Northern Exposure s03e07 Episode Script

Roots

Wow.
Ow! Hey! Hey! What are you doing? Morning, Fleischman.
Morning? You almost brained me with falling plaster! That's all you can manage, is "Morning"? What would you rather- "Fore"? I hollered when I got here.
I thought you were gone.
I was in the shower.
What are you doing here? - You have dry rot.
- Don't get personal, O'Connell.
- You made coffee.
- Yeah, so? Great.
Hey, what exactly is dry rot, the architectural equivalent of trench mouth? More or less.
Wonderful.
I'm living in a cabin infested with a horrible timber disease.
Well, I just have to replace the planking, reseal and reshingle a few places.
- Well, how long is that gonna take? - A few days.
What am I supposed to do until then, suffer in silence? Since when do you do anything in silence, Fleischman? Let's be clear about something, O'Connell.
There's nothing wrong with my roof.
I don't have a roof.
Whatever's rotting up there is rotting on your roof.
- What's your point? - The point is your roof has caused my heating bill to go through the stratosphere.
And for the foreseeable future, I'm going to be sleeping in an arctic breezeway.
- I'll bring you a blanket.
- You're missing the point.
As landlord, you have a responsibility for the general welfare of your tenant, an obligation I think any reasonable man or woman would feel has been sorely violated.
I want a rebate.
In your dreams, Fleischman.
Besides, the great state of Alaska pays for your rent.
- You don't even pay a dime.
- Hey, that's exactly what it's worth.
Tell you what.
You fix whatever's wrong with my truck, and I'm willing to overlook any gross negligence on your part.
There's nothing wrong with your truck except that you flood the engine.
You should just lighten up on the gas.
I don't flood the engine, O'Connell.
I happen to have a very light foot.
Fine.
I'll give you a lift.
I'll walk.
Ooh.
A man of character.
Dreams are postcards from the subconscious- inner self to outer self, right brain trying to cross that moat to the left.
All too often, they come back unread- "Return to sender.
Address unknown.
" That's a shame, too, because there's a whole different world out there- or in here, depending on your point of view.
Indeed, for all we know, this very moment could be nothing more than vapors of our own imagination.
As Bertrand Russell mused, "I do not believe that I am now dreaming, but I cannot prove that I am not.
" The point being there's more to these nocturnal journeys than has previously been considered or accepted.
Bernard! Bernard! - Hey, Chris.
- Hey! Man, I hardly recognized you.
What happened to the leathers? - I don't need 'em.
I sold the Harley.
- Yeah? Yeah, last year.
The leather, the Harley.
- It was all part of my- - Quest! Oh, man.
- Aw, you really look good - bourgeois.
- Thanks.
Hungry? Let's eat.
So Mom says, "It's been three years since Dad died.
"Why shouldn't I remarry?" I don't have any problem with that.
Anyway, she says she wants to make a new start, wipe the slate clean.
And then she has a confession, which brings me to this.
When Dad died, he left $60,000 to his sons.
But unbeknownst to me, Mom altered the will.
She left the "s" off.
Oh, smart.
Anyway, it seems like Mom found out about Dad's other family-your family.
Didn't sit too well with her.
Don't take it personal.
She was just lashing out.
No, no.
I understand.
Anyway, of the $60,000, 30,000 of it's yours, and the 6,000 is interest.
- I can't take that, Bernard.
- Why not? 'Cause your dad left you $60,000.
My dad left me nothin'.
- He's one and the same guy.
- No, no, no.
My dad was a bum.
He was totally irresponsible.
He blew every buck he ever had.
He wouldn't have liked leaving any money behind.
That's for sure, especially to me.
Now, your dad physically was the same guy, but spiritually- a totally different animal.
- Solid, dependable.
- Upwardly mobile? Yeah.
Mortgage, credit cards, life insurance.
- Term and whole life.
- Right.
That belongs to you.
Chris, I got everything from a father a son could want- security, love, quality time.
You got nothin'.
At the very least, man, you deserve this.
Marilyn? Would you tell Encyclopedia Britannica that they can pay the postage this time? I didn't order a yearbook.
I don't want a yearbook.
I'm not gonna pay for a yearbook.
Thank you.
Hey, Marilyn- God! A little jumpy, aren't we? - Mr.
