All language subtitles for Mysteries.of.Pittsburgh.2008.1080p.BluRay.H264.AAC-RARBG

This is the dream.

I find myself
standing in the lobby

of a thousand-story
grand hotel,

where a bank of elevators
a mile long

and an endless row
of attendants in gold braid

wait to carry me up, up, up.

When I reach the elevator,
everything seems possible.

I press its only button
to discover where it leads.

But I never get anywhere

because the moment
the doors shut,

that's when I wake up.

The summer of 1 983 began
with my father, the gangster,

who was in town to conduct
some of his vague business.

And the only elevator
I'd taken

was the one that brought me
a mile above the Allegheny

to his favorite restaurant.

My graduation two weeks prior
with a degree in Economics

was cause for celebration,
which, in this case,

took the form of
a mandatory steak dinner.

For the past eight months,

my father had been
followed by the FBI .

He assured me it was
nothing to worry about.

Which, of course,
was what made me worry.

Don't look at them, Son.
Look at me.

They can't do anything.

Just look at me.

That's me over there,
that's my life.

That has nothing
to do with you.

Do you understand?

Yes.

So, Art, what are you
gonna do this summer?

I don't know.

You don't know?

I'm not sure.

You're not sure
that you don't know?

Or you're just not sure?

I'm not sure, I guess.

I see.

You studying for the test?

Yes.

Well, you'll ace it.

It's regulatory, Dad.
I just have to pass.

They don't care
what your score is.

Well, you care, don't you?

You don't graduate
cum laude

and not care about
your grades.

Am I right?

Yeah.

Did you call Uncle Lenny
about the job, like I asked?

Yeah, yes.

And?

And. . .

Yeah, it' s all set,
I think.

Good. That's good.

Baltimore's a great city, Art.
You'll like it.

Yeah, yeah.

I thought about
my fat Uncle Lenny

and the job
he'd strong-armed for me

that would start in the fall.

Which meant I had exactly
three months left to live.

My father wanted me
to take an internship

at one of the firms
downtown.

But if this was to be
the last summer of my life,

I wanted
to have the least amount

of responsibility possible.

A job
whose only requirements

were continuous breathing,

the ability to stack objects
without hurting yourself

and a passing acquaintance
with the alphabet.

Fortunately,
the Book Barn was hiring.

August Van Zorn.

What? Van Zorn?

Does that go under
"V" or "Z"?

"V." It's Dutch.

Art to storage, please.
Art to storage.

I'll be right back.

- Have fun, dude.
- What?

Nothing.

Ten days
into my employment,

I got bored enough
to sleep with my boss.

Apparently,
the word had gotten out.

Fuck.

- Phlox?
- Yes.

I can't remember
how it all started.

And honestly,

I'd never done
anything like this before.

Where are you?

Come find me.

It began as a lark.
A game to play.

Something to break up
the monotony.

But it soon became
a schedule to keep.

You're getting warmer.

Another item on my list.

Have you been thinking
about me, Art?

Yes.

And as I walked through the
Book Barn basement that day,

on my way to do
what I was about to do. . .

Have you been thinking
about fucking me?

Yes.

. . . I remember feeling

a familiar sense
of obligation wash over me.

Good, I'm ready.

Phlox was three years
older than me

and my supervisor.

At this point,
we'd pretty much screwed

In Travel, in Self-Help,

and in Sports and Recreation,

which, at times,
was downright eerie.

Welcome, folks.

This is 1 87F.

Series Seven Prep.

Prep means preparation.

Taking the Series Seven exam
is a requirement for trading.

Passing it
is the first step

to becoming
a stockbroker,

which was definitely
the last step I wanted to take.

All right,
let's get started.

Hey! Art Bechstein!

I thought that was you,
man!

What the fuck
is happening, bitch?

Mohammed Abdul was
my roommate freshman year.

Jesus, Momo.
You almost killed me.

Fun, right?

And I'm pretty sure he's
never had a driver's license.

Hey, you come
with us, man.

We are going to a party.
You like it.

There's no room.

No. Bullshit, man.

You can ride on the back.

Okay. Yeah.

I knew that if I got
in the car with Momo,

there was a better-than-even
chance I'd end up in jail.

Which, if you think about it,

isn't a bad way
to start your Tuesday night.

What are those?

It's drugs, man.

Oh.

Yeah.

