Jack Goes Home (2016) Movie Script

- I heard a sound.
A wind.
A strong wind.
And then a whisper in that wind.
Remnants. Fragments.
Shattered pieces
of an illusive memory
steeped in pixilated streaks
and auto-tracked frames.
A laugh, a kiss.
Where am I?
In your arms? Your lap?
On your shoulders?
Tap, tap, tapping like the rap,
rap, rapping of the raven.
That wind would become rain.
That rain would become snow
and that snow would become ice.
That ice will melt back
to the sky.
We are born of muscle,
of meat and of blood.
Not from loving arms,
nor brutality or harm.
As family is, as family does.
Brother, sister, mother, father.
We are lodged and trapped
in every pore.
But that is our skin,
nothing more.
We are at one
with the floorboards,
the tin roof and the sky.
We are left with two questions.
- Hey, Jacks.
- Hey.
- Writing poetry on our
precious company time again?
- Artists write poetry.
Assholes just complain.
- True. How long
till the big day again?
- Three more months
and I'll be a daddy.
- It's Andy, right?
- Unless he got a sex change
in the womb,
yes, that's the plan.
- That's so awesome, bro.
- Thanks. Don't call me bro.
We're not 17.
It makes you seem old.
- Look, asshole, I was just
gonna get a cup of coffee.
Do you want something or not?
- No, I'm good. Thanks, man.
- I see. Man's okay, not bro.
- You are a man, right?
Thus I can call you as such.
However, you are not my brother.
Does that make sense?
You see the difference?
- Dude, you're such a dick.
See ya later.
- Jack Thurlow.
- Jack Thurlow?
- Yep. Just said it.
- Derrick Thompson with Hudson
valley sheriff's department.
I'm sorry to tell you,
but there's been an accident.
- Wh-wh-what kind of accident?
- Your parents...
Damien and Theresa Thurlow...
They... they lost control
of their car last night.
- Are they alright?
- I'm so sorry.
- Hi, babe.
- Hiya, beautiful.
- How's our tree house?
- Ah, it's alright.
Same ol', same ol'. How's, um...
How's your grandmother?
- Hmm...
Hold on.
Sorry. I just didn't want
my mom or uncle to hear this.
Baby, she's fucking dying.
And no one will admit it.
It's like they're too English
or something.
I'm just...
- Well... why are you still up?
- Um... I don't know.
Couldn't sleep. I...
My uncle's house
is really creepy.
The wind...
Just rattles and rattles.
Taps and taps.
But, hey, the good news!
Our little one's doing well.
- Let me see.
- Hey, what's that jacket
you're wearing?
- Hmm? Oh, it's, uh...
It's my dad's.
He died today.
- What?
- Yeah, uh... he and my mom
were at the cabin and apparently
when they were driving
back to the city,
they lost control of the car
and flew off the highway.
My mom made it. Minor injuries.
She's home now, but, um...
Yeah, my dad's...
My dad's dead.
They didn't wanna give details,
but I got them anyway.
So I guess the...
The windshield severed his head
clean off his body,
or at least nearly clean off.
I guess there was still some...
Ligaments attached
to the back of his neck.
And then the wheel
broke all of his ribs
and caused
massive internal bleeding,
which would've killed him
regardless of his head
getting chopped off.
Fuck, man.
- Baby...
Love of my life...
I-I don't know what to say.
I don't know... what to do.
- Do? Say?
There's nothing to do or say.
Um... we live, we drive,
we crash, we die.
Had to happen sometime.
- Jack... you're scaring me.
- What do you mean? I'm fine.
I'm already at peace with it.
It's weird. It's crazy, right?
- Your dad was your best friend.
God, I'm so sorry.
- Shhh. Stop it. It's fine.
I'm... I'm fine. Really.
I mean it.
- Hey, it's Shanda.
Leave a message.
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
- Hey. It's me.
Um, I don't know if you got
the voicemail I left you earlier
about the accident
and my parents.
Uh... yeah, I...
I just wanted to touch base.
I'll probably get in
around 1:00 tomorrow,
just cab it from the airport.
Uh, anyway, I'm fine.
Excited to see you, shithead.
- Yeah, I had...
I had to come out here.
He's my best friend.
I changed my flight to his.
I think he's asleep.
Yeah, yeah,
I'll see you... then.
Yeah, love you, too.
Okay, bye.
- Ah...
- Jack?
Jack, I think
you're sleepwalking again.