Adam's here.
- Thank you, Marilyn.
- Have we ever considered Xanax? - Look, what are you doin' here? You know, I love what you've done with the place.
Really.
Although, you know, the faux distressed look is a little bit of a cliché.
You really hit me where I live, Adam.
Would you please leave? Oh, nice.
This is how you treat a friend.
You kidnapped me.
Your wife held me in chains.
All right.
Acquaintance.
- Where is Eve anyways? - Aw, her bilirubin level's all screwed up.
She had to go to Geneva for a lamb's blood treatment.
Oh, really? What a pity.
Send her my best.
Will you please get out before I have to disinfect? God knows what exotic microbes you dragged in here.
- How much money do you have? - What? - I need $100.
- Excuse me? - What, are you deaf? Give me $100.
- I'm not giving you $100.
Oh, I suppose you have better uses for the money.
Orchestra seats to Miss Saigon maybe.
Dinner at Le Cirque after.
- What do you need it for anyway? - I don't have to- I- - My insurance premium's due.
- Oh, your insurance premium.
Now, come on.
Just give me whatever you got in your wallet.
I'm not giving you anything, understand? In case you're missing the underlying sentiment, you're not welcome.
Go.
Good-bye.
Have a nice day.
- What, Marilyn? - Elaine's here.
- Elaine who? - Your Elaine.
Hi.
Elaine.
- How are you, Joel? - I-I'm fine.
What are you doing here? Well, I guess I came to see you.
Uh, where's Duane? Your husband, the judge.
- Dwight.
- Oh.
Dwight-where's he? - He died.
- Geez.
Oh, it wasn't a total surprise.
He had a history or coronary artery disease.
Hey, uh- I- I don't know what to say.
Why don't you start by offering the lady a chair? Where were you raised, Fleischman, a barn? - Out.
- What about my money? Out! Now! I'm sorry.
He just walked into my office.
- I mean, I hardly know him.
- That's okay.
You know, Elaine, this is, uh- - A surprise.
- Yeah.
- I didn't call.
- No.
No, you didn't.
I was afraid you'd tell me not to come.
Well, I would have.
Yes, I would've said don't come.
I knew, if I thought about it, I wouldn't have the courage to do it, so I jumped in a cab, went to Kennedy, bought a ticket.
Next thing I knew, I was in Anchorage.
Now here.
I don't even have a suitcase.
- Elaine- - Look, Joel, please don't say anything.
I mean, I know how you must feel.
I do.
The way I broke it off, the "Dear Joel" letter.
"Don't get frostbite.
" I'm so sorry, Joey.
How could you write that? I mean, after all the years we were together.
We had a relationship.
We had a history, and you end it with "Don't get frostbite"? - Yeah, you're still angry.
- Yeah, and bitter, resentful, humiliated.
Elaine, why'd you come? What are you looking for? - What did you think would happen? - I don't know.
I just wanted to see you.
Oh.
You just wanted to see me.
- Maybe it was a mistake.
- There's no maybe about it.
- It was a mistake.
It was a big mistake.
- Okay.
God! I mean, what does she expect, compassion? She dumps me for a retiree who goes belly-up, and then she wants some kind of emotional refund.
What, I'm supposed to welcome her with open arms? - What is this? - I'm about as forgiving as the next guy.
By New York standards, I'm more than nice.
I send my mother flowers for her birthday.
I recycle.
I make regular contributions to worthy causes.
Is this supposed to be a- a mushroom? Certain things, however, cannot be forgiven.
The total dismemberment of my emotional well-being, the annihilation of any kind of future happiness- they safely go into the "not to be forgiven" category.
- How is everything, fellas? - This isn't a meal.
This is 20 questions.
Pray tell, shoelace? Roadkill? Color swatch? Surely, this is not a tomato.
If there's a problem- Oh, no, no, no.
There's no problem as long as you don't expect people to eat this.
Come on, Fleischman.
Get your coat.
- Huh? - I'm not payin' for this swill.
You don't have any money.
I'm paying for it.
- You think you could do better, friend? - He could do better.
It's easy to take potshots from the sidelines.
You'd be singing a different tune in the heat of the lunch-hour rush.
Oh.
I'm trembling.
Let me tell you something.
