All language subtitles for Dreaming.Grand.Avenue.2020.1080p.WEBRip.x265-RARBG.eng

Next stop, Grand.

This is Grand.

Jimmy?

Are you Jimmy?

Thanks for coming, Jack.

Thanks for calling.

What's the job?

Are you serious?

Tell me you didn't bring me here
for matchmaking.

Oh, give me more
credit than that.

You know I wouldn't have called
you if it weren't important.

These two have never met
in waking life,

but they keep finding their way
into each other's dream.

What's the connection?

You're the detective.

My interest
is in the young woman.

The young man may prove
useful to you.

Here, let me help you with that.

Do you remember
your dream?

So, what's your interest?

Another research project?

Dreams are the only thing they
haven't turned into a commodity.

Not for lack of trying.

You know you're fighting
a losing battle.

Maybe.

So, what about the guy?

There is someone
who wants to speak to you.

A potential client.

It's an odd request.

Does it pay?

Handsomely.

Then "odd" is not a problem.

Anything else
you wanna tell me?

Well, only that
it's the 21st century.

You might want to retire
that outfit.

It screams "detective"

and not in a good way.

Mmm.

I'm gonna need names.

At least.

You'll get what you need.

Oh, God, I hate
when she does that.

You were really moving.

Were you having a dream?

Yeah.

Was it a good dream?

Let's see...

-Hey, what time is it?
-Hey!

I'm sorry. This interview just
has me a little frazzled.

"Frazzled"?

We talked about this for hours.

I know.

I know. Don't worry.

I got it.

I see it's been a full year
since your last job.

Okay, we're doing this. Um...

Well, I've been doing a good bit
of freelance work.

I didn't want to take
just any job.

When I heard about this job,
I knew I had to go for it.

Eye contact.

Yeah.

What questions
do I have for you?

Well, the only question
I have is,

what can I say or do
to prove to you

that I'm the right candidate
for this job? I know I am.

A little less Walken.

Okay, more Brando.

I come to you, a highly
qualified candidate,

and this is how you treat me?

Funny.

Any other details
you can think to share?

Uh, no.

I know you have this weekend
off for your tutoring,

but we're still on
for Monday, right?

Uh, sure.

Sure.

I think we're really
making some progress here.

This will take
a little bit more time.

Thank you.

Doors closing.

Next stop, Kedzie.

Throw it to me.
Throw it to me.

-Sammy!

-Maggie!
-Oh, it's so good to see you.

Somebody's here early.

Yes. Someone was here
very early again.

Sammy, why don't you go find
a book for me to read to you?

She can't keep
doing this, Maggie.

This is the second time
this month.

Maggie: How long was
she out there alone?

I was here at six.
She was here.

I tried to call
her mother--

I'll be here at 5:30
on Monday.

I'm gonna have to
give her a warning.

No. I can do this.

Please?

-A book. A book.
-

No. I'll take care of it.

We can be liable.

I know.

But let me handle this.
Let's see how it works out.

So, what do you think
your greatest strengths are?

That's a great question.

-

Your strengths?

Yes, um...

You know, I don't know
if I've had my greatest
strengths tested yet.

I've enjoyed every
single one of the jobs
you see listed there,

but I haven't had
the one job which
I'm looking for.

The job that would
really stretch me

in--in--in every, um,
direction.

And what job do you think would
put those strengths to the test?

Boy, that's another
great question.

-Thanks.
-

-Uh, you--
-Go ahead.

The job that would put
your strengths to the test.

Well, certainly,
a job like this.

Uh, this, what you do,
with all your distractions?

Interviewing people?

Uh, no, no.
I just mean, you know,

do I answer this phone
or that phone,

or--or the text or the door,

or what must be an emergency
versus distraction, just--

You think this is difficult?

It's 4:20 in the morning
and your cell phone goes off.

It's your CHRO calling you

to get on the first
flight to DC

to meet with a new hire

who has locked herself
in the bathroom

of a VP of Finance's
hotel room.

She's crying
and threatening a lawsuit

after a late night dinner turned
into a 2:00 a.m. gropefest.

But before you get
on that flight,

you know you're gonna have
to make a dozen phone calls

because at 9:00 a.m.

you're scheduled
to meet with an attorney

about an employee
that the IT department

believes may be downloading
terabytes of porn.