- Ah...
- I don't wanna wake you
or upset you,
but you need to go back to bed,
You have to wake up early
For the airport.
Jack, what...
What are you saying?
What are you saying, Jack?
- Anne frank.
- What?
- Up there.
I... want... you...
- Up where?
- I'll go up there, too.
- What's in the attic... Jack?
- Oh.
I'm in the attic.
I'm in the attic!!
- It's okay.
I'm in the attic!!
I'm in the attic!
Hey, hey, hey!
- Hey.
- I don't remember
falling asleep last night.
- Hmm. Fuck.
What time is it?
- Seven-ish.
You sleepwalked last night.
- Did I?
I haven't done that in years.
- Yeah, well... you went crazy.
You beat the shit outta me.
- Jesus Christ. I'm so sorry.
- Hey, better me
than your baby momma, right?
Fuck it.
So, uh, what's in the attic?
- The attic?
- Yeah, you, uh, kept screaming
on and on about... the attic.
- I have no idea.
- Look, just so you know...
I'd do anything for you,
you stupid bitch.
- I'd do anything for you,
you lazy whore.
- We better start packing.
You're going home.
- Mom?!
- Oh...
Oh, Jack.
My god. You're here.
- 'Course I am.
Give me this.
- Be very careful.
Careful, careful, careful.
- How's your pain level?
- Oh.
It's... it's good.
Not bad at all, really.
- Where's rusty?
- Oh, my god.
He's still at the vet.
We didn't take him to the cabin.
- Why not?
- The owls.
They drive him crazy.
You can get him tomorrow
afternoon, if you want.
Well, for godssake,
give your mother a hug.
- I'm so sorry, mom.
I'm so sorry.
- For what?
- For... the accident,
that I wasn't here sooner.
- Well, that makes no sense.
You're sorry?
You had nothing to do with it.
- I wasn't saying I'm sorry
like it was the conclusion
of an argument.
I was just being nice.
- Well, you don't need
to be nice.
None of this is nice.
You need to be here
and you are, so I thank you.
I thank you for that.
Because your daddy
would appreciate it too.
One hour, honey.
- Awesome.
So are you gonna play?
- Play? Wh-what do you mean?
- Violin. At... at the funeral.
- Oh. Um...
I don't know what I would play.
- I dunno...
Dad always liked that Chopin
piece that you transposed.
- No, no, no, no.
That piece is for keys,
not strings.
But if it's really important
to you, I-I'll...
I'll see what I can do.
- Look, I swear to god,
nobody on this planet
makes better fucking lasagna
than you.
- Hey now. Is that any way to
talk at the dining-room table?
- Please. My table etiquette
was intrinsically bound
from within
at far too young an age.
- There it is.
- There what is?
- Your father.
He had a mouth
that could run a marathon.
He could spout a thousand
words in 25 nanoseconds.
It was in him
and now it is in you.
- Jesus Christ.
How are you...
- How am I what?
- How are you you right now?
So okay?
- What am I supposed
to be doing?
Am I supposed to be crying?
- Yes. Yes.
- You're not.
- I never cry.
But you cry
every five fucking minutes,
so what the fuck?
You were in an accident.
A fatal and painful accident.
Dad got his head chopped off
right next to you.
You devoted your life to a man
who is now dead.
You lived with him.
You spoke with him.
You fought with him.
You invited him to your bedroom
and let him come inside you
to create a child.
This child.
This pretentious little fuck.
I'm yours... and his,
and I wanna share this pain
with you.
- Are you finished?
- I don't know. Am I?
- I'm proud of you.
I am.
You know, right out of the gate,
you had your say with me.
Now it's my turn.
I always loved your biting wit,
your acerbic observations,
and - oh, my god -
your immense vocabulary...
when it came to whining...
About something simple
in such an unnecessarily
complicated way,
but as your mother,
I'm gonna tell you right now...
To shut the fuck up.
You wanna sit across from me
at the same table
where I spoon-fed you
and dictate how
I should experience my grief?!
You lost your father
at an unfairly young age,
and that is a hurricane
of hurt and confusion,
and I respect that,
but you make no mistake,
I lost my husband.
I'm gonna tell you something.
I don't care if you are my son,
or if you were my neighbor
or you were my enemy,
I will be goddamned
if anyone is gonna tell me
how I should shed tears
in the name
of my fucking husband!
Ah! Ah!
