Personal Velocity Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Personal Velocity script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Rebecca Miller movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Personal Velocity. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Personal Velocity Script



Delia Shunt was 34.



She had fine, dirty-blond hair

and a strong, heavy ass...



which looked excellent in blue jeans.



And Delia was tough.



She beat up a guy in a bar once,

just for grabbing her ass.



He hit her back,

and she broke a chair over his head.



Supper. Now.



- Hi.

- Hey.



- He's doing good.

- Good.



Johnny, give me that glove.

Sit down over here, Miss May.



Did you guys wash your hands?



- Yeah, outside on the hose.

- Right.



Excuse me.



I want you guys to have carrots, too,

all right?






Breast? Want a breast?



Yes, please. Thanks.



Yes, please.



Looks good, chef.



May I have some ketchup?



- We don't have any ketchup.

- I saw some.



All right, I'll get your ketchup.



- Need some help with your chicken, May?

- I had practice today.



- How was it?

- It went really well.



Did you fix the bike today?



Not yet.



Hey, Dad, they switched my game

to Thursday. Would you be able to come?






They changed my game to Thursday.

Can you come?



What time?



- It's at  :  .

- I'll be late, all right?



I'll come, but I'll be late.



- I'll save a seat for you.

- Okay.



Wait, let me explain.



Delia's father, Pete Shunt...



was the first hippie in Catskill, New York.



He kept goats

and smoked grass he grew himself.



He even let the Seventh-Day Adventists

onto his property, just to rap with them.



Who the hell are you guys?



Have you heard the good news,

the Gospel of our Lord?






I wonder if we could take a few minutes

and tell you the good news?



Sure, I got all the time in the world.



Do you go to church regularly, sir?



Not in a long time.



We're with

the Seventh-Day Adventists Church.



- Cheers.

- We believe in the Second Coming of Christ.



A lot of other Christian churches

will celebrate the Sabbath on Sunday.



We take Sunday

as the first day of the week...



so that the Sabbath is actually on Saturday.



If you were to come down to our church,

it would be on a Saturday, not on a Sunday.



That's probably why I missed it.



He got so friendly with a couple of them...



that one day

they brought their wives and kids.



The Bible tells us...



They had targeted Pete Shunt

as a sinner worth the hard sell.



So, that's why we're urged

to keep our bodies pure...



Delia was embarrassed to be seen,

because she had recently grown breasts.



No one else in class had them,

and they were huge.



She felt separated from her breasts,

and kind of awed by them.



They were magical objects...



and definitely not

Seventh-Day Adventist material.



...individual nations, man.



- You know, it's all full of crap.

- Okay.



It's all run by corporations.



I agree with you, Pete.

But see, the bottom line is Christ.



If you don't stop smoking

these marijuana cigarettes...



and living an unclean life,

you are going to hell. It's that simple.



Who do you think you are, telling me?

Get off me!



Get the hell out of my house, now!



- We're going.

- Sons of bitches.



Telling me I'm going to hell.



Pete was sad for days after that,

because he had promised himself...



he wasn't going to get so angry anymore.



He used to hit his wife occasionally...



but he hadn't done that in a long time.



Delia's mother left soon after the Adventists.



She was sick of being broke

and wearing head scarves.



She went out,

bought herself some beige separates...



and found a job in an insurance company.



Delia decided to stay with her dad,

because she felt he needed her more.



"Shunt" rhymes with "cunt."



That's not the reason Delia became

the school slut, but it didn't hurt.



Plus, she loved kissing.



By the time she was   

she had lost her virginity.



And she learned to act tough,

like she didn't care what people thought.



It was a great feeling,

once you got past the shame of it.



She learned to love her power.



It was her vocation.



When she came home after school...



she would go over

her conquests of the day...



and it would perk her up.



Delia married Kurt at   

because he asked her.



He asked her

because he couldn't stand the idea...



of any other guy with his hands on Delia.



Her ass, especially.



That beautiful, ripe ass.



Delia could stop traffic with that ass.



So, he married it.



Marriage gave new meaning to sex for Delia.



It was no longer only about power.



They really made love in the beginning.



Once Kurt felt her love for him,

a violence crept into their lovemaking.



