All language subtitles for United States of Al s02e04 Panic, Tars.eng

Ooh, Hazel, this is nice.

Nah, too flashy.

What does that mean,
"too flashy"?

It's simple.

Monday is the first day
of junior high.

All the other kids are gonna be

trying to get noticed
right away,

which I think we can agree is
a fatal mistake.

I'm just gonna let
the grunts fight it out,

while I wait on a hill with
binoculars and a cup of coffee.

She is going to take over
the world.

It's my retirement plan.

Fine, I'll get
the flashy backpack.

I think it's nice.

Community college is
gonna eat you alive.

It's very hot in here.

Really? Feels fine to me.

I-I think I maybe need to go
outside, get some air.

You okay?

Yes, yes.

It's just the lights.

They're doing a thing--

brighter, less bright,

brighter, less bright...What's going on?

Whoa, buddy. Hey.
Uncle Al!

Come on,
talk to me, pal.

Come on, pal. Talk to me.

Al, talk to me.

What happened?

You passed out. Honey,
go get him a Gatorade.

On it.
Come here.

Yeah, your heart's
really racing.

Maybe I shouldn't get
the flashy backpack.

[chuckles] Okay.
All right.

♪

♪ Oh!

They just drove up.

It's about time.

What took you so long?

Uncle Al passed out.

The paramedics came
and everything.

What?
You okay?

It is not a big deal.

I probably just had
too much garlic.

Garlic?

Did he hit his head?

Has this happened before?No.

I mean, once in a while
I get dizzy

and have to lay
my bare belly down

on cool cement
or someone's lawn.

How many times?

I don't know.How many?

A few.
How many?

Five.

That's a lot.Three.

So, your lab work looks fine.

Your blood pressure
and EKG are normal.

There's nothing
physically wrong with you.

Great, sorry to bother you.

Well, hold on.

Your passing out concerns me.

Are you under any stress?

No.

Sure you are.

I'm sure I'm not.

The thing you need to know is

that anxiety can cause
fainting spells.

Once again,
I do not have anxiety.

I have a roof over my head
and food to eat.

Is it possible
that I am suffering

from a garlic overdose?

No.

Mm, you don't sound sure.

Mr. Karimi, do you have
a history of panic attacks?

I have been attacked many times
and I've never panicked, so no.

So just the five events
you described to the nurse.

[chuckles] Tho-Those were
not panic attacks.

And I thought we were
just chatting.

Mental health is not
my specialty,

but I can refer you
to a colleague.

No, no, no, no.
I-I'm not crazy.

No one is saying you are.AL: Good.

It was lovely meeting you.

Well, at least let me prescribe
a mild sedative

to help take the edge off.

No, thank you. The edge is
what keeps me alive.

[sighs]

Can I have that prescription?

Why?

He's my roommate.

I'm not crazy.

I don't think you are.

Thank you.

You do spread it, though.

In the village
where I was born,

if someone went crazy,

people thought
he was full of demons,

and they would chain him
to the wall of a shrine.

Okay. Well, it's not
like that here.

Our crazy people
get reality shows.

And what would people think
if I saw a psychologist?

No one will allow me
to marry their daughter.

Look, man, I get it.
All right?

I spent years refusing
to see a psychologist.

But I go because
it's supposed to help,

and he lets me smoke cigars.

And there are plenty of other
reasons I could be fainting.

I could have brain cancer,
blood cancer, thyroid cancer.

Have you been googling
"cancers that cause fainting"?

Doesn't make it not true.

Okay.

For my elective, I'm thinking
either band or drama.

With band you get to wear
a uniform and march.

Ooh, I like both of those.

When I was your age,
I took drama.

Loved it.

I was in one play
where I had to make out

with a guy on stage.

Okay, band it is.

ART:
Oh, hey, Al, what do you think?

Should Hazel take band or drama?

She should become a doctor.

It's an elective.
She's got to pick one.

What's an elective?

They're not your main classes.

They're just things you take
for fun.

We don't take nonsense classes
in Afghanistan.

We study things
that are important.

They are important.

That's how you discover
your passion,

by trying different things,

like photography
or learning to dance.

You're just proving my point.

I think I'm gonna stick
with band.

Maybe snare drum
or cymbals.

Just make me one promise.

Practice at your mom's house.

I get that.

So...

I spent some time reflecting,

getting my affairs
in order.

What are you talking about?

What did the doctor say?He's a quack.

According to the Internet,
I have a brain tumor.

You don't have a brain tumor.

Did you go to medical school?

Did your phone?

I wrote you each
a personal letter,

but I would prefer
that you not open them

until I am gone.

"I scratched the left
rear bumper on your truck.

Please forgive me."
That was you?

Yes, it's important
that I go to the afterlife

as unburdened as possible.

You blamed it on Lizzie.

"I told Riley you scratched
the left rear bumper

on his truck,
please forgive me."