Enjoy this trip.

You have
a bitch stomach, man.

Come, we get some vodka
to fix your vomit mouth.

I need gum.

No gum, man. Vodka.

After you've thrown up
in the topiary

and rinsed your mouth out
with cheap vodka,

you don't really wanna
talk to anybody.

I just wanted to go outside
and get some fresh air.

And that's when
it happened.

Hey, man.
I look for you, man.

I had to drink your drink
on the way, man.

Momo, who is that?

Oh, that is
Jane Bellwether, man.

She like angel, man.

Like angel.

Yeah, but she got
boyfriend, man.

Cleveland.

He like the devil, man.

Like the devil.

How do you know?

Momo used to date.

- What?
- Come, I introduce you.

No, no, no.

- Jane!
- Mohammed.

Yes, of course.

Jane, I want you to
meet my friend, Art.

Art Bechstein,
this is Jane Bellwether.

A pleasure,
Mr. Bechstein.

Likewise.

I admit I could've been more
charming at our introduction.

Okay, I'm hungry
like a motherfuck.

Who is for pie at Lola's?

Do you like pie, Art?

But when a girl asks you
if you like pie,

there's really
only one answer.

The Book Barn, huh?
Really?

Yeah.

But it's only till
the end of the summer.

My father has this job
lined up for me

that starts in the fall.

And what does he do?
What does your father do?

He manipulates
Swiss bank accounts

with money that comes from
numbers, whores, protection

and cigarette smuggling.

Really?

No.
He's in finance.

For a second there,

I thought we were gonna
talk about something exciting.

Yeah.

I have a boyfriend.

I know.
It's Cleveland, right?

- How did you know that?
- Mohammed told me.

He's a gossip.
And jealous.

Jealous?

Well, he and Cleveland
used to

spend a lot of
time together, I guess.

And what happened?

Cleveland starting spending
a lot of time with me.

Oh.

Art, would you do
something for me?

Sure, what?

I mean,
up until this moment,

this has been
the relatively normal,

getting-to-know-you
chit-chat, right?

- Yeah, well. . .
- But if you tell me something

that you've never said
out loud to anyone before,

then this moment
becomes unique.

It becomes indelible.

Can you do that for me?

I don't know.
I'm not sure I have one.

Of course you do.

Everybody has something

that they have never
told anyone else before.

I can wait.
There's no time limit.

Well, I have this. . .

I have this thing
that happens to me.

An experience.

It happens before
I realize it.

I don't feel it
coming on or anything.

It's just, suddenly I'm. . .

I'm aware of it.
I can feel it.

I vanish.

When it first happened,
I was nine

and it was right after
my mother died,

and I was. . .

I was scared.

I don't know
how long it lasts.

I know when it happens.

I look people
in the eye, strangers.

But they never look back.

They never see me.

I've thought to myself,

this must be what it's like.

This must be
what dying is.

Just sort of fade away.

Vanish.

I guess I worry
there's gonna be a time

where it happens

and never ends.

And I'd stay that way
forever, you know.

Yeah.

Anyway, I've never. . .

I've never told that
to anyone.

I'm sorry
about your mother.

That's okay.

Probably
wasn't your fault.

Art, would you
walk me home?

Yeah.

Can I help you?

I'm looking for
Son of a Gangster,

by Art Bechstein.

Suddenly,
my mind went blank.

All mental activities ceased.

Just not here, okay?

All right.

Outside, then.

Someone, somewhere

was trying to send
my father a message.

They were gonna
hit him where it hurt,

and that meant me.

At my funeral,

my cousin Debbie
would play guitar

and sing Blackbird
or Moonshadow.

Who the fuck are you, bro?

Death.

I decided that my only
chance was to play along.

Get him to trust me
and then try to make my escape.

Get on.

Get the fuck on.

I hear you like pie,
Bechstein.

Cleveland?

Where are we?
What is this place?

It's a surprise.

When I finally saw his face,
it wasn't what I'd expected.

He looked more like
a court jester

than a criminal.
And to this day,

I don't know why
I followed him.

But I guess it all seemed
suddenly like an adventure.

What you see before you,
young Bechstein,

is the Cloud Factory.

The mighty coliseum
of Pittsburgh.

How long has this place
been abandoned?

About 30 years.

But the clouds
keep coming out.

All day,
all night.

No one knows why.