In 48 hours, I would have people lined up outside this joint, begging to get in.
You wouldn't want to put a little wager on that, would you? - $100? - I'll show you to the kitchen.
Oh, no, no, no.
No, that won't be necessary.
I'll just follow the stench.
Friend of yours? Nice job, Fleischman.
A woman comes to you in grief, and you slam the door in her face? Please, O'Connell.
She's in my truck right now, sobbing her eyes out.
Wait a minute.
I think you're confusing the injured parties here.
I'm not the one who broke off a 20-year relationship through the auspices of the U.
S.
Mail.
I'm the one who got kicked in the teeth, stabbed in the back, left in the lurch.
- Pick your metaphor.
I'm it.
- Grow up, Fleischman.
- Grow up? - Yes.
For once in your life, can't you think of something else besides your own selfish concerns? No.
Frankly, I can't.
This may come as a surprise to you, but men have feelings too, and mine have been mutilated currently overflowing in your truck.
Man, talk about selfish.
She did exactly what she wanted.
She bet on a geriatric horse that fell down in the first turn.
Well- I can sympathize with such an unfortunate, albeit predictable, course of events, but that's just about as far as I plan to extend myself.
Let me ask you a question.
What did she say she wanted? - It's pretty obvious, don't you think? - Enlighten me.
- She wants me back.
- You would think a thing like that.
- What is that supposed to mean? - Did she say she wanted you back? - What did she say? - She said she wanted to see me.
Right, 'cause you're her friend.
You're her dearest friend, her closest friend in the whole world, and she's suffered an appalling tragedy.
And in her despair, in her darkest hour of life, she comes to you.
Knowing how much resistance she's going to meet, knowing that in all likelihood she's going to have to bear the brunt of your suppressed rage, still she comes to see you, Joel Fleischman.
That's how important you are to her.
She's reaching out, Fleischman, for a familiar shoulder, for compassion.
Just let her know she still has a friend.
Be a "mansch.
" I believe the word you're looking for is "mensch.
" Whatever.
Be one.
- Mustard? - French's.
Ah.
The only mustard for dogs.
- Do you have any- - Sauerkraut? Bernard, you ever been to Africa? - Nope.
You? - Nah.
Why do you ask? Well, I've been having these really strange dreams lately.
Africa, dancers, drums.
- It's just so real, so- - Vivid? - Yeah.
You been havin' them too? - Nope.
Hmm.
I don't dream much anymore.
- No dreams? - Well, sometimes I dream, but they're so mundane, so pallid.
Like mailing a letter, mowing the lawn, picking up my suit from the dry cleaners.
And I used to have really vivid dreams.
I mean, dreams van Gogh would envy.
Lush, florid, stirring dreams.
Not anymore.
- Man, I wonder why.
- I don't know.
Something's missing.
It's like- My brain has been stripped clean, you know, denuded.
Like the rain forest in my psyche has been sprayed with defoliant.
- Wow.
- Yeah.
Hey, Bernard, you ever tried eatin', like, a really big spicy meal right before bedtime? I mean, I find when my stomach's upset, my dreams are more intense.
Maybe a couple more of these will help.
Look, Joel, if you’re just doing this because you think you have to, please don't.
I can find somewhere else to stay.
Well, to be absolutely honest, Elaine- Yeah, I do.
I want you to stay.
- You mean that? - He does.
As a matter of fact, I told him that you could stay with me, Elaine, but Joel insisted.
- He did? - He did.
Boy, you changed your mind awfully fast.
It didn't take him long to realize how wrong he'd been, and I'm sure he's sorry for all those mean things that he said.
And I know he wants to apologize.
Don't you want to apologize? - Apologize.
- Yes, I am.
I'm sorry.
See? Well, if you really feel that way.
He does.
- I do.
- Okay.
Elaine? Elaine.
Elaine.
- Elaine? - No, please don't.
- What? - I forgot my toothbrush.
Well, didn't you think to buy one at the airport? All right.
I suppose I can go out and get you one.
- You have no truck.
- Oh.
Right.
- Do you have any mouthwash? - No, I don't.
I'll be okay.
I'll, uh, rinse my mouth out with saltwater.
- Can I use that glass? - Yeah, sure.
- Thanks.
- No problem.