That was Tuesday.

You don't really want
to see my portfolio, do you?

We leave assessment
of illustration and
design talent to the CCO.

Ah. So, this, uh,

this was just to see
how I handle all that
other bullshit.

Exactly.

Funny.

Now, does that look like
the work of a depressed man?

Hello, Tommy.

Douchebag.

Whoo!

in the Jacko hat

in the Rooney shirt

the room in her daddy's flat

in an alley-cat

next door

were just like you

Do what you want to

that it wants you to

more than it means right now

reaches keeping secrets

to make a meaning

I'm moving through a space

beats the oldest groove

but we have shrunk it

We're having a ball

I can see

speak to me

ain't hiding

but we ain't sliding

let them be

leave it

you will see

till it withers you

You got things to do

it's them, man, it isn't you

believe that until it's true

not to show its face

to hold your space

deep in your sinews

on the coldest days

he can't shake

on his mind

the guilt and the heartache

trying to battle with time

with the blood on his hands

with her hands on her hips

Stay bland

then it don't exist, right?

I can see

speak to me

ain't hiding

but we ain't sliding

let them be

leave it

you will see

you're ready to receive it

on finding the differences

the bonds that bind us

when the rhythm hits...

Amy: I was getting worried.

Jimmy: Sorry. Long day.

Oh, God.
Are you in that bathtub thing?

The Jimulator.

Registered trademark,
if anyone's listening.

Amy: Gross.

So, were you
in interviews all day?

I didn't make it past
the first gatekeeper.

What? Why?

You didn't say anything...

weird, did you?

What, like... "Don't kill
what you can't eat"?

Yes, like that.

I still stand by that statement.

But I told you I wouldn't,
so I didn't.

Then what was the problem?

I don't know.

She seemed pretty stressed.

There were all these noises.

Uh, did-- Well, did you
send her a thank you email?

"Thank you email"?

For what? She didn't even
look at my work.

For taking the time
to talk with you.

What if you sent her
an email saying that
you'd like another shot?

That she didn't get a chance
to see the real you.

The "real me"?

The "real me" showed up
and was shown the door.

She doesn't give a damn
about the "real me."

I think there's
a part of you that's relieved.

Well, there's definitely
a part of me

that believes there is
a line somewhere

between showing interest
and kissing someone's ass.

You have to show them
that you want the job.

What I really want right now
is more bubbles.

Bubble inventory
is at a critical low.

Have you thought about
getting in touch with Dr. Fein?

He seemed to help you
last time.

You're breaking--

Amy, are you--

Sarah: Maggie.

Maggie!

Sarah?

Sh--!

Who are you, and why
are you following me?

I... thought you were
following me.

Why would I do that?

Wild fascination?

Pheromones?

Maggie: Pheromones?

You like Emily Dickinson?

How do you know
I like Emily Dickinson?

Hey, kid. You want a job?

Yeah, you.

You looking for a job?

Obviously, you're gonna have
to put some pants on.

I'm not gonna ask you
a third time.

You want a job,
come to my office.

Yeah?

Um, hi. I was calling about
the help wanted sign.

No. It says, "Now Hiring."

Yeah,
but isn't that the same--

No. It's not the same thing,
slugger.

I don't need help.

I have a client
with an unusual ask.

Uh... who is the client?

If you're interested,
come by the office.
You know where I'm at.

How... how would you know that?

I'm a detective, Ace.

-Maggie: Hi, Sammy.
-Maggie!

Oh. I didn't know anyone
was here this early.

Uh, yeah.

Come in.

I, uh, saw your note
on Friday--

I'm so sorry about
all of this.

I just started
this new job.

It's alright.

My ex, her asshole father,

is totally out
of the picture.

I can't afford
an at-home nanny

and I just really
need this job.

Okay. Uh, here.

Here's my cell phone number.

If, for some reason,
I'm not here
when you get here,

please call me.

I just don't
want her waiting.

Like I do?

That's not what I meant.

People can be
so judgmental.

Life just really
sucks right now.

Sammy, you want to go
find our favorite book?

Wait. Can I at least
say goodbye?

I'm not that bad of a mommy,
am I, sweetie?

Jack: Come on in.

Have a seat.

Just sit down-- Just move
that stuff off that chair.