Wait, Cleveland.
where are we going?

Up.

Fuck.

Jane mentioned you.
Yeah.

She mentioned you
by name.

"Art Bechstein, who works
at the shitty Book Barn,"

which doesn't have
a single copy

of either Brautigan
or Bukowski,

and I said to myself,

"Well, Art Bechstein,

I know that name."

How do you know
about that?

About my father?

- Everyone knows, don't they?
- No. No one knows.

I'd prefer to keep
it that way. Please.

Please?

Pretty please?
With sugar on top?

Look, I don't know
what Jane told you,

but nothing happened
between us.

- Nothing?
- Yeah. Nothing.

That's not what
Jane said.

She said the two of you
had fun together.

- No, it wasn't like that.
- You like doing that?

You like having fun
with another guy's girl?

Look, we just
had pie together.

Pie?

Look, I'm not interested
in Jane.

- You're not?
- No.

- Why not?
- I don't know.

Because
she's dating you?

Yeah, well, that didn't
stop you last night.

You think
you could jump off this?

- No. I don't think so.
- No, wait, wait.

What if surviving
wasn't a priority?

- What?
- Off you go!

No! No!

It was there,

suspended 300 feet
above the earth,

staring at a lunatic,
that my summer finally began.

Stop fucking around,
Bechstein.

- We're gonna be late.
- Late for what?

Fun.

Hello, Art!

Hey.

So you're into punk?

No, no.
I can't stand the stuff.

Jane is.

- No kidding?
- Yeah, no kidding.

Listen,
don't tell your father

that I brought you here.
I don't think he'd approve.

Seriously, how do you
know about my father?

Nobody knows about that.

Your cousin, Danny Burns,
he knows.

He's not my cousin.

He needs to learn
to shut his mouth.

Yeah, tell me about it.
Hey. Whiskey.

So how do you know
the Burnses?

- You work for them?
- No, I don't work for anyone.

They're associates
of mine.

That's not something
to brag about.

Well, I get to
make my own hours.

And nobody knows.

Absolutely nobody.

Come on.
Relax, Bechstein.

It's gonna be
a great summer,

- I promise. Okay?
- Okay.

- Hey, you boys ready?
- Yeah.

Oh, my. So it's going
to be like that, then?

To whiplash.

Rock and roll!

Thank you, Pittsburgh.
Good to be back.

This one's called
Devil Rise.

One, two, three, four.

Jane?

Jane? Are you okay?

Where's Cleveland?

He went to the bathroom.

I'm not feeling
very well, Art.

Okay.
I'm gonna go get him.

Just stay here,
all right?

Hey, Cleveland,
Jane's ready to. . .

He's fucking busy, man.

Oh, my, I'm sorry.

- Excuse me.
- Watch it, asshole.

Thanks for waiting.

What?

Nothing.

Is there something
you'd like to say?

No.

You sure?
I won't mind.

Really.
I'm an open book.

No, I'm fine.

I'm fantastic.

Drive Jane home for me,
would you, Bechstein?

Don't do this.

Leave the keys
in the ashtray.

Cleveland.

Do you want me
to go get him?

Screw him.

Okay.

Cleveland, you're not
going in there.

- Chill out.
- What are you doing?

I'm just gonna
have a good time.

Get in the car.

- You're not going in there.
- What? What?

- You're not going in there.
- Hey, next time. . .

- No.
- Fuck you!

Leave me the fuck alone!

What's he doing?

Nothing. Cards.

You know, most nights
they won't even

let him
through the door.

Do you want to wait?

No. Let's go.

Yeah.

Art?

Oh, my God,
are you okay?

- Yeah, I'm fine.
- What are you doing here?

Well, I was worried,
so I came right over.

I'm glad
you're all right.

When Keith told me
what happened,

I totally freaked out.
I was ready to call the cops.

You didn't call the cops,
did you?

No, I figured
it might' ve been

a fraternity thing
or something.

I was never
in a fraternity.

So who was
the biker guy, then?

He was
a friend of mine.

- You don't know him.
- How do you know?

I don't know,

Because you've never
met him, Phlox.

Why are you
being mean to me?

I'm not being mean to you.
It's just. . .

I don't. . .
I don't know, okay?

So, what's his name?

- Who?
- The biker guy.

- Cleveland.
- Like the state?

Yeah,
like the state.