A force of rage Delia found exciting at first,

until she felt the bite of his coldness...



and she realized that he despised her.



But, by then it was too late. She loved him.



Oh, God, I'm sorry.



Get in there!



Get away from me!

Both of you in the bathroom!



Claire, May, get in there! And shut up!



Shut up!









open the door.



Open the door, please.



Honey, I love you.



Please, don't.



It's okay. I know you didn't mean it.



It was her kids' pain

that finally broke through her inertia.



Listening to her babies

screaming and pleading...



and being unable to comfort them,

was like being murdered slowly.



After two hours,

it didn't matter that she loved her husband.



It didn't matter that she had no place to go.



She was taking her kids away.



She imagined herself going back to him,

as she had so many times before.



But this time her body wouldn't follow.



I want you to wake up. Pumpkin, come here.






Are you coming or not?



- Hello.

- Come on in.



Someone will look at you in the morning.



Okay. Thanks.



Delia didn't talk about her problems.



She intimidated the other women

with her silence.



She was just being careful.



She didn't want to get soppy.

She didn't want to make any mistakes.



She was leaving.



She felt the women's pain and uncertainty

like a vortex...



pulling her into her own muddled thinking.



- What happened?

- She fell off the shelf.



She looks pretty good now. Okay.



Did you get something to eat?



Go on.



Go on and play.

You want to go play some more?



Let's talk about practical things.



It must be nice doing good    hours a day.



I don't know.



Some days, I don't think

it makes any difference.



Does that get you down, Pam?



We all have problems, Delia.



You ever been in love

with a man who hits you?






Do you have any kids?



I don't.



Then leave me alone.



I'm sick of seeing your face

every fucking day...



smiling like you just took

the greatest shit of your life.



Have you thought about

another place to live when you leave?



I've thought about it.



Your husband came around again,

asking to see the kids.



He'll take them if he sees them.



You can...



stay here as long as you need to.

You know that, right?



Great. I fucking love it here.



Delia lay awake that night

and racked her brain...



for people she knew that had left Catskill.



Finally, deep in the recesses

of her memory...



she remembered that fat Fay McDougherty

had moved upstate.



Fay had been an outcast like Delia,

but in a different category.



Delia had always felt protective of Fay...



even though

she did not particularly like her.



She was going to have to find Fay.






- Fay?

- Yes?



It's Delia Shunt.



I know it must be weird hearing from me.



I got your number from my mom.



She sold your mom some car insurance.



She mentioned that.



I thought maybe...



I'm kind of in a little bit of trouble.



I'm not wanted by the police or anything,

but I need to leave Catskill.



I've got three kids...



and I thought maybe we could...



crash out in your basement or something...



for a couple weeks, just until I get a job

and work some stuff out.



Never mind. Sorry I bothered you.



No. You know,

maybe you can stay in the garage.



- Really?

- I'd have to ask my husband, of course...



but it wouldn't be anything fancy.



If it's got a roof, that's fine.



There's a shower off the garage, too.

Greg put it in last year.






It's nice to hear your voice.



Let's put that in the back.









Is Dad coming?



No, honey.









- Hey.

- How are you?



- It's great to see you.

- You, too.






Sure. Hi. Gosh, they're beautiful.



They're really beautiful.

They look just like you.



I have cookies inside, if you'd like.

So, let me help you with your bags...



and we can go in.



Hi, sweetie.



Come on in the house,

and I'll show you around, okay?



- This is Greg, my husband.

- Hi.



- Come on in.

- You guys like to watch football?



- I don't know, sir.

- Come on over here.



You'll learn.



- This is my husband, Greg.

- Hi.



This is Delia...



and her adorable children.



You know what I got?



Is this the cutest thing?

Here, you gotta check this out.



A cat!



That's Tandy. You want to go see her?



Come here, you fucking cat.



Why don't you come on in?



Greg's father owns the bank in Wise.



Greg is one of the officers there.



Greg, poo, do you want iced tea?



No, I'm good. Thank you.



Kids, I've got cookies.



I'll put them right here, okay?

This way, no crumbs on the couch.



- Iced tea?

- Sure.