Yes. This is why I asked you
not to read them now.

Mine just has six bucks in it.

Yes, Mr. Art.

I took an extra long lunch break
last week.

I had planned to make it up,

but who knows
if I will have the time.

Well, all right.

You know what's wrong with you.
You just don't like it.

There is no such thing
as a panic attack.

Panic is an emotion.
No one has a happiness attack.

I just got six bucks.
I'm having one right now.

Panic attacks are real.

It's your body reacting

to the stress
your mind is going through.

My mind is not stressed.

If stress makes you pass out,

all of Afghanistan would be
in a coma.

[sighs]

Unbelievable.

He'd rather be dying
of make-believe cancer

than see a therapist.

Remind you of anyone?

Not really.

His head was in your mother's
birth canal for a long time.

[exhales sharply]

[grunting softly]

What?

Nothing.

You're looking at me like
you want to say something.

No, I'm not.

Fine.

Hey, Riley.

What?

You're in therapy, right?

Is it like the movies?

Do you lie on a couch?

Do you, do you get hypnotized?

No, you sit in a chair.

And I don't think
I've been hypnotized,

but maybe I was
and don't know it.

S-So, what actually happens?

[sighs]

Well, the guy just
asks questions.

And he sits there
waiting for me to answer.

What kinds of questions?

He wants to know
how I feel about stuff.

And what do you tell him?

The truth. I have no idea.

Back home,

if something is
weighing on you... Hmm.

...you pour your heart out to
a close friend or family member.

Then,

there's the expectation

that they would share
their secrets with you.

We even have a word for it.

Is it "blackmail?"

No, it's "hamraaz,"

which means somebody that
you trust and they trust you.

Well, you can do that with me.

Let's hamraazright now.

It's not a verb.

Okay, well, how do I do it?

Tell me something
you never told anyone.

Okay, I know that you've
been using my shampoo.

No, something meaningful
about you.

Oh, come on.

Don't make me use
your conditioner.

[sighs]

All right.
Okay.

You know those
airline commercials

where families are reunited

after being apart
for a long time?

Yes.

I always have to
leave the room.

Why?

I don't know.

I get a little teary-eyed.

I assumed you were going to pee.

Sometimes I do both.

Riley, I...

I had no idea
you were so sensitive.

Forget it.
Hamraazis over.

Riley,

um...

have you ever seen
that battery commercial

where the soldier records
a message inside a teddy bear

for his little girl back home?

No.

[voice breaking]:
And it sounds dumb.

You going to cry?

I'm going to pee!

What are you doing up
so late?

Couldn't sleep.

Mm. Me, neither.

I had a bad dream.

My teeth were made
of Captain Crunch,

and they would break
each time I chewed.

How about you?

I keep thinking
about Afghanistan.

I really wish I'd asked you

before I told you
my stupid dream.

Why now, Lizzie?

My whole life has been
full of chaos.

Why would I be having these
so-called panic attacks now?

Maybe 'cause
you're safe enough now

to deal with
what you went through.

Hmm.

Do you ever...

you know, talk about what it was
like living under the Taliban?

Not really.

But I think about it
all the time.

Once, um...
[clears throat]

...when I was very young,

I was playing soccer outside
during prayer time,

and a group of Taliban
arrived, and...

...they started beating me
and my friends.

One of them hit me with the butt
of his Kalashnikov.

He broke four of my fingers.

Oh, my God.

My friend Kamal got it worse.

They beat him so bad...

we had to carry him home
to his parents.

After that,
his family fled to Iran.

I spent six years
with the Marines

so that my nieces and nephews
would not have to live

in that kind of violence.

But now...

[breathing shakily]

Hey, hey.

Okay.

Um, deep breath.[hyperventilating]

[takes deep breath]
Hold it.

Slow out.
Slow it down. [exhales slowly]

[gasping]

[exhales]

I'm okay. I'm okay.

[gasps softly]

Any time you want to talk,
I'm here.

Would you mind
if I had some privacy?

I want to lay my bare
belly on the cement.

[whoops] Not bad.

Thought about playing basketball
in school?

I've thought about everything.

Oh, yeah?

What you gonna eat
the first day?

PB and J,
don't waste my time.

I'm thinking
the smart play is

to work on the yearbook.

You want to be
in the first 30 pages,

you got to kiss the ring.

Can I ask you something?Sure.

What are you scared of?

I'm not scared of anything.

You're going into junior high,

but you talk like
you're trying to take over

the heroin trade in Brooklyn.

Kids can be mean, Grampy.

Oh, sweetie, I know.

How would you know?

I was the mean kid.

I don't believe you.

[grunts]

[chuckles]:
Hey.

I'm counting on you
to break the cycle.

You okay?

Yeah, yes. Mm-hmm.

I was just enjoying the luxury
of my Japanese sports car.