I regret ever spreading my legs.
Just hold on, buddy.
You are not ready for sleep,
are you?
- No!
- Okay.
Alright. Stop, stop.
One sock.
Two sock.
There we go.
- What is that, daddy?
- It's a tape recorder, my boy.
It's, uh, a device
that makes things last forever.
With this, you can hear me
no matter where you are
or where I am.
- That's weird.
- You were so good
in the car ride over here.
Mommy's not gonna
leave you alone.
She's gonna go right in with you
and make sure nothing happens
to her little love bug. No.
My sweet baby. You're so good.
- Ah, here he is!
- You're so gonna get
lots of treats.
- Oh, yeah. Oh, man.
Oh, fuck, I missed you, buddy.
I don't know
why they put him up here
for a whole fucking month.
My mom never liked him anyway.
- Is that gonna be cash
or credit?
- Uh, credit, please.
- Okay. If you wouldn't mind
just signing a few things here.
I am so sorry.
- Oh. Thank you.
- No, I really mean it.
- I appreciate it.
- Your father really loved you.
He would waltz in here
every week
for rusty's diabetes shot
and he would hold rusty
high over his head
and he would talk
about his two sons, yeah.
You and rusty.
He even made all of us...
We all got a subscription
to look alive magazine
just 'cause he said
you wrote for it.
He was a good man.
- Um... that's it.
Thank you very much... Nancy.
- Oh. Don't forget your card.
- Oh, thank you.
- May god be with you, Jack.
- Can I ask you something,
- You just did.
- Um, how many hours a day
do you work here?
- Twelve.
- And... how many animals
do you see die by euthanasia
or... or... or physical failure
each day?
: About 11 or 12.
- That's about one per hour.
So assuming that these pets
have families,
other than
the lonely old cat lady,
you must see double, triple,
quadruple that in...
In crying faces, right?
Devastated faces.
Tragic faces.
And yet, somehow...
you believe
that god cares about us.
- Oh, I'm so sorry.
I did not mean...
- shhh. Nancy. Nancy.
Nancy, I'm not...
I'm not challenging you.
I'm admiring you.
I'm... reminding myself
that there's still goodness
in the world.
Still good people in the world.
Good people like you, Nancy.
Thank you, Nancy.
Mom, you awake?
- I need to sleep!
- Okay. Just letting you know
that I... I got rusty.
- Oh, god.
Don't let him scratch the door.
I just hate when he does that.
- Will do.
Uh, Shanda's coming over
a bit later with food.
Do you want anything?
- No. I need to sleep.
- Okay.
- Did you talk
to that whore nurse, Nancy?
- At the vets?
Yeah, she sent her condolences.
- Huh.
I bet she fucking did.
- What does that mean?
- Swear I'm gonna kill
that bitch.
- What bitch?
- What bitch? Crystal!
That fucking bitch.
- You mean crystal,
the love of your life?
- If she's the love of my life,
fucking shoot me
right fucking now.
- Give it an hour, you'll be
in love all over again.
- Pfft!
Shut up and eat your burrito.
The house is so quiet.
- Yeah, it is.
Just like mom always wanted.
Guess she finally got her wish.
- Can I tell you
something that...
You probably shouldn't hear
right now?
- Please do.
Your specialty is providing
unwanted information.
- I always thought this house
was haunted.
- Really? Why?
- I don't know.
Ever since we were kids,
it just felt like
there was some dark vagina
just hovering over this place,
waiting to swallow me up.
- Maybe it was just your latent
homosexuality talking, hmm?
- Shut up. I'm being serious.
I've always been scared here,
Why do you think
we'd fall asleep in the TV room
and then you'd wake up
in the morning
and find me passed out
in the yard?
Just felt safer outside.
- You'd go outside
'cause you walked in your sleep.
- Hey, so did you.
God, we're so weird.
- Found something in the attic
last night.
- What?
- It was a tape recorder
with a full tape.
It was labeled "for Jack."
- Well, did you listen to it?
- What are you looking at?
- We're best friends.
- Yeah.
- No secrets.
- No secrets.
- To be honest, it wasn't...
Your house
that's always scared me.
It's your mom.
She always scared
the living shit out of me.
I'm sorry, but i...
- no, no, no, no sorries.
- Every time...
I'd leave here
to go back to my house...
I would just be thinking:
good luck.
- Hey!
Peepin' tom.
- Hey.
- What ya doing?
- Smokin'.