You want a juice?

I've been juicing.

Now, it looks like
the kind of thing

they dug out
of a crocodile's ass,

but it actually isn't bad.

Uh, thank you.
I'm good.

Hey, how did you know
I was outside the door?

I have a security camera.

Right.

Let's get to
the task at hand.

I have a client who's
looking for some help.

-What's the job?
-Are you particular?

They're looking
for somebody

who can easily access
deeper levels of dreams.

How do you know that about me?

Jesus...

Do you hear yourself
saying this shit?

Where did you meet me?

Sorry, I get it, uh...

You're a d--detective.

I'm a Dream Detective, ace.

Big difference.

You're an artist.

Well, I--

Artist, yes or no?

Yes, I am--

I'm an illustrator.

You're doing a bang-up job
of selling yourself, pal.

My girlfriend says
the same thing.

Is she the one from
the--the bookstore dream?

Wait. Do you know that woman?

Try to keep up with
the big kids here.

Would I ask you if she was
your girlfriend

if I knew who she was?

Yeah, right.

You have
an appointment tonight,

9:00 p.m. sharp.

This is the address.

That's it?

That's all you're
gonna tell me?

They need an illustrator--

Someone who can easily access
deeper levels of dreams.

Don't sell yourself short.

What's the compensation?

You'll have to talk to them.
They have money.

I'll leave it to you to
negotiate your own details.

I'm assuming
you'll show up?

Sure. Yeah.

I, uh...
I'll look into it.

But...?

I was just wondering

if you could maybe help me

find out who that girl
in the dream is.

Look who has a new appreciation
for the Dream Detective.

Look, I'm not trying to be
stalker-y or anything, just--

No, I get it.

In all honesty, I'm curious
about your connection myself.

It's usually
a shared-fate thing.

You think?

No. You think.

And you feel it.

Capiche?

-Yeah.
-

Go on. I got
some digging to do.

You're welcome.

Yeah, uh, thank you
for the lead.

Don't screw it up.

-Jimmy: Yeah.

Jack Yancy, Dream Detective.

Juke!

What do you know?
What do you say?

Yeah, we've been through
the whole thing

about the surveillance.

He just left here.

Afraid?

I think not.

Hey, Juke, how long
have you known me?

Oh, yeah?

Maybe you wanna bet?

Alright,
let's keep it comfortable.

Let's say 500--

No, let's keep it adventurous.

Let's say $1,000.
Let's say a yard.

Only, I'm not gonna
tell you dick.

Just let him do his job.

We're pretty far along.

We have very promising data.

I'm sorry.
It's just--

The thing is,

I have the worst dreams
when I'm at home,

but I'm just exhausted.

The nightmares
are worse at home?

I have far fewer here.

If I had half a brain,
I should probably continue here,

but thing is, I have
to be up earlier for work.

Oh. You just want
to get up earlier?

An hour.

We can do that.

Dreams usually manifest
in REM sleep,

but you've been averaging
six significant events a night

-of varying lengths.
-Six?!

It's on the high side
but not unusual.

Most people forget
the majority of their dreams.

I could definitely do without
a few of mine.

Can I show you something?

Have a seat.

These are the unfiltered signals

we're getting from
multiple inputs,

including readings
on eye movement,

tracking how you may think
you're seeing in your dream.

Now, what we've done is
create a loop of impulses,

signals back into
the ventrolateral
preoptic nucleus,

located near the front
of your hypothalamus.

Here is what
we were able to see.

This is an image
from the other day.

-Think of it as

trying to listen in
to multiple parts

of your brain
in conversation
having one dream.

It's a symphony of inputs.

Carol and I are
working on ways

to refine and
filter your signals.

No pressure, right?

What if you could literally
look your nightmare in the face?

Drag it out into daylight?

Why would I wanna do that?

Because it's your dream.

Maybe there's something
you need to see

on the other side.

That's easy for you to say.

You don't know what might be
on the other side.

Let's try again,
together.

One more week.

One more week.

Looking for someone?

This is a dream, right?

Uh, you tell me.

The only other time
I've been here has
been in another dream.

What's your name?

Why?

Like the letter?

What?

Your name is "Y"?

No, Maggie, alright?

Relax,
Miss Alright.