Mind if I join you?

Sure.[door opens]

I just spoke to my mother.

She okay?

Yes.

Remember I was telling you
about my friend Kamal?

She said his family
didn't move away.

Apparently, I, um...

Apparently, I...

I saw their car explode,

and they all died.

Oh, God.

I was so sure they moved away.

[sighs]

I read somewhere that
when memories are too traumatic,

your brain can repress them.

But I remember
so many horrible things.

Why wouldn't I remember Kamal?

I don't know, maybe because
you two were close.

Look at me, Lizzie.

I'm not a big guy.

I'm not rich. I'm not the son
of some important person.

The only thing
that has allowed me to endure

these terrible years
is my brain.

And now I'm losing it.
Do you think I am losing it?

Of course not.

I may never be able
to go back home.

Am I going to forget everything?No.

My guess is we just block out
the bad stuff, you know.

Not the good stuff.

But how do we know?
How do we really know?

Either I can't trust my mother,

or I can't trust
my own thoughts.

I cannot live like this.

Al, maybe it's time
you go talk to someone.

I'm talking to you,
Lizzie, right now.

I meant a professional.[groans]

You're dealing with
some heavy stuff,

and I don't want to say
the wrong thing

or give you bad advice.

I'm so sorry
that I am burdening you

with all of this heavy stuff.

No, you're not burdening.

This is why Americans are
so sad and lonely

and need to pay people
to listen to their problems,

because you don't help
each other!

No, this is how I'm trying
to take care of you.

Well, it's not working.

[sighs]

SPORTSCASTER [on TV]:
...we're on the bottom half of the fifth inning.

Two on and nobody out.

[TV chatter continues
indistinctly]

Hello.

Hey, where you been?

Took a walk.

I see you are watching baseball.

Yep.

Nothing is happening.

That's baseball.

[sighs]

I'm listening.

I am very frustrated
with your son and daughter.

[scoffs] You familiar
with the phrase

"preaching to the choir?"

I try to have a serious
conversation with them,

and they just say,
"Go to a therapist."

What would you rather they said?

That the doctor was wrong,

that my brain is damaged,

and that is
why I'm losing my memories.

So, what are you talking
to me for?

I want to know what you think.

Because I'm the elder?

Yes.

[chuckles] I love that.

Hey, Al.

There's no harm
in trying to figure out

what makes you tick.

I-I'm sorry, tick?

All right.

Let's say, you have
this, uh, weird cousin

who's afraid of dogs.

Okay.

She goes to
this psychology guy,

and he helps her remember
that when she was a little kid,

she got bit
by the neighbors' dog.

And boom-- [clicks tongue]--
just like that,

she's not afraid of dogs
anymore.

She tells everybody.

She never stops
talking about it.

Makes you want to bite her.

It just doesn't
make sense to me.

H-How can a thought in my mind

affect my body so much
that I pass out?

I don't know, Al.

I can tell you, when...

when my wife died,
I went to see somebody.

Did it help?

Are you kidding? Look at me.

The picture of mental health.

I'm just saying
you should look into it.

Maybe read a book
before you decide.

A book will change my mind?

Moneyballchanged baseball
forever.

That's why no one swings

at pitches anymore.

Okay.

I will think about it.

Thank you.

It's what elders do.

Here comes the lightning player
from down under.

[chatter on TV continues
indistinctly]

Here's the pitch.

Still nothing happening.

Yeah, it's a good game.

Oh. I was just
looking for you.

And here I am.

What are you drawing?

Self-portrait.

Huh. Lovely.

Thanks.

Lizzie, uh...

I wanted to tell you
that I am sorry about earlier.

You were just trying to help.

Don't worry about it.

And...

I have decided
that one of my electives

in community college
will be psychology.

Really?
Yes.

I think I should
withhold judgment

on this stupid therapy thing

until I have studied it
more closely.

Good to keep an open mind.

Yes. I figure
by Thanksgiving,

I will have either disproved
psychology or mastered it.

For me,
"Introduction to Psychology"

will be a conclusion
to psychology.

A solid plan.

Hmm.

And if I do master it,

you and I should talk.

So, Hazel, how was
your first day?

Yeah, was it as scary
as you thought?

Worse.
I didn't know anybody.

Couldn't open my locker.

Didn't know where to sit
in the cafeteria.

Oh, that sucks.

But then I made a friend.

Well, there you go.

Yeah, her name's Violet.

Oh, that's a pretty name.

She's in eighth grade
for the second time.

Well, practice makes perfect.

Is she a nice person?

No idea.

But she's huge,
everyone's afraid of her.

Walking behind her
in the hallway

was like walking
behind a snowplow.

Everybody just got
out of the way.

It was awesome.

Well, I'm glad you
made a friend.

Me, too.

Oh, from now on, I have to bring
two lunches to school.

Tomorrow, we'd like turkey.

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