- You got a name?
- Jack.
- Duncan.
How come I ain't seen ya before?
- I live in L.A.
I'm just here
for some family shit.
- Ah. I see.
I see.
Hey, do ya wanna do some blow?
- 'Scuse me?
- Said, "do you wanna do
some blow?"
Do you want some or not?
If you don't snort it, I will.
- Symmetry.
See I... oh!
- So what do you say
you're doing back here
when you're all hot shit
parading around Hollywood?
- 'Cause there was an accident.
My dad got his head chopped off.
- Ah, so you're all
full of shit.
- Nah. No, truth, man.
He's dead.
Dead and gone.
As of... 48, 72 hours ago.
I dunno.
- You serious?
- Yeah.
Funeral's coming up.
Helluva lot a work, a funeral.
You're literally planning...
The party... of a lifetime.
- Well...
I know I'm supposed to say...
I'm sorry, but, um,
but I guess you're
pretty sick and tired
of hearing that by now.
instead, I'll just say...
"fuck, man."
- "Fuck man" is good.
- Did you love him?
- My dad?
- Yeah.
- More than anything.
- Mine was a piece of shit.
He hated me.
No, he hated himself.
Tried to hide a lot of secrets.
And those he couldn't hide,
my mom covered up for him.
A runt and a cunt.
A liar and a lioness.
- You're a child.
Who the fuck are you
to pontificate?
- Oh, man, I'm...
I'm pontificating?
- Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
Probably don't even know
the meaning of the word.
- Wait. I'm sorry.
What the fuck is your problem?
- Look, Doug, Duncan,
whatever the fuck your name is,
you jerk off in your window
at me.
You seduce me with drugs.
You think you've had a rough
life at 19, but I promise you,
you have no fucking clue
what you're talking about.
- Hmm.
Fuck you.
You're a fucking asshole!
And, more importantly,
you're out of your goddamn mind.
: Okay.
Get yourself all tucked in.
There ya go.
I'm gonna tell you a story
and we'll record it.
That way, it's here whenever
you need to fall asleep, okay?
Once upon a time,
there was a little boy,
and he went to the woods
with his mother.
They planned to pick berries
and flowers of color,
but instead
the boy picked up his brother.
His brother was shy
and so very mean,
and angered himself
at all that was seen.
The angry, old brother,
he needed a friend.
"Come with me," said mother,
and she danced to the end.
The boy, he cried out,
"oh, mother, no, no!"
The mean, old brother cried:
"Let it be so!"
To their surprise,
mother flew to the sky,
darting past sadness
and what makes us cry.
"Now, my dear boys,
you see nothing is wrong,"
their mother sang loudly
amidst flight and song.
You are with me,
the sky and the sea,
you who I love
and you who love me."
The boy sat down
at the edge of the cliff,
tears in his eyes
and wondering if.
But soon he would smile,
because all the while,
it was simply a dream
and no evil scheme.
Mother alight
lifts babe in her arms,
holding him tight
with all of her charms.
She sings a sweet hum,
a dear lovely song,
"till tomorrow, my darling,
here's where you belong."
You asleep, Jack?
Okay, good.
Here we go.
When you're all grown up...
When you're a big boy,
a young man,
when you're ready...
You're gonna find this tape.
In the attic.
When you're ready, Jack,
you go up to the attic.
- What? What the fuck?!
- What are you doing?
- You locked the attic.
Wh-wh-why did you lock it?
- What are you talking about?
- This attic was unlocked
a night ago. Now it's not.
Open the fucking door!
- Alright.
You wanna do this?
Let's do it!
I didn't lock the fucking attic,
but I have a feeling
that you wouldn't like
what you found up there,
sweet little boy of mine.
Not yesterday, not today,
and not tomorrow.
So, why don't you just curl up
and cry yourself to sleep
like a good little boy?
I'm gonna sit here...
Until I can trust
that you've gone to sleep.
Good boy.
- This is why, mom.
This is why
I need to go up there.
- In the attic.
When you're ready, Jack,
you go up to the attic.
And, someday,
you'll know the truth.
But just remember...
I love you more than anything.
- What is he talking about?
- Rewind.
- And, someday,
you'll know the truth.
But just remember...
I love you more than anything.
- Rewind. Play it again.
- Why?
- Just play it again.
Play that piece again right now.
Play it again.
- Just remember...
I love you more than anything.
- Rewind it and play it again.
Play it again!