I just want to tell you, I'm really

sorry that you're having a difficult time.






How's your father?



He's all right. The same.



Does he still keep...



goats, was it?



He's retired.



Where do you think I could look for a job?



What sort of work do you care to do?



Any kind.



I have a cousin...



down in Jersey.



New Jersey. He's about to have...



- Excuse me.

- I'll be with you in a minute.



Hey, Ma.



Just remember,

I'll be working at the hospital until  :  .



So I should pick you up at,

like,   :     :   right?



So, that's a Saab, right?

Out there, your car, that's a Saab?






Does it have heated seats?

Maybe a reversible hood, right?



'Cause I've worked on...



Listen, is there someone I can talk to

about a job?



Delia was a good waitress.



She worked fast, remembered everything...



and frightened the customers just enough

to keep them in line...



while inciting their lust, if they were men...



- Fries, please.

- All right.



... and wariness, if they were women.



If anyone was rude to her,

she spat in their food.



It seemed fair.

She never did it when she had a cold.



Nine times thirty?



That's right.



The greasy son of the short-order cook

came in every day for a free lunch.



Great shirt you're wearing.



The kids all went to school down the road.



Like I was saying, I live in the basement

because I have a water bed.



She wants me.






What are you doing?



What does it look like I'm doing?



I always do the cleaning at night.



I know you do.

I just thought I would lend you a hand.



You know, the place really looked like

it needed a scrub. So, I just...



Don't bother trying to show

you're better than me.



I mean, shit, look at me.



Delia, I'm sorry. I really didn't...



I didn't mean anything by it.



A freak accident in Manhattan

has left two men dead.



A man police identified

as Desmond Canetto...



was shot in the head

by an unidentified gunman...



while driving down Varick Street

at  :   this morning.



Police say Canetto

was probably dead at the wheel...



when his car veered into the sidewalk,

hitting a man...



and grazing an unidentified woman

who left the scene of the accident...



Hey, Delia...



I don't guess you'd want

to take a ride with me sometime?



Where are you going to drive me,

Mylert? Crazy?



Right. I don't know, around.



We could go to the movies,

but that would be a date.



Pick me up after work.



I get off at  :  .



So, I'll come by at, like,  :    :   right?



Better get me back to my car.



I gotta feed my kids.



My mother's working nights

at the hospital this week.



- Hey, you're not my boyfriend, okay?

- I know.



So, I don't need to know

your mom's schedule.



I just thought...



Stop thinking.



Greta Herskovitz had been married

to Lee Schneeweiss for four years.



Anything funny in the paper?



"Before we acquired Mr. Bloomberg,

New Yorkers...



"enjoyed destroying the careers..."



Lee worked as a fact checker

for The New Yorker...



and was whittling away

at an       page dissertation...



about cannibalism

in Victorian Arctic expeditions.



Lee was a kind, quiet man.



If he ever fell out of love with Greta...



she knew he would go

into therapy and fix it.



- All right?

- Yeah.



But she hadn't bargained

on her own success.



A year earlier,

Greta was carrying seven file folders...



each containing a recipe for rice pudding.



She was currently editing a book

by Tammy Lee Felber...



entitled     Ways to Cook Rice.



Hey, who made that suit?



It's Liz Claiborne.



Ms. Herskovitz,

would you come in here, please?



Aaron Gelb was the legendary senior editor

of Warren and Howe.






So, fire me. Do it.



Just get it over with.



I don't want this idiotic job, anyway.



You can take your rice pudding

and shove it up your ass.



Thavi Matola wants to have lunch with you.



Thavi Matola was the hottest novelist

of his generation.



...called me up and said we had

an excellent editor here. And it was you.



Greta had never edited anything

but cookbooks.



Do you have any idea

why he might have said that?



Maybe he likes to cook.



On the day of the meeting,

Thavi Matola was    minutes late.



Greta Herskovitz?



- I'm Thavi Matola.

- Hi. Yes, I know. It's nice to meet you.



Have you been here long?



Not that long.



- You mind if I smoke?

- Go ahead.



It's a good place here.



Does W.H. Have an...



expense account here?



I really loved your first book.



It's a piece of shit.