Well, you disappear
on the back of some bike,

like an abduction
or something,

and you're gone all day,

and then you show up
after midnight

and it's like
you're a different person.

Like your aura has changed.

My aura has not changed.

It has.
I can tell.

I feel so far away
from you right now.

I'm sorry.

Hey, I am sorry, okay?
It's just. . .

It's been a weird day.

Promise?

Yeah.

Cross your heart
and hope to die?

- Phlox. . .
- Do it.

Fine.

I cross my heart
and hope to die.

You're a dork.

Gee, thanks.

If amalgamated,
consolidated and corporated

were to issue
50,000 new shares at $1 0,

then working capital
and shareholders' equity

would be increased
by $500,000.

Note that the original
200,000 shares

will now be increased
to 250. . .

Bechstein, old sport,
what news? What news?

Cleveland,
I feel like an idiot.

- Nonsense. You look smashing.
- What're we doing here?

Jane's got her first
paying gig tonight.

I thought we'd provide her
a cheering section.

Where's she playing?

Rome.

Thanks. Cleveland,
we're the only ones here

wearing tuxedoes.

Some people have
no sense of style, Bechstein.

She's really good,
you know.

Yeah, I know.

Yeah! Yes!

All right!

Please, take your seat.

What?

I didn't say anything.

Oh.

Enter.

Hey, you wanted to see me?

Take a seat, Art.

Uh-oh.

Gonna fire me?

No. I'm not going
to fire you, Art.

Okay.

But, Art,
we do need to talk.

Why are you saying
my name so much?

- What?
- You keep saying my name.

- So?
- So, it's weird.

I'm sorry
you feel that way.

Jesus.
What's going on?

Are you ashamed of me?

- What?
- Are you ashamed of me?

Is that why
you don't want me

- to meet your friends?
- I'm not ashamed of you.

You can meet them
if you like.

What about your father?

- What about him?
- I want to meet him.

I never said you couldn't.

We've been together
since March, Art,

and he's in town
every four weeks on business.

You have dinner with him
alone at Lemont,

and you've never once
asked me to join you.

What am I
supposed to think?

- I don't want to fight.
- This isn't a fight, Art.

This is just you being
impossibly strange again.

You know,
as your girlfriend,

I don't think it's
unreasonable for. . .

- Oh, my God.
- What?

Oh, my God.
I'm so stupid.

You don't think I'm
your girlfriend, do you?

- No, I . . .
- I'm just some girl

you're fucking.

Wait, no, I thought that
that's how you wanted it.

- I'm like a joke to you.
- You're not a joke to me.

You go home
and you laugh at me.

- I don't laugh at you.
- No wonder you won' t

introduce me to your father.

Okay, hold on a second.

Okay? It's getting
a little out of hand, here.

It's spinning
out of control a little bit.

Phlox.

Come on, don't. . .
Don't cry.

I'm not crying.

I'm not fucking crying
for you.

I've cut you
out of my heart.

Do you hear me?

You've been cut out of
my heart, Art Bechstein.

Get out.

Get out of my office!

Hello?

Hey.

Wait, what?

Usually, in situations
such as these,

we would simply
call the police.

But the other patron
was a regular

and so discretion
was required.

- What happened?
- Your friend's girlfriend

perhaps had too much
to drink this evening.

She was creating
a bit of a disturbance.

- And?
- I believe a remark was passed.

Oh.

- How much?
- $300 for the meal

and $1 50
for the other activity.

Okay.

Is this your card?

It's my father's,
yes.

We're very sorry
for any inconvenience.

Please accept
our sincere apologies.

- We'll take care of everything.
- I'd prefer to pay.

- Jesus Christ.
- Oh, no, sir.

- I could never allow that.
- I don't care.

Let's just fucking leave.

I broke my strap.

Baby.

Don't worry about that.

Hi, Art.

I still love you.

Don't judge me, okay?

Yeah. Okay.

She wants me to go to
graduate school with her.

She asked me.

What did you say?

I don't remember.

But it wasn't good,
whatever it was.

She drinks too much
sometimes, you know?

Yeah.

Anyway, I can't go with her
where she's going.

Why not?

I don't know.
That's not where I'm going.

Love can only do

so much in this life.

It's beautiful,
but it's not real.

Don't do drugs.

I guess
I could quit, but. . .