- I love you more than anything.
- That's all that matters.
That he loved you.
- I love you more than anything.
I love you more than anything.
I love you more than anything.
- He loved you.
Shhh. Shhh...
- First, I just wanna thank
you all so much for coming.
It means a lot to both
my mother and my father.
I believe most of you
have known me since I was...
This big.
So you also know
I'm terrible at public speaking
and I did not prepare a speech
of any kind for today.
But here's what I will say.
My family - the unholy Trinity,
if you will -
could always agree
that a funeral
should never be a funeral...
But a celebration.
That's what today is.
It's a celebration of life...
Well lived.
A life of kindness.
My mother and I truly hope
you believe that.
I... I can still feel my father
standing behind me,
his supportive hand on my back,
telling me I can do anything.
And I look in front of me,
and thank god I have my mother
to tell me the same.
Still standing...
Right here with me.
Now, as my father would've said,
let's celebrate life...
Not death.
Celebrate perseverance...
Not failure.
The future, not the past.
The joy, not the pain.
Here's to you, dad.
And now my mother.
My mother...
That was beautiful, asshole.
- Well... thanks for coming.
- Yeah... real tough choice.
It was either this or happy hour
at the cracker barrel.
- Just give me a minute, okay?
What the hell is the matter
with you?
You have any idea
how awkward that was for me?
You were supposed to close
the whole thing.
- Just take me home.
- Look,
I get that you're hurting,
but you can't put everything
on me.
I'm fucking hurting too.
- Please...
Just take me home.
Thank you, Shanda.
I'm gonna go lie down.
- I have something
I wanna tell you,
and I really want you
to hear it.
You've been so strong
through all of this,
and I know it's hell,
because I've been there.
Losing my mom was probably...
The hardest thing
I've ever had to deal with,
even though she was
a complete psycho bitch.
But... I just want you to know
that no matter what...
I am here.
I am your friend.
What I mean by that... is,
I am here with a huge bag
of weed in my pocket.
And, as your friend,
I demand
that we get very fucking stoned.
- Thanks.
Is that dress yours?
- No. Crystal's.
She, uh, bought it
for her niece's baptism.
- That's ironic.
Bought for a birth,
worn for a death.
- Celebration. Remember?
- Ah... celebration.
- Your words, not mine.
- No. No, my mom's words.
She's always been hell-bent
that funerals aren't sad.
Hatred is just love.
Hitler was just misunderstood.
Dahmer's just a very hungry guy.
- Ugh. Yeah, Jack the ripper
was just defending himself.
- Pearl harbor's just a...
I didn't think that one through.
- Your dad would've been
real proud of you today.
- You think?
- I know.
Hey, you remember
when we were, like... 10, 11,
and I slept over and, uh...
We snuck out
and stole your dad's...
No, your mom's whiskey
and cigarettes.
- It was rum.
It was definitely rum.
- And your mom and dad
had that huge blowout fight.
In that window right over there.
- That wasn't a fight as much
as her throwing him around.
- And she threw him up against
the glass out of nowhere.
Scared the shit out of us.
We were laughing so hard.
We were hiding in the bushes.
Fuck. Why was that so funny
at the time?
- I don't know.
Maybe 'cause we... like,
really understood it, ya know?
- What do you mean?
- Like, like...
When you're a kid,
everything that was so important
is just so, so trivial now,
and vice versa.
- Mm-hmm.
- Like two people that happen
to be my parents
were just...
Fighting each other,
just throwing each other around.
That's... that's a funny thing
to watch when you're a kid.
Then you get older,
and you realize
that that shit is in you.
That your parents... are you.
And all that bitterness...
I'm... really stoned.
- Tell me something.
You feel like dancing?
- You know what?
I think I do.
- Hey, man.
Fancy meeting you here.
- Great, it's you.
- Sven.
How ya doin', daddy?
This is my best friend...
- Best friend, huh?
I thought his friend
was that dike over there.
Haven't seen you here before.
- Well, I've been coming here
my whole life
and I haven't seen you either.
I guess that makes us
equally strange.
- Let me see your hands.
- No.
- Well, Sven, he... reads palms.
Like a witch.
- Cool.
- Now, this is very interesting.
See, your heart line...
Goes all the way up to here.
But your head line...
Stops here.
- What does that mean?
- That means
you're already dead.
- I'm sorry about that.
- It's fine.
- No... it's not.