- Where's the salt? - It's in the kitchen.
I'll go get it.
Hey, this is silly.
Look, Elaine, why don't you just use my toothbrush? - No.
- Really, I don't mind.
- Yes, you do.
- No, I don't.
- Yes, you do.
- Why would I mind? A toothbrush is a very personal thing.
If you didn't mind, you would have offered right away.
No.
I just wasn't thinking.
Here, take it.
- I don't want it.
Elaine, it's just a toothbrush.
You don't want me to use it.
Yes, I do.
I'm begging you.
Please.
Please, use my toothbrush.
Joel? Yeah? Thanks for letting me stay.
That's okay.
I'm sorry about everything.
What was it about him? Did he remind you of Milt? My dad? No.
That wasn't it.
Then what was it? I was in love.
I can't explain it.
It just happened.
Joey? What? There's a part of me that's glad I fell in love with Dwight.
But there's another part of me that wishes I never did.
Good night, Elaine.
Good night.
- Hey, Chris.
- Bernard.
You bet.
Cool.
- Bernard.
Bernard, wake up.
- Hmm? What? - I figured it all out.
- You did? What? Africa, the dream, the dancers - I know what it all means.
- It's all so clear.
- Great.
And you-you.
The money- that was the final piece of the picture.
- What money? - Dad's money.
Your money.
Our money.
Yeah? I know what the dream is telling me to do.
- I have to go to Africa.
- Africa? Really? - And it's all thanks to you.
- Wow.
Kesho, Brother.
Kesho.
What does kesho mean? I don't know.
Joel? Joel.
- Elaine? - It's freezing in there.
Have you got an extra blanket or something? - Wow.
Your lips are purple.
- Yeah? Yeah.
Come on in.
Oh, thanks.
Thanks.
Let's just get a little more sleep though, okay? Yeah.
- I remember these sheets.
- Yeah? I was at Macy's with your mom when she bought them, when you finished medical school.
They're gray.
They used to be lavender.
- What did you wash them with? - Everything.
Oh, go ahead, laugh- the woman who used oven cleaner on the microwave.
Well, that made sense at the time.
You ruined it.
The whole inside melted.
That horrible smell.
You-You were screaming, "Joel, Joel! The microwave! Call 911!" Good morning.
- Ever hear of knocking, O'Connell? - W- Well, I- Bye.
We got a grungy new guy in the kitchen.
He made this "cocoa vin" stuff.
It's really neat, but there's no chocolate in here.
It's chicken.
What would you think if you walked into a room and found two people in bed together? - A boy and a girl? - I know what I would think.
I know what most people would think.
But we shouldn't jump to the first conclusion.
There are lots of obvious reasons besides sex why two people would be in bed together.
- Like what? - I don't know.
Like- Like-Well, any number of things.
None of which, of course, explain why Elaine and Fleischman were in bed together.
Elaine was in the sack with Dr.
Fleischman? But that doesn't mean she came up here with the intent to do that, you know, Shelly.
- It doesn't? - No.
She came here to talk.
- You know, talk to a friend.
- Oh.
If you're thinking, "Why didn't she just phone?" Well, we have to remember that Elaine and Fleischman had a very personal relationship at one time, you know - very personal.
And there are just some times when you need to talk to a person in person.
I agree.
Why? Do you think Elaine came up here just to have sex with Fleischman? It's the first thing I'd wanna do.
Well, not with Dr.
Fleischman, but, if I was still hung up on a guy, really wanted to get back together with him, yeah, I'd try to jump his bones.
Well, that's ridiculous.
That's absurd.
I mean, huh, Elaine is still reeling from the unexpected death of her freshly dead husband.
I mean, getting back together with Fleischman would be the furthest thing from her mind.
Well, and even if deep down, on some instinctive level, there were an awakening of a desire to get back together, trust me, Fleischman doesn't have the slightest interest.
- Oh.
- Order up! Jambo, Cicely! This is Chris in the Morning, comin' at you one last time.
It is with a heavy but hungry heart that I must bid you farewell as needs I must respond to the mysterious ways of the heart and mind.
My brother's arrival has been an epiphany for me, a- a karmic trip wire igniting a deeper awareness of my connection to the planet.
My brother also brings with him the financial means for me to explore my newfound identity.