- I think that's pretty common.

- What? Second thoughts after publication?



No, false modesty.



- Do you wish to hear our specials?

- The pasta's good.



- I'll have steak frites.

- Do you wish to hear our specials?



I'll just have

the mozzarella and tomatoes, and...



Do you want wine?



- Lf you...

- A bottle of house red, please.



Very well.



So, what's the new book about?

If you don't mind talking about it.



Laos, the trip over.



That must have been frightening.

How old were you?



I was    I had left my family.



- Have you written much?

- About     pages.



Aren't I the one

supposed to be asking questions?



I don't know.



What's your story?



I was born in Manhattan.



I went to the Fleming School uptown,

a small private, you know.



Then to boarding school,

then to college, then to law school.



My father's a lawyer. We're not talking.

My mother is...






They're divorced. I mean, they were.



I'm   .



My father has a  -year-old.



God Almighty, please let me shut up.



My friend Felicia Wong

said you were great at trimming fat.



Felicia Wong

had written short stories at Harvard.



Greta was the editor of The Advocate.

She had an eye for the inessential.



The writers called her "The Grim Reaper"...



but they all wanted her

to comb through their work.



She's a castrating bitch.



You're a lying bastard.

You deserve each other.



I have a tendency to overwrite.



I need someone to kick my ass.



I can kick your ass.



We'll renegotiate your contract next week.



She went straight to the most expensive

shoe store she had ever heard of...



and put a pair of pointy alligator heels

on her credit card.



She couldn't begin to afford them,

but she needed to feel worthy.



She needed to feel like a pro.



He wants me to do it!



- That's amazing.

- Why do I feel guilty all of a sudden?



Because you're crazy. Come here.



I am very, very proud of you.



A toxic blend of anxiety and elation

was building up in Greta's mind.



It seemed to be actually pressing

against her skull.



She craved air. She wanted to go out.



She wanted to tell people her news.

She wanted to celebrate.



She remembered a party in Brooklyn

being given by Mimi...



an old friend from Exeter,

who had recently returned from India.



- God, you scared me.

- You scared me, too.



Oscar had been a suitor of Greta's at

Harvard, but she would not sleep with him.



Now, there was a gentle neutrality

in Oscar's tone.



He was speaking to her

as if she was mentally ill, or had cancer.



She knew why, too.



It was because

she had turned out to be a loser.



- I'm sorry to hear about your mother.

- Thanks.



I was talking to your husband.

He seems like a really nice guy.



- He'll never leave me.

- That seems like a weird reason to...



That's not the main reason. I love him.



He's this wonderful person.

I think he's so funny and interesting...



- Great?

- He's the greatest.



- Great.

- He's a great guy.



- You don't have to convince me.

- What about you? Are you married?



God, no, I'm only   .



- I'm only    Oscar.

- I mean, I...



Are you seeing anyone?



Yeah. We don't see each other a lot.



She's with the Boston Symphony.

I'm with the Brooklyn.



Are you still with that publishing...



Yeah, Warren and Howe, right.



Actually, I just got this great job...



editing Thavi Matola's new book.



The guy who wrote Blue Mountain?



- That's amazing.

- God, I'm disgusting.



- That's great.

- I've got to get back to Lee.



Is that still going on today,

with all that stuff...



I should get some sleep. I have to call

a guy at  :   about a fly-fishing article.



- I'm too excited to sleep.

- Stay.



- Yeah?

- Sure, yuck it up.



- Hi.

- How you doing?



Good. How are you?



It's amazing, right?



She stayed longer than she intended,

and drank more than she should have.



Want to share a cab?



I'm on   th and  nd. You can drop me off.



Share a cab.



I don't think so.



- Come home with me.

- No.



- Come on.

- Please.



- One conversation.

- No.






Greta was reminded of a day

   years earlier...



the day that changed her life.



She drove to her parents'

country house from law school...



with some tremendous news for her dad.



A paper she had written

on capital punishment...



was going to be published

in the Harvard Law Review.



Greta's father, Avram Herskovitz...



was one of the most powerful lawyers

in the country.



He defended the indefensible.

He was on the news a lot, saying:



This decision is a victory

for justice in this country.