People like Sven think
they have the right to use
and abuse and manipulate
even if they don't know how
or why they have that right.
- May not know
the meaning of the word,
but tonight
you pontificate very well.
- Hey.
I liked what you said today.
At the celebration.
- You were there?
- Sorry.
Tried to stay as hidden
as I could.
- How did you know about it?
- Your mom told me.
Her and I speak all the time
since I moved in.
- How long ago did you move in?
- A while ago.
- You know my father?
- Uh, we... met each other
a few times, in passing.
To be honest, I don't think
he liked me very much.
He'd only say a few words to me
every time we saw each other.
But I'm not trying to say
that he was an ass or anything,
or that I'm any less sorry...
- here we go with the sorries.
- Hey. Come on. Hey.
Look, two for two, okay?
You were an asshole before
and I was an asshole now.
I don't know you,
but for some reason,
I care about you,
so can you sit down
and we can talk a little bit?
- Fuck off, queer.
- Jack. Jack!
- Sorry.
Stop it.
Come on, asshole.
Mom hates that.
Rusty, come on.
C'mere. C'mere.
Shhh... c'mere.
What the fuck
is wrong with you?!
You hurt him!
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
No, no, no, no. No!
Stop, stop, stop! Stop!
Stop, stop!
Please stop, stop, stop, stop!
No, no, no, no, no!!!
- Whew!
- You scared me.
- Oh, you scared me.
Ha... what are you doing up?
- I wanted a glass of water.
What are you doing up?
- I was hungry.
Sweet dreams, good boy.
- 'Night, mom.
- There he is.
There's my boy.
My good little guy.
Jack out of the box!
See? You're smiling now.
It's not so bad to smile, is it?
Once in awhile?
Here's baby Jack,
and here's baby Andy!
Ah, my two little monsters.
My good little monsters, huh?
Oh, man,
you are gonna fight and scream
and give mommy and daddy
such a headache,
but we're gonna love you.
Yes, we are.
We're gonna love you forever.
- I don't wanna!
- Jack? What's wrong?
Come on, now.
Come on, Jack. Please!
Stop crying!
Oh... oh...
- What the fuck? Fuck.
What the fuck?
Um, what...
Would you be?
What would you be?
Dad's social security.
Social security.
Dad's birthday?
Dad's birthday...
Um... okay.
My birthday.
Ah... come on, Jack.
Come on, Jack.
Jack. Jack.
A... 2.
C... 2.
: Jack?
Jack, are you okay up there?
Jack, I just want to know
you're okay.
- And you don't...
Remember any of this?
Your mom and dad
never said anything?
- No. Your mom never said
anything to you?
- No. No, of course not.
I... you...
I would've said something.
- There's something else.
- What?
- With the briefcase.
There was...
There's a videotape and, uh...
- Tell me.
- It was my mom... my dad...
Me as a baby...
and my twin brother.
- But you don't...
Have a brother.
- I did on the tape.
- Isn't that what you were...
Gonna name your kid?
- Not anymore.
- Jack.
Jack, my boy,
I hope you can hear me.
You need to know I never
wanted this hurt for you.
I... don't know
when you'll hear this.
Maybe never.
But if you are hearing it...
it probably means
I'm already gone.
You'll be a man soon.
And a man
needs to know the truth.
And the truth is...
I'm sorry.
Endlessly sorry.
I've failed you.
I've failed to protect you.
My own baby boy.
My own flesh and blood.
The devil is in you now.
- It's not real. It isn't real.
It's not real. It's not real.
It's not real. It's not real.
It's not real.
- You having a bad dream, baby?
- What are you doing here?
- I thought
we could have a little cuddle.
Like we used to. With Andy.
What are you doing?!
Oh! Ow!
What are you doing?!
You open the door,
you fucking sonofabitch!!
You filthy sonofabitch!!
- Go away! Go away! Ah!!!
Jack is not at his phone,
so please leave a message
after the tone.
- Shit.
- Jack is not at his...
- Hey, um...
It's me.
I was just, uh...
I don't know, whatever, just...
Just call me back, okay?
- Hey.
You're shaking. What's wrong?
- Nothing. I just...
- You worry too much about him.
Jack will be fine.
- Look, I know he's a hard-ass
and he's been a dick to you,
but trust me, he breaks.
When I came out,
he was there, when...
When my mom died, he was there.
He's always there.
Now, I have to be...
- shhh.
- Something really bad...
Is happening.