For those of you unfamiliar with the latest chapter in the Stevens saga, I've inherited half of my father's $60,000 bequest to his sons, which has been marking time at, uh- Uh, Bernard, where has that money been spending its summers? The First Bank of Portland- a tax-free money market account, currently at five and a half percent.
Whoo! Not bad.
Well, that's it, Cicely.
My heart beats to the African drum.
My blood flows with the river Niger.
From this day forward, Christopher Stevens formally declares himself to be a person of color.
Kesho.
- Hi, Marilyn.
- Hi.
- Hey, Fleischman.
You free? - Yeah, sure.
- What's the problem? - My wrist.
- You hurt it? - Yeah.
- How, on the roof? - Uh-huh, exactly.
On the roof.
- Take a seat.
Which wrist is it? - It's this one.
What, you go a little overboard on the hammering? - Ow.
Uh, what? - Hammering? On the roof? Yes, Fleischman.
How else do you think I did it? Is it a sharp or a dull pain? - Sharp.
- No swelling or knots.
Can you rotate it? Yeah.
Listen, Fleischman, um- About this morning.
Which reminds me, O'Connell.
Stay out of my house.
Make a fist.
I didn't know that you and Elaine were you know- - No, I don't.
- In the swim again.
What is that supposed to mean? Relax the fist.
Well, I think it's a pretty complete total about-face from yesterday, wouldn't you say? - You're talking about Elaine? - Yes, I'm talking about Elaine.
I just think it's unbelievably inconsiderate of you to be leading her on like this.
Yesterday I'm a coldhearted brute.
Now I'm a callow rogue.
Why, all of a sudden, the sudden interest in my personal life, O'Connell? It's not an interest in your personal life.
It's an interest in Elaine.
I know, to you, that this is just a mercy date.
But to Elaine, as a woman, I can tell you that she sees it a lot differently - a lot.
Elaine is no mercy date.
She's my ex-fiancée, the person I've known longer than anyone else in my life, with the possible exception of my parents.
She also happens to be a very attractive, intelligent woman with a lot to offer.
And while I can see that she's guilty of a serious lapse of judgment, I don't think the court should pass sentence without reviewing the entire record.
Actually, I'm surprised that my, uh - my, uh, affections haven't been alienated to the degree originally suspected.
I should really thank you for that.
I don't know if I would have come to that realization, without your little exercise in shuttle diplomacy.
Hey, this wrist thing isn't gonna delay my roof work, is it? What? I mean, you can still use the other hand, can't you? Oh, perfect, Fleischman! Perfect! I'm in agony, and all you can think about is yourself.
Hey, you're not the one sleeping in a walk-in freezer, O'Connell.
Well, you seem to have found the cure for that, haven't you? You just rub the two bodies together.
- You don't want me to wrap it? - Tie a rope around it, Fleischman.
Holling, this pumpkin tortellini is out of this world.
Well, thanks.
Who's the new chef? An out-of-towner, Ruth-Anne.
I'll tell him you liked it.
Oh, please do.
Holling.
He may not wear shoes, but he sure can pack ' em in, huh, babe? Excuse me.
I just gotta tell you, sir.
This is the best veal ragout I've ever tasted.
Uh-huh.
You the one going to Africa? This warm duck salad- it's incredible.
- There's something in here- - Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
It's fennel, all right? Answer the question.
- No.
- Yes.
He's the one going to Africa.
I'm the one goin' to Africa.
Which part? Um.
North? South? East? West? What, you want a map? Well, to be honest, I hadn't thought about that specifically.
- East.
- All right.
When you get to Mombasa, do yourself a favor.
Check out Utari's for the only true interpretation of the Portuguese influence on African cuisine.
Taught me everything I know about manioc.
Write it down! Utari's.
How about Dar es Salaam? Main port of Tanzania.
Founded in 1866 by the sultan of Zanzibar.
Dar es Salaam.
That's a whole other story.
When you get to the Indian Ocean, you make a left.
Now, forget what the Michelin says about that-that dump Morolo's.
Butchers and thieves.
You check out a little brasserie on Front Street called Louie's.
Trust me.
Kesho.
This is unbelievable, Joel.
I mean, here we are in Cicely, Alaska, in the middle of nowhere- Oh, I just mean that we're not near a big city.