Let me get a pull.

I don't know,
part of me wants to see

how bad it's gonna get,
you know?

I kind of respect that.
Jesus hates a quitter.

Yeah.

"Hello, my name is
Asshole." That's funny.

Yeah.
That's good stuff.

I'll be sure to tell her
you're pleased.

I understand where
she's coming from.

Say, I'd like to meet
your old man.

Shake that fabled
iron hand.

- Oh, God.
- What?

Not you too.

What?
I think I'd like him.

- I think he'd like me.
- No. He wouldn't like you.

Yeah? Why not?

Because he doesn't like
any of my friends.

And he wouldn't be
happy to know

that I with one of
Lenny Burns' errand boys.

Hey, I'm not
Lenny Burns' anything.

It's not gonna happen.

Okay.

- Okay.
- Okay.

I'm starving.
You wanna stop at the O?

Yeah, sure.

Shit.

Stay cool and
you'll keep your teeth.

Hey, Lurch.
How's your mom?

Stop! Stop!

What the fuck
did I tell you?

Relax, all right?

Your boyfriend's
gonna be fine.

He's got protection.

Cleveland,
you handle your situation

or your situation is
sure as shit gonna handle you.

I stopped by
the bookstore.

- What?
- You weren't there.

You came to
check on me?

I liked the aprons.
Very becoming.

Dad, I don't. . .

You don't
have to do that.

What?

I'm not allowed
to stop by your work?

Do I embarrass you?

No, that's not the point.

What is the point?

What is the point
of what you've been doing

this entire summer?
I'd like to know.

Am I keeping you
from something?

What? No.

I'm supposed to
meet somebody.

- That's all.
- A girl?

Sort of.

- Sort of?
- I mean, yes.

It's not polite to keep
a woman waiting, Art.

- I know that.
- I don't think you do.

Okay.

Where do you think
you're going?

- I'm late.
- Dinner isn't finished.

- I'm full.
- I'm not. Sit down.

- What?
- Sit down

until I'm finished eating.

- Dad. . .
- Sit down!

Now.

Thanks for coming
with me on short notice.

I hope it wasn't
too much of a bore.

- Thanks.
- Cleveland always says

that the theater is phony.

Yeah.
Sorry I was late.

So when do you leave
for your audition?

Tomorrow.

How long is it?

It's, like, half an hour.

I mean, less
if they hate you.

It's so weird.
When I was little,

my mother forced me
to play and I hated it.

I mean, I hated
every minute of it.

And now if I get in,

it'll just change
everything.

You know,
I'll move to California.

It's like
a whole new life.

So is Cleveland
going to go with you?

I don't know.
I mean, I hope so.

I've asked him,

but he won't give me
a straight answer.

You know what
Cleveland's like.

Yeah.

I think
it's gonna rain.

No, it's a tease.

You really don't miss,
do you?

Not usually.

So when is Jane
coming back?

Monday, I think.

Her audition
was yesterday?

Yeah.

You haven't
heard from her?

No.

So have you
thought about it?

I don't really spend
much time thinking about

why Jane
hasn't called me.

No, I meant
have you thought about

going with her?

Moving to San Francisco?
Have you thought about it?

No. I haven't
thought about it.

Have you thought about it?

Jesus, I'm just trying to
help you with your future.

You don't need
to be an asshole.

You wanna
talk about the future,

let's talk about the future.

Let's talk about
your future.

You've got your face
buried in a book,

studying for
a test you don't need,

for a job you don't want,

and the joke of it is,

the real test
is whether or not

you're gonna
take the test at all.

I know you think
you can't go with her.

But you can
if you want to.

You're not doomed.

We're all doomed,
Bechstein.

That's the point.

Shit.

Shit.
It won't start.

Help me with this!
Help me with this!

You can't do it that way,
it's electric!

Push! Push!

Push it
under those trees.

Shit!

Oh, man.

Who's that?

It's Jane.

Art! I got in!
I'm going to San Francisco.

That's great!

I came straight here
from the airport.

I wanted it to be
a surprise.

I hope I'm not
interrupting

- your boys' weekend.
- Is she, Bechstein?

No.
Of course not.

Oh, I brought
groceries.

I'm going to make
a salad.

Oh, great. Salad.

That's just what
we need.

Asshole.

What? What?

I love you,
you asshole.

Then don't ask
the fucking question!