- So when's your boyfriend
get back?
- Six days.
- Nice.
- Hey, you okay?
You don't seem okay.
- I'm fine.
- Definition of not being fine
when someone says, "I'm fine."
- Said I'm fine and I meant it.
- Oh, yeah?
What about all that screaming
I heard last night, huh?
You know I'm your neighbor.
It's kinda hard to bullshit me.
Okay, just stop.
Let the dog go for a second
and just talk to me.
- You don't... know me.
- Is that a question
or a statement?
- Neither.
Pretending that I'm talking
to myself,
'cause that's the only way
I can accept the words
I want to say out loud.
- Okay.
I'm Jack.
Now, say whatever Jack
wants to say to Jack.
I'm... Jack.
Tell me what you think of Jack.
- I hate you, Jack.
I hate your family, Jack.
Your lying mother.
Your bastard father.
It's pathetic.
The only thing
that could open your eyes
was the death of everything
you trusted and believed in.
Your whole world.
A world that would be better off
without you in it.
I have to go.
Where's my...? Rusty?!
- Hey, whatever's going on,
you mustn't say
things like that.
- Where the hell have you been?
Jack? It's 1:00
in the fucking morning.
- What do you care?
- What do I care?
I care about the broken windows.
What the hell did you do?
What did you do?
Jack, I'm talking to you!
What did you do about...
- what did I do?
What did you do?
What did you do?
You... you don't remember?
You don't remember
slapping dad around?
You don't remember
pushing him around?
How does that feel?
Does that feel good?
Does that feel good to you?
'Cause that doesn't feel good
to me.
Because I'm a good person.
I'm a good person,
you fucking idiot.
Getting into bed with me -
what the fuck is wrong with you?
- What are you talking about?
- I have to go call my fiance
and check on my baby.
That's right, mom.
I'm having a child.
Can't wait to fuck him up
like you fucked me up.
- Oh, my...
- Hi.
- Hello.
- You okay? You seem upset.
- Uh, I'm... I'm... I'm fine.
I'm fucking great, actually.
- So how is everything?
- You told me to call you
as soon as possible.
Now you're gonna ask me
about the fucking weather.
- I'm sorry.
Is this actually Jack Thurlow?
Because the Jack Thurlow I know
would never speak to me
that way.
- I'm sorry.
Really, I am.
You look upset. What's wrong?
Did she die?
- Who?
- Your grandmother.
Is our baby dead?
Our baby's dead.
- I went
to the doctor's appointment,
just a routine checkup,
and everything was normal,
and they don't know
what happened!
They don't know anything!
Just... something went wrong
and... oh!!
I'm so sorry, Jack.
I'm so sorry.
It just hurts so bad
and I need you! I need you!
I'm so sorry.
- Our baby's dead.
Sit down.
Tell me what this means.
- Did you read all of it?
The whole report?
- Yes.
- Then you already know.
There's nothing more I can add,
even if you hold a knife
to my throat.
- Don't...
- Go for it.
- Tell me! Tell me who this is.
Is it...? That's... that's me.
- Your father and I were always
at the university, teaching.
Not less than four nights
a week.
Our neighbor
had a 19-year-old son.
He needed money,
so he became your babysitter.
After a... a few months,
we noticed
that you were vomiting
almost every morning
after he had looked after you.
He finally admitted to us
that he and his father...
had been touching you.
So we went to the police.
There was a... a trial,
and they were punished.
It's as simple as that.
- How did I tell you?
- One morning, you threw up,
and daddy asked you
what was wrong and you s...
You said he had put his peepee
in your mouth.
That was all we needed to hear.
And the therapist said
that after two years,
it was a miracle that you had
forgotten everything,
so we decided
that that was best.
- What about Andy?
- Andy.
Andy's not in here.
How did you find out about him?
- Doesn't matter.
Answer the question.
- Andy is your brother...
And he was born with you.
He was your twin.
And he got an infection
and he died.
- Bullshit.
Tell me!
- Okay.
You cried... so much.
You cried and you cried
and you cried and you cried
and you cried... and... Andy...
was so full of smiles.
He was so happy
- get... get to the point.
- No.
There is no point.
I'm gonna go lie down.
- Don't make me kill my mother.
- That night,
your father must have had
some kind of breakdown.
He went from some kind a high
to a low.
He couldn't take
your screaming anymore.
Neither of us could.
I... woke up and I heard
the water running in the bathtub
and that is all I know.