Hey, no need to apologize.
Believe me, this is beyond the middle of nowhere.
This is the end of nowhere.
Well, anyway, here we are, and I have just had the most incredible meal of my entire life.
No.
Not better than the Five Flavors Café? No contest, although their chef does wear shoes.
- It's nice to be able to do this again.
- What? - Talk.
You and me.
- Yeah.
- So, how are your folks? - Um, they're good.
- Good.
- Yours? - Fine.
- Good.
They've been really great through all of this, especially Mom.
See, that's good.
That's nice.
- Hi, you guys.
- Maggie.
Hi, O'Connell.
What's up? So? So.
- Would you like to sit down? - Oh, okay.
Thanks.
So, can you believe this food? It's fabulous.
I had the lamb stew.
Well, I mean, I've had lamb stew before.
I guess we all have plenty of times, but this lamb stew- From now on, when I think lamb stew- Elaine, would you like to go to the dump with me? The bears are putting on this circus lately.
Well, it seems like a circus.
- Well- - Come on.
It's a whole Kodiak family.
There are two cubs, the mom and the dad.
They throw the trash back and forth.
It's really a riot.
Come on, Elaine.
It's the chance of a lifetime.
Who knows when you'll be back, if ever? Well, actually, I'm kind of tired.
- Tired.
- Yeah, um, me too.
- Oh, you're both- - Tired.
Well, then, uh- What do you say? - Shall we? - Yeah.
Oh.
Excuse me.
Good night, O'Connell.
Have fun at the dump.
- Good night, Maggie.
- Good night.
So, I guess it's been a long day for you.
- You must be pretty tired.
- Uh, no, not that tired.
- I thought you were tired.
- Yeah, I am.
Or I was.
I don't know.
I must have gotten a second wind.
After a meal like that, you really want a- - A nightcap? - Yeah.
- Yeah.
Would you like a nightcap? - Yeah.
If you'd like one.
- I would.
- Me too.
- What would you like? - What do you have? Hmm.
Let's see.
I should have a couple bottles of- - Let's see.
Brandy or brandy? - That's fine.
- You hate brandy, Elaine.
- Well, not all the time.
Okay.
Hold on.
Ah.
This is from that pair that you gave me.
You know? When I got an "A" in histology.
Unfortunately, one of them got cracked or lost or something.
I mean, uh, well- So, uh, here's- Come again? - Bernard! It's you.
- This is highly unusual.
- You're a king! - Yeah, it appears that way, huh? What are you doin' in my dream? Chris, I don't want to appropriate your unconscious, but I think, uh, this is supposed to be my dream.
- Come again? - Well, I think you've been having my dreams.
- Hey.
- Hi.
Oh-ho-ho.
There you go.
That is a fresh Virgin Mary, princess.
Drink it, go home, throw up.
You'll feel better.
Don't start with me.
- What? - You sigh.
I say, "Something wrong?" You tell me.
And then I help you sort through your feelings, right? - Well, forget it.
- What makes you think I'd want your advice? Because I'm standing behind a bar, and you automatically assume that that means I'm interested in your problems.
- Well, I'm not.
- No problem, pal.
- It's only natural to be jealous.
- Jealous? Of Elaine.
I mean, she possesses everything that you lack- emotional bravery, real courage.
Elaine is attempting to satisfy her emotional needs while you fly from yours in the hopes that they will just disappear.
But they never do, do they? - What? - Elaine is open.
You are wary.
Elaine embraces her fears.
You deny them.
Mm.
Elaine gives and takes love with abandon, while the mere thought of intimacy turns you into an Eskimo Pie.
If I wanted analysis, I'd go to a shrink.
Oh, that's good.
Great.
Get defensive.
I am not defensive! Excuse me? A little something we picked up from Daddy? The youngest C.
E.
O.
In automotive history? Give me a break.
If Detroit could come up with a competitive product, - there wouldn't be any deficit.
- Leave my father out of it.
And what do you know about him or me or anything anyway? Yeah, little Mary-Margaret learned early, didn't she? Never let down your guard, never expose your flank, and never, ever show your true heart.
Look, buddy, I'd put my emotional health up against anyone's.
Trust me on this.
Nobody around here is more screwed up than you.
That's it.