Some people thought he was a moral giant.



Others didn't think he cared about guilt

or innocence, only about winning.



Greta knew he was both of these things.



She wanted to be just like him.






Greta recognized her.



She was the new junior partner

in her father's firm.



Greta'd always suspected her

of something...



but, until now, she didn't know what.



- Where's Mom?

- I think she's upstairs.



Greta's mother, Maroushka,

was    when she married Greta's father.



She was a Polish girl, born in Auschwitz

a week before the arrival of the Russians.



After the liberation, Maroushka

was brought up in a series of orphanages.



Her story stirred

some deep yearning in Avram.



He had to save this woman.

He had to give her a beautiful life.



He brushed his first family off

like leaves from a sweater.



When Greta was born, he cherished her.

She was his new beginning...



life sprung from the ash heap.

They were inseparable, alike.



As unconsciously as a leaf unfurling...



Greta chose to embody

her father's charming voraciousness...



shrinking instinctively

from the wistful sweetness of her mother...



smelling, as it did, ever so faintly of death.



After the divorce,

Greta stopped speaking to her father...



returned his monthly checks unopened.



Then, one day,

she just dropped out of law school.



She couldn't lend meaning

to the words anymore.



That November,

Maroushka was diagnosed with cancer.



Greta moved back to New York

to be with her mother.



Maroushka died.



Avram's new wife had a baby girl.



It's up in the mountain lakes,

is what you're saying.



And what baits are used for those?

Is it the same kind of bait...



that you're using in New England,

or for the introduced fish?



Which is like a worm, or that's a fly?

What is that?



And the females in May? Late May.






Thank you very much for your time,

Mr. Conway. I think that's it.



I think that's all I need, Mr. Conway.

Good luck with the fish.



You want me to make you some pancakes?



I love you so much.



Thavi Matola encouraged Greta

to make radical suggestions for rewrites.



They met a couple of times a week.



What did you think about

this paragraph, here?



- This part is new, and I return to it later.

- It is kind of redundant, though.



I'll leave a mark by it.

If you want to cut it, we could just cut it.



Basically, you said that before.



You hungry?



Are you hungry?






What is happening to your hearing?



How does your husband feel

about us working together like this?



He's fine, I guess.



He isn't jealous?



I told him you were gay.



Is that what you think?



I vacillate.



So do I.



- You want some tomato juice?

- Sure.



The truth is,

Greta had a little problem with fidelity.



She was reminded of an episode

that happened during her engagement...



and which stung her conscience to this day.



Excuse me. Do you have a cigarette?



- No, I don't smoke.

- Too bad.



- I think I should be congratulated.

- Did you quit?



I was never addicted.

I used to smoke occasionally...



then it struck me that it was idiotic.



It wouldn't have been idiotic

if I was addicted...



then it just would have been pathetic.



- I'm sorry, I just got out of the shrink.

- No need to apologize. It's a stupid habit.



- I'm quitting when I turn   .

- When's your birthday?



- The   rd.

- I'm getting married on the   rd.



- Terrific. We should celebrate.

- An abstinence party.



- Good luck.

- Thanks.






- I can still do it.

- Nice.



What are you studying?



I'm actually studying to be a rabbi.






- You don't look like a rabbi.

- I'm not orthodox.



The next week was a tangle

of wedding preparations and subterfuge...



what with traveling uptown to see Max,

and downtown to see Lee.



The fittings...



the fucking...



the bachelorette party.



Only her trusted friend, Lola Sanduli,

who knew Greta better than anyone...



knew about Max.

And she felt the whole thing was harmless.



It's just Greta being Greta.



It didn't occur to Greta...



to call the marriage off

because she was having a torrid affair.



She kept the two narratives distinct

in her mind.



They coexisted, as if in twin universes...



separated by vast fields of space.



At the end of that crazy week,

Greta felt very much in love with Lee.



The week with Max had left her

feeling absolutely gorgeous.



Now, she wished he would disappear.



- Is he even Jewish?

- What difference does it make?



Makes a difference.



They were married

in Lee's hometown in Ohio.



Greta's father took her new life

as a personal affront.



He didn't think Lee had size.