I saw the lights out
in your room.
I stumbled to the tub
and I saw your father
holding my baby under the tap.
And I said to him: "Why?"
And he smiled...
And he said,
"Jack won't cry anymore.
Now we can sleep."
But I knew it was Andy
in that water.
It was not you.
And he knew it too,
because 10 seconds later,
you started to cry again.
It was supposed to be you, Jack!
It was supposed to be you!
It was not supposed to be Andy!
It was supposed to be you!!
It was your father.
And I have a question for you.
Why, after all the things
I sheltered you from,
have I become the devil
and he's god?
- Hey!
You okay?
- No.
She's lying.
She's lying!
She wants to make me insane.
I'm not.
She wants to make me insane.
I'm not insane!
He would never do that sh...
He would never do that.
She's just... she's just...
Fucking bitch.
What the...? No. No.
: Help. Help!
- I will, Jack. I will.
I'll help you, Jack.
Be a good boy.
That's it. Just breathe.
Be a good boy.
- She's back.
- No.
- Jack?
Jack, I'm coming in.
Jack! Fuck!
- Sh... She killed him.
- Here, let me just, um...
Jack, co...
- what?
Don't fucking touch him.
- Ahem...
Look, I'm just trying...
- what? What? Trying to what?
Trying to what?
Trying to what?!!
Are... you trying to help?
Are you helping?
Are-are-wh-wh... I'm sorry?
Is that what you're gonna say?
I'm sorry?
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.
I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Who...
Are you?
- I'm your best friend, Jack.
- You're my best friend!
- I'm your best friend!!!
- My best friend!
Are you gonna f-f-fix anything?
You gon...
You gonna make me laugh?
G-get me stoned?
You gonna tell me...
Fucking jokes?
I don't need help. I'm...
Fixing things.
I don't need you.
I don't need you.
Go away! Go away!
Get out! Get out!!! Get out!
Get the fuck out! Get out!
- Once upon a time,
there was a little boy,
and he went to the woods
with his mother.
They planned to pick berries
and flowers of color,
but instead
the boy picked up his brother.
His brother was shy
and so very mean
and angered himself
at all that was seen.
The angry, old brother,
he needed a friend.
"Come with me...
- Hey.
You know what you have to do.
- Mom...
I made you a drink.
- Thank you, darling.
- You wanna hear some music?
Will you dance with me?
- Hello.
You must be Jack.
- Yes, I... I must be.
- I'm Linda Fletcher.
I live four houses down that way
and I just...
- what do... what do you want?
- Well, I-i just wanted to say
I'm so sorry about the accident
and that I couldn't be here
for the funeral.
I had planned to be,
but my daughter just had
her first child in Phoenix,
so I just got back...
- congratulations to her.
And to you, being a grandmother.
Wish you luck and lots of it.
Are those flowers for us?
Is that why you're here?
- Yes. I just wanted to send
my sympathies.
I can't imagine
what you must be going through.
- Sunflowers.
That's my mom's favorite.
- Yes, I know.
- I'll be sure she gets them.
Is there anything else?
- Um... no.
Just, um...
let me know
if there's anything
I can do to help.
- Will do.
Thank you and good night, Linda.
Don't worry. Be there soon.
We're here.
You see that, mom?
See... the tire tracks
at the edge of the cement there?
Even through the rain,
there they'll be.
Even through the snow,
there they'll stay.
That wind will become rain.
That rain will become snow.
That snow will become ice
and that ice will melt back
to the sky.
You belong here.
So do I.
- Yes... just take us home...
- We are home.
- Ah! Ow!
Ugh! Ah!
Please! Ah!
No! No! No! Stop!
Help!!! No!!!
Oh, my god!
Why are you smiling?
Don't smile!
- Wh-what-what are you doing?
- What are you doing, Jack?
- He had to go.
So... so did she.
So do I.
- You're right.
He did have to go.
And so did she.
Open your eyes, Jack.
Where is she?
The accident?
They both died.
First I didn't realize
why you just kept talking
about your dad.
But then I realized.
You couldn't let them both go
at once.
Please put the knife...
Put the knife down.
We're here.
- I'm sorry.
- For what?
- Everything.
- You can say it.
You can hear it.
I'm sorry.
What is that?
- Mom.
Can you hear?
I have to go inside now.
I don't want
to keep her waiting.
- Jack!
- Sweet dreams, good boy.