I'm outta here.
- Except Fleischman.
- Fleischman? What, do I have to repeat everything I say? - What about Fleischman? - He's insecurity incarnate.
The man is riddled with fears- from abandonment to failure to sexual inadequacy.
He's an emotional car wreck.
Are we talking about the same Fleischman? Because the Fleischman I know is arrogant, self-centered, egotistical and a walking smirk.
Haven't you ever heard of the compensatory facade? Huh? I gotta give you some of my articles.
Compensatory facade? He will go back to New York, where he will drive himself ruthlessly to the top in a desperate but doomed attempt to outpace his own demons.
Now, in the process and along the way, he will lose everything that ever had any meaning for him.
And, in the end, he will be alone, miserable and very, very rich.
- Poor Fleischman.
- Yes.
You, on the other hand, will be surrounded by cats- lots and lots of cats- in a drafty old house which you've remodeled all by yourself, where you will eat, breathe and sleep every day and every night by yourself- except for the cats.
- Joey? - Hi.
Morning.
- You couldn't sleep? - Nah, just looking.
- Everything okay? - Yeah.
Everything's terrific.
And last night- Last night- - Last night was great.
- Great? It was better than great.
"Great" is inadequate to describe what happened last night.
- It was fantastic.
- Extraordinary.
- Sex was never like that for us before.
- Never.
- It's over between us, isn't it? - Yeah.
I don't get it.
How come? I don't know.
Maybe because of time.
Maybe because we're different people, Elaine.
I- I mean, you're a widow.
I'm a hostage in Alaska.
We just-We aren't in love with each other anymore.
Are we? No, we're not.
And that's probably why the sex was so great.
Yeah.
Coming up here, Elaine- that was brave.
- Yeah? - Oh, yeah.
I mean, to get on a plane and face me cold- Oh.
I couldn't have done it.
- It didn't work, did it? - Yeah, it did.
It gave us back our past.
You're so much a part of my life.
You're woven into the whole fabric.
I can't think about my life without thinking about you.
And I couldn't think about my life because I was so hurt and - and mad at you.
But now I got my life back.
So, what do we do now? I don't know.
Our psychic lives must have got crossed up like telephone wires or something.
Yeah, but if you were having my dreams, how come I wasn't having your dreams? I don't know.
The unconscious is- is weird.
It's hard to understand.
Maybe my brain stem was so preoccupied with your dreams, I couldn't produce any fresh product.
Ha! Not enough norepinephrine to go around, huh? Exactly.
- It's interesting.
- Yeah.
- You know what this means, right? - What? - One of us is goin' to Africa.
- Yeah, you.
Boop.
Me? - You think? - It's your dream.
Africa? I mean, Chris, I've always been pretty much of a homebody.
I mean, I never foresaw so much travel in my future.
You okay with this? Well, I'm a little bummed out, but a man's gotta fulfill his own destiny, not somebody else's.
A man admits his faults, Adam.
- And in your case- - Give me my money.
I think we should discuss the possibility of you staying on here full-time.
In this miserable excuse for a bar? In this hellhole of a town? - Cash.
Now.
- I could make it worth your while.
You're not trying to weasel out of anything, are you, Vincoeur? I don't weasel.
$100.
You don't have to count it.
I am down the road.
Is he in? Okay, Fleischman.
I held my tongue last night, but I think it's time that you realize what's going on.
I know women, Fleischman.
As sweet and tender though she may appear, that Elaine of yours has her talons out, and you're next on the menu.
I mean, she put up a good front.
She really did.
The grieving widow.
She even had me going there for a while, but don't believe it.
Because she's after one thing and one thing only, and that's herself.
I mean, she lost the judge, and now she's on to the doctor.
It's so obvious.
She came here with her trap set, and you just fell right into it.
- She's gone.
- What? - Elaine left an hour ago.
- Oh.
Oh.
Are-Are you okay? I'm fine.
What? Thanks for asking.
Einstein said God doesn't play dice with the universe, but I don't know.
Maybe not as a whole.
I think he gets a pretty big kick out of messin' in people's backyards.
Which leads me to confirm that Chris in the Morning is staying right here at K-Bear.
It's my brother, Bernard, who's off to the Dark Continent.
Kesho, Brother.
Godspeed.