Everyone in the Herskovitz clan

had to have size.



But Lee made Greta feel safe,

and she adored his family.



Thank you, O Lord, for the meal

we are about to receive.



And God bless everyone

in this home. Amen.



His pure, humble quest for knowledge

made her want to live a simple, decent life.



She had stopped desiring other men.

She wanted to have a baby.



She felt the ambition drain out of her,

like pus from a lanced boil.



So, how long is Matola going to take

to finish this book?



I have no idea.



- It could be years, right?

- Not everyone writes as slowly as you do.



I'm sorry.



A tacit agreement

had grown between them...



that she wouldn't see Lee's dissertation

until it was finished.



Now, she felt perversely drawn to the text.



As she read it,

it was all she could do to stop herself...



from deleting whole paragraphs.



The thing was swollen to bursting

with redundancies.



Why can't he write like he talks?



But do you need that?

Do you think you really need this part?



As the weeks wore on,

the groping continued.



But she would never sleep with him.



- I'm just feeling like it's...

- Sorry I'm late.



- Hi, Darius. How are you?

- Good. How are you doing?



You sure that's what you want to do?



You know, she's trying. She'll work on it.



You know, it's not all her. It's me.



Thavi Matola's book was hailed

as a masterpiece, and sold big.



Thavi thanked Greta warmly

in the acknowledgements.



A week after the book was reviewed, Greta

had an offer from another publishing house.



They wanted her to work

as one of their senior editors...



for an enormous pay hike.



Greta gave Gelb a chance to match it.



When he balked, she took the new job,

and Thavi left with her.



When Greta's father

heard the news of her success...



he insisted on throwing a party.



- Come on in, guys.

- The place looks great.



How you doing?



- My God! How are you, man?

- Good.



This is Chris. Greta, my wife.



- We went to college together.

- How do you know the Herskovitzes?



- It's her dad.

- So, what's new? Where have you been?



All is very well.

Still working hard on the dissertation.



Hope I'm getting near

what I hope is the end.



- Hi, Dad.

- There she is.



- How are you?

- How you been?



She hadn't let him

get this close to her in years.



- Congratulations.

- Thank you.



We thought we'd lost you.



- You didn't. Hi.

- Hi, Greta.



I remember the funniest stories

about you guys.



You've turned into this huge success.



Very unusual person, I imagine.



I'm really pleased.

I had such a really interesting...



and thrilling, challenging...



time with Thavi.



And I really got on top of it, you know?



I really loved it. I loved editing.



- He sounds so interesting.

- He's so interesting.



Darling, they're here. Come on.



She's played dead all these years,

and now look at her.



Everyone has their own personal velocity.



It was sweet of my dad to throw that party.



- Even though they were all his friends.

- It was fun.



Now that you're done, maybe we can

take a long weekend somewhere.



Sounds great.



How could he still love me?

If he does, it's because he doesn't know me.



I'm rotten with ambition, a lusty little troll...



the kind of demon

you'd find on hell's bottom floor...



pulling fingernails off the loan sharks.



She tried hard to stay with it...



but her mind was swarming

with images from the party.



She couldn't help wondering if, one day...



she might raise enough money

from her dad's friends...



to start her own publishing house.



The next day

was the first day of her new job.



A man police identified

as Desmond Canetto...



was shot in the head

by an unidentified gunman...



while driving down Varick Street

at  :   this morning.



Police say Canetto

was probably dead at the wheel...



when his car veered into the sidewalk,

hitting one man...



and grazing an unidentified woman,

who left the scene of the accident.






Anything funny in the paper?



Suddenly a terrible thought

came into Greta's mind, clear and cruel.



- All right?

- Yeah.



She was going to dump

her beautiful husband...



like a redundant paragraph.



"Everyday, somewhere in the United States,

an extremely rich person wakes up...



"in his or her extremely large bedroom,

and decides that it is time...



"to give something back

by running for public office...



"of great prestige and power..."



A freak accident in Manhattan

has left two men dead.



A man police identified as

Desmond Canetto...



was shot in the head

by an unidentified gunman...



while driving down Varick Street

at  :   this morning.