Just let it go,
Cleveland.

- Are you okay?
- I'm fine.

Ah, she's okay.

I'm okay,
we're all okay.

Are you good?

We're all fine.

Just one big,
fine fuckin' family.

Me and my girlfriend

and the guy who likes to
watch us fuck.

Jesus Christ, Cleveland,
Art is our friend!

You're right. You're right.
You're right.

You're right.
You're right.

You're right. Okay.
You're right.

We're all friends.

You wanna fuck
my girlfriend, friend?

Shut up.
Just shut up. Shut up!

No, no, no.
Hey! Hey!

Okay? Now.

Or do you wanna fuck me?
Huh? Is that it?

Are you done?

I'm sorry.

Hey.

It's my birthday
in two weeks.

I didn't know.

Last year,
Cleveland bought me

a beautiful dress,
with a black rose

that wrapped
at the neck.

He said when
he saw it in the window,

it sang to him
like a siren.

He's in debt.

He gambles.

I think
he's in trouble

but he won't tell me.

And I keep saying that
we should just leave.

That he should come
with me to San Francisco,

or we should go to Chicago

or New York or any
place that isn't here.

That isn't Pittsburgh.

He can be
so wonderful, Art.

He loves you.

He loves you too.

It's different.

I don't think so.

Not for him.

So how long have

you two been dating?

We're not dating, Dad.
I told you that.

You did?

Yes.
Jane is my friend.

- Your friend?
- Yes.

Well, you're a very
beautiful friend, Jane.

Thank you,
Mr. Bechstein.

Do you have
a boyfriend, Jane?

- Dad.
- It's okay.

I don't, no.

Not anymore.
We broke up.

What a shame.
For him, I mean.

To lose
someone like you.

Thank you.

Would you gentlemen
excuse me

- for a moment, please?
- Of course.

I can't believe you.

What was I
supposed to think?

You were supposed to think
what I told you to think.

That we're not dating.

I thought
you were being ironic.

I wasn't being iron. . .

That's not even irony.

You're the college graduate.

Jane is just my friend.
It's her birthday tonight

and I didn't want
her to be alone.

- Okay? That's all.
- I see. My mistake.

I apologize.

You don't
need to apologize.

- Just don't do it again.
- Fine.

Fine.

Can I ask you something?

Since when have you had
to ask my permission

to ask me
something?

Do you know any of
Uncle Lenny's guys?

Know them? I went to
half of their weddings.

- Danced with their wives.
- No, I know. I know.

I mean
some of the guys

in the lower echelons.

Where are you
hanging around

that you're meeting
that kind of element?

Dad, it's not like that.
It's just. . .

It's just what?

Jane's ex-boyfriend,
Cleveland,

he might be working
for Uncle Lenny

and she hasn't
heard from him

in a couple of weeks.
She's worried about him.

I'm worried about him
too, I guess.

So that's what
you've decided to do

with your summer.

Hanging around
thugs and thieves,

greedy little morons
who take money

from other
greedy little morons.

- Dad. . .
- Art, we've talked about this.

We agreed about this.

What's the matter
with you?

What's going through
that head of yours?

Look. I'm sorry
I brought it up, okay?

I just wanted to know
if you knew some of the guys.

All right?
That's it.

- Oh, shit.
- What is it?

Nothing, Dad,
it's nothing. It's just. . .

Oh, balls.

Hello, Arthur.

Hello, Phlox.

This is my father,
Joe Bechstein.

How do you do?

It's a pleasure
to meet you.

- Is it?
- Phlox is my supervisor

- at the Book Barn.
- Oh. How lovely.

- I'm not just his supervisor. No.
- You're not?

- Phlox.
- We used to fuck.

- I'm sorry?
- Okay. That' s enough.

Your son and I used to
fuck each other a lot.

- All over the store.
- I see.

He wouldn't
introduce me to you

because he thinks
I'm a whore.

But I'm not a whore,
Mr. Bechstein.

No.
Of course you're not.

Phlox,
you need to leave.

I'm not done
talking to your father.

Yes, you are.

Hello.

I loved your son
and he broke my heart.

What's going on?

That was Art's
supervisor from work.

- Really?
- He works in a bookstore.

- Dad.
- He works for minimum wage.

- She knows.
- Well, I don't.

I don't know what to
think of it anymore.

