

I went from handicapped to challenged.

I changed again.

I'm probably changing right now, you know?

Who knows what I'll be next?

See? There's hope for you, Dad.

Oh? There's hope for me?

Your dad loved change more than anyone.

We had a bike riding job together,

and we saved up all that change.

And I took the change, and I threw it in the river.

And I made a wish that there was no change,

but the change made everything change.

And this is the place where we buried our change.

"Boner."

Two days in America and your accent is horrible.

Not "boner." Bonheur.

Bone-er.

- Bonheur. - Boner.

Bonheurl

- Boner. - Boner, yeah.

Yeah, boner.

You talk funny. Where are you from?

They're from Paris.

Happy birthday, Odell.

So, this is how you and Pappass used to ride around?

Uh, sort of.

Not exactly.

Not at all. I was the one doing all the pedaling.