Police say Canetto was probably

dead at the wheel...



when his car veered into the sidewalk,

hitting one man...



and grazing an unidentified woman,

who left the scene of the accident.



The victim, identified as Erland Stonstrom,

a Norwegian national...



was taken

to St. Vincent's emergency room...



where we just had word he died,

after struggling for his life for several hours.



There are no suspects in the shooting.

This is Maria Ramirez...



- You're my first hitchhiker.

- You never picked up anyone before?



- No.

- Why'd you pick me?



She had known he was a sign.



I'm gonna go get some more

doughnuts, okay?



I'll be right back.



- Can I help you?

- Yeah.



Can I get a box of honey-glazed

and two large coffees, please.



- Weren't you just here?

- I'm pregnant.



- That it?

- Yeah.



$  please.



Where do you want to be dropped off?



- Where are you headed?

- Upstate.



Upstate's fine.



Okey dokey.



She didn't know where she was going.



- Do you want to come in?

- I guess not.



Be back in a second.



Paula hadn't been home in two years.



Since her mother got the new boyfriend,

and her father moved to Arizona.



Oh, my God, it is you!



I thought I was hallucinating up there.



- Hey, sweetheart.

- Hi, Mama.



- Are you all right?

- I'm fine.



- You want some coffee? Do you want juice?

- Juice.



Peter's going to be down in a minute.



Isn't he usually at work by now?



- Why didn't you call first?

- I was just stopping by. Is it okay?



It's fine. Are you okay, are you sure?



I'm fine.



- Hello, Paula.

- Hello.



You changed your hair.



Thank you.



- What brings you up our way?

- I came to see my mother.



How much do you need?



- What happened to you?

- I was in an accident.



With the car?



I was with this guy, and he got run over.



- Oh, my God.

- We'd just switched places.



Sixty seconds earlier,

and it would have been me.



Start from the beginning, honey.



Vincent and I had had a fight.



She had just found out she was pregnant...



and he came home from the Laundromat

with wet clothes in the hamper.



The damp underwear hanging over

the radiators filled her with panic.



She hadn't told him about the baby.



She knew it would get real if she said it.

She didn't want it to get real.



I'd gone to a club with Fiona and Jackie.



Don't disapprove, okay?

Because otherwise I'm not going to tell you.



I didn't say anything.



This guy offered me a drink.



He had an accent.



So, I asked him where he was from,

and he said Norway.



Said that he directed some music videos

out in LA for MTV.



There was a recognition

between them, tension.



They were hungry for each others'

conversation. They talked for hours.



She kept wondering if he was the reason

why she'd come here.



I used to write. I used to paint.



Now I'm a waitress.



I think I'll be one of those people

with a lot of potential...



who never really takes off.



Those are always the best people.



And we were walking and talking...



and this car drove by,

and muddy water splashed all over me.



I'm sorry. My fault.



He apologized, and he said

that the man should walk on the outside...



so the woman doesn't get dirty.

So we switched.



And then I heard a noise, like a shot.

I said, "Is that a shot?"



He said, "No, it's a car."

Then we kept walking.



And then there was a smack on my arm.

And he vaporized, next to me.



And then I was on my face on the street.






I sat up and I looked around, and he was...



nowhere. And...



there was a car at the end of the block.

It was crashed.



And then I saw him

draped over a parking meter.



There's cops everywhere,

and I was having trouble breathing.



And I just took off.



I just ran away.



And I got in the car. I started driving...



and driving.



I don't even know what I'm doing here.



But I know

that I'm not supposed to go home.



What do you mean,

you're not supposed to go home?



I want to get an underwater camera.



I'm gonna get one.



Her mind was racing through images, ideas.



She wanted to write, to paint.



She had so many scattered ambitions.



This was her chance.



She was going to make it all happen.



She's here. Hold on. It's Vincent.



- Hi.

- Paula...



I called the police.

I have been going out of my mind.



I was going to call.



Great. Thanks.



What happened?



They had met two years earlier,

a week after she had run away from home.



You look like

you were waiting for something.



She had been, she always was.



That afternoon,

she moved into his apartment.



She had no place else to go.



She felt that he had been

drawn across the sky...



all the way from Haiti, to save her.