- Dad, please.
- Working in that

ridiculous bookstore,
and hanging out with thugs.

- Dad. . .
- Look at yourself.

What are you doing
this summer?

You wouldn't want
to know.

You'd probably
hate everything

I've been doing
this summer.

Yes, I probably would.

And so would
your mother.

It's okay.

Art?
Art, stop.

I don't know
why that happens.

It always happens.

It's okay.

It's not.
It's not okay.

It was
supposed to be him,

but they made a mistake.

What are you
talking about?

She was coming to
pick me up at school.

I was weak and scared,

and I wanted to
be at home,

so I'd pretend to be sick.

She took my father's car

because she was
in a rush to get me.

And they had it wired.

My father

isn't who you think he is.

I'm not a fool, Art.

I know what
your father does.

Look, you don't
have to talk about it.

That's just it.
I don't talk about it.

We never talk about it.

My father told me
she died in a car accident

and I knew
he was lying to me.

And he's been
lying to me ever since.

He blames me for it.
He hates me for it.

- He doesn't hate you.
- He does. I know he does.

He doesn't hate you, Art.
He loves you.

I love you.

Do you love me?

Yes.

Say it.

Say you love me.

I love you.

Can I help you?

You're fired.

- What?
- You're fired.

I'm here to tell you that.
Phlox doesn't want to see

your little fucking
weasel face anymore

around the bookstore.

You're the boyfriend?

Yeah.

- Yeah, okay. I understand.
- You understand?

What the fuck
do you understand?

I'll make
you understand,

you fucking faggot!

Leave.

Now.

Jesus, Bechstein.

You're not bleeding
too bad.

You're gonna have
a beauty of a scar, though.

Where have you been?

Sabbatical.
Here.

Who's the frat boy?
Let me get in there.

Phlox's new boyfriend.

- Charming.
- Yeah.

Well,

you sure know how
to pick 'em, Bechstein.

I mean, hell.

Jane was worried
about you.

Yeah.

I was worried about you.

I know.

Jane.

Shit!

Bechstein,
just let her go.

Fuck you.

Jane!

Jane! Wait! Wait!

What? What are you
going to say, Art?

What?
You're sorry?

- I don't. . .
- What?

What?
You what?

What are you doing?
What is all this?

- I don't know.
- Do you love me?

- Yes, of course.
- Do you love him?

Yes.

You can't fix him, Art.

He won't change.
He can't.

I know.

You'll never be me, Art.

Jane.

No. That's
completely impossible.

What are you
talking about?

I doubt that.
Yeah. Yeah.

I fucking doubt that.

I understand that, right?

Listen to me.
I mean, listen to me.

I understand that,
right?

Okay. And I've paid
attention the entire time,

and I've tried to behave
in a way that was respectable.

Why don't you just let me
talk to him for one second?

You won't get him
on the phone for me

for one fucking second?

Hello? Hello?

Fuck me!

What's wrong?
Are you okay?

No, I'm in trouble.

I'm in big fucking trouble.

Your uncle
cut me loose.

I don't know.

I guess I became
a nuisance to him,

and he cut me loose.

Fuck!
And I'm fair game now.

I don't understand.
What's going on?

Punicki, he collects
on the card game,

you know, right?

And as long
as I worked for your uncle,

he couldn't touch me,
no matter how much I was down.

I mean,
he could twist my arm,

but he couldn't break it.
Where are my fucking keys?

If you need money,
Cleveland, I can help.

No, it's not about
money. I tried that.

It's not about money
to them anymore.

- Well, what's it about, then?
- I don' t know.

It's gangland.
It's about principle.

I'm just. . . I'm stuck.

I'm fucking stuck,
and I can't fix it.

And I can't get out!

You need absolution.

You know any priests?

I know my father.

Is this going
to damage things

with your old man?

I don't know.
Maybe.

Things were damaged already.

Hey!
How do you like that?

Joe Bechstein's boy.

Jimmy.
Jimmy Breezy.

Last time I saw you,
you were a kid.

Send him in.

Hello, Dad.
I'm sorry to bother you.

Art, what happened
to you?

Nothing.
I'm fine, Dad.

Don't tell me nothing.
I'm not stupid.

I'm fine, Dad, really.

Look, this is
my friend, Cleveland.

Joe, I know this kid.

Now, Mr. Bechstein,
I'm the reason we're here.

It is my fault we're
interrupting you this way,

but I wanted to
meet you.

Glad to meet you.

This guy doesn't belong
in here. He's a squeeze.

Dad,
Cleveland has a problem.

This is very foolish,
boys.

Dad, please.

Give me the room.

Now, what is it?

I need your help,
Mr. Bechstein.

Do you deserve
my help?

No. No.

But I'm asking
for it anyway.

As a friend.

Friend?

I mean,
as Art's friend.

Art's friend?

Art,
leave the room.

- What?
- Leave the room.

I want to talk to
your friend alone.

So, what happened?
What did he say?

Somebody fell out of a job

that they were
supposed to do.

It's the last-minute thing.
And he said if I do the job,

then everything's square.

- What kind of job?
- It's nothing.

It's small time.
B and E. Jewelry.

- When?
- Tonight.

What else?

I am to remove myself
from your acquaintance.

- What?
- Yeah, your father feels

that I pollute your waters.

Did you agree to it?

Did you?

It's better this way,
Bechstein. Trust me.

It's better?
For who? For you?

No, for you.

I'm going with you.

- Forget it, Bechstein.
- You don't have a choice.

Yeah, I do.
Go home.

Either you take me,
or I call the police

and I tell them someone
stole my motorcycle.

Your father is not
gonna like this.

Is there an alarm?

No, it's been
taken care of.

- I'm going in with you.
- No, no, no, no, no.

- You just stay here, okay?
- What?

- Be my lucky rabbit's foot.
- What am I supposed to do

if something happens?
Whistle and wave my hands?

Yeah.
Well, that sounds good.

- Go ahead.
- It's happening.

Yeah. Okay.

Cleveland.

Shit.

Come on.
Come on.

Shit. Run. Run!

- What happened?
- I don't know!

Well, did they hear you?
Did you wake them up?

I don't know.
I don't know.

I don't know
what the hell happened.

My father.

What?

My father,
he called the cops.

He wants to
teach me a lesson.

Some kind of fucking
lesson, Bechstein.

Come on. Get on.
Get on.

Oh, fuck.

Get off!
Get off! Get off the bike!

- What?
- Get off the fucking bike!

You don't have to do this.
You have a choice.

Be advised. Suspect
is armed and dangerous.

- Armed and dangerous.
- You two. That side, now!

There! There!

Back there! Get him!

Cleveland, stop!
They're everywhere!

Hey, you!
Hold it right there!

Okay. Okay.

Hands where
we can see them.

Get down!

You're under arrest.

Come on.

Stay where you are!
You, don't move!

There, he's on the gate!
Go, get him!

Give up! Give up!

Give up!
Go down!

Shut up!
He can't hear you.

Cleveland!

Bechstein.
You're free to go.

Open up number five!

Come on.
Let's go.

Get in the car.

Get in the car, Art.

Did you call them?

I'm not gonna discuss it.

Answer me.
Did you call them?

He was no good, Art.
He was no good for you.

- He was my friend.
- It wasn't supposed to happen

the way it happened!

It was an accident.

- Like Mom?
- Art, get in the car.

Tell me the truth.

You have to start
telling the truth now.

It was her instead
of you, wasn't it?

Don't you say
another word.

Not one more

goddamn word.

Get in the car.

Goodbye, Dad.

You're gonna
walk away from me, Art?

Son, listen, I'm sorry.

Hey, Art, come back.
I'm your father.

After that day,

I never saw
my father again.

"But who am I ,
and what is my people,

"that we should be
able to offer so willingly

" after this sort?

"For all things
come of Thee,

"and of Thine own
have we given Thee.

"For we are strangers
before Thee,

"and sojourners,
as were all our fathers.

"Our days on the
Earth are as a shadow,

and there is no abiding."

When the dream of that
summer ended, I awoke.

I remember the roar
of Cleveland's motorcycle,

the scuff of his boots
on the stone walk,

and the way his eyes looked
just before he told a joke.

I remember Jane's smile,
her quiet strength,

and the way my heart
leapt at her touch.

I remember my friends

and love them to this day.

So I pressed the button,

stepped on to the elevator,

and waited for
the doors to close.

As I walked away
from Pittsburgh,

I knew, finally, that
my life would be my own.

I packed only
what I could carry,

bought a one-way ticket,

and waited for
the train to come.