A year passed.



- When are you coming home?

- I don't know.



I don't believe this.



- Okay.

- Okay, what?



Me, too. See you later.



I'll see you soon.



Who's the kid in the car?



He needed a ride.



- You picked up some strange kid?

- Yes.



- Maybe he's cold.

- I left the engine running.



She left the keys in the car

with some runaway.



That's not safe...



- I'm going to work.

- Okay.



You probably won't be here when I get back.



I'll say good-bye now.



He's just like Dad, only he's uglier.



You make him defensive.



I'm pregnant.



I'm not going to keep it, though.



What are you doing?



How pregnant?



She could feel the thing inside her,

an ache without pain.



She imagined it sucking the seconds

out of her life, as it built itself...



cell by cell, devouring.






No, Vincent, you know...



No, I don't know.



Hold on.



Don't do this!



Okay, it's time for you to go.



I'm going to give you some money.



Here's $  . Good luck.



Do you got anywhere to go?



My uncle.



You've been a great traveling companion.



Oh, my God.



She saw the edge of a wound, bruises.



We're going to the hospital. That's it.






Get back here.






Please stop!



I'm sorry.



We don't have to go to the hospital, okay?

I promise.



We'll go to a pharmacy.



We'll just get some disinfectant

and some gauze, okay?



And then I'll let you go on your way.



Stay calm. It's okay. I'm sorry.



Did I hurt you?



Come on. Let's go back to the car.



I'm sorry.






Can I help you?



- Paula Friedrich.

- Hi, Mrs. Toron.



It's been ages.

You're in Manhattan now, aren't you?



I assumed you were off at college,

but your mother said you were in the city.



- Yes, ma'am.

- Wesley's a senior at Syracuse.



That's great.



Listen, I'm sorry.

I'm really in a bit of a hurry.



I'm looking for some...



disinfecting gel, antibacterial.



I think I can rummage that up.



Thank you.



- Do you need anything else?

- No, thanks.



- How much do I owe you?

- Just go.



Thank you.



Sit down.



Where are you hurt?



All over.



Listen, I'm sorry I have to do this...



but if I don't disinfect those cuts,

they're going to get infected.






I'm sorry.



Deep breath, okay?



I'm sorry.






Almost there.



- Yes?

- It's me.



Where are you?



- I'm in a hotel.

- What's the problem?



I don't know.



I was driving down the road,

and there was this boy on the road.



He looked so cold.



I picked him up.



And I found out he was really badly beaten.



What do you mean, beaten?



It looks like somebody

tied him to something, and tortured him.



It's so awful.



So you're in a motel with this kid?



Yeah. I had to help him.



He doesn't have anywhere to go.

He's just a baby, Vincent.



Can't we take him home?



Just back to Brooklyn, just for a little while?



Are you crazy? We've got no space.



- You don't know this kid.

- Please.



Please, honey.



Don't make me leave him here. I can't do it.



I'm sorry.



Baby, listen...



something happened.



I was with this guy, and he got hit by a car.



- We'd just traded places.

- Your mother just told me.



I don't know what all of this means...



but it's got to mean something,

don't you see that?



If he hadn't been with me,

he wouldn't be dead.



It makes sense.



It's gotta be a sign.



- I don't know.

- Bring the kid.



He can stay with us. We'll take care of him.



Just come home.



Please, come home.



And take a train.

I don't want you to drive like this.



Thank you.



Thank you so much.



I talked to my boyfriend.



He said that it's fine if you want to come

and stay with us in Brooklyn for a while...



till you get better.



You know,

till we figure out something to do.



I'm way too tired to drive.

So, we'll take a train, okay?



I'm going to live with you?



Just for a little while, I mean,

with me and my boyfriend...



until we sort stuff out.



What do you want for lunch?

I'm going to get an egg sandwich.



I don't think

I'm going to have lunch just now.






Think about it.



I'll pick you up an egg sandwich for later.






You little shit!



- You want me to call the police?

- No, I know him.






Can you tell me

how to get to the train station from here?



Sure. Make a right here,

and then go down to the end of the road...



and it's right there.



Okay. Thank you.




Special help by SergeiK