A friend of mine
asked me to find out
a little more about you.

Does he wear boxer shorts
and black socks?

He's been known to.

I don't usually
dress like this.

None of my business.

You sure you two haven't
met on the other side?

You mean in real life?

No. I don't mean that
at all.

This is pretty freaking real,
isn't it?

I remember him from
a couple of my dreams.

The last one he was standing
in this bookstore...

with Walt Whitman's
Leaves of Grass.

Whitman, huh?

Then he asked me about
Emily Dickinson and was gone.

You looking for him now?

I don't know.
I'm just dreaming.

Dreaming about him
is certainly better
than the nightmares.

What every guy wants to hear.
"You're better than
a nightmare."

No, I didn't
mean it like that.

Uh, do me a favor,

please don't tell him
I said that.

I--I won't.

Tell me about
the nightmares.

I really, I--

I don't wanna talk
about those.

Yeah, but you tell the doc,
the researcher.

How do you know that?

It's my job
to know these things.

Look, if you want
to talk about this,

or you find
yourself in trouble--

Trouble?

You'll find that
when you need it.

When you wake up.

One more thing.

A colleague would like
to show you something.

Your choice.

Andromeda:
Why are you doing this?

Why are you letting
that doctor
into your dreams?

I just wanna make it stop.

You ride?

I know this bike.

1968 Triumph Trident, T-150.

You Jimmy?

I hear you're
looking for work.

Aww, fuck this.

-Yancy said you'd have some--
-Jimmy: Wait, wait, wait. Uh...

The work, is it... legal?

Totally legal!

I'm Juke.

Jimmy: Uh--

Take a ride
with me.

You decide you want
to take the job,

-then take the bike.
-Ah--

If not, you bring the bike
back here. No questions asked.

You said you ride, right?

No, no.
I just meant, um...

My dad had one of those
when I was a kid.

If he didn't teach you
how to ride,

please tell me he at least
took you riding with him.

No?

Man, that's just bad parenting.

Get on.

-Jimmy: We hunting vampires?

You got beer out here.

This your office
or something?

Look at the boy scout,
all prepared.

Well, you remember
that bike I told you about,

turns out, this was
the only thing my old man
left behind.

That and a pile
of dirty laundry.

At the risk of being rude,
what are we doing out here?

And what's the job
you keep saying--

Relax.

There's more where
that came from.

For now, humor me.

I want to learn
a little bit more about you.

Yeah, but we must've passed,
like, a dozen bars
on the way out here.

Thirty-two.

Okay.

Why a cemetery?

You know memento mori?

Never mind.
Latin shit.

I like coming out here
because...

sometimes I have to be reminded
of all these wasted souls.

How do you know
they're wasted?

You're obsessed
with that bike.

I remember that Trident
better than my old man.

All those nights
in the garage just...

I was holding the flashlight
or handing him a socket wrench.

He's dead?

You said you remember
the bike better than him.

He left when I was eight.

My mother seemed almost
happy to see him go.

But all those nights
in the garage,

I suppose neither my mom or I
was surprised that he left

to "follow his dreams."

Juke: Not surprised.

But you never
saw him again?

I get a call from
a half-brother

I never knew I had,
letting me know that
the old man had died

in a suburb an hour
outside of Pittsburgh.

He's 21,

and his name's James,
and he's in tech,

-and he has more money than God.
-Juke: Wait.

You're brothers and have--

Half-brother.

And, yes, we have
the same name.

-Ouch.
-Mmm.

What's the deal?

-Jack Yancy said you had a job.
-Oh!

Come on.

Don't stop now.

I want to learn all about
what you really want.

Jack Yancy, Dream Detective.

What do you mean
he didn't show up?

Name it, Jimmy.

What do you want?

An explanation.

Try again.

Think big.

No, no. I gave him
the right address.

Just tell me what's going on.

Now.

Or what?

You think you can make it back
to the main road?

You're not in a position
to demand anything.

But bargain?

You can always
bargain with me.

I have a pretty good idea
who's screwing around with this.

Let me get back to you.
He isworth the trouble.

He promised me.

This is your guy.

It's the oldest story
in the world, buddy.

Good versus evil.

Light against the darkness.

Seriously, you're gonna try and
scare me with some grade school,

black-versus-white bullshit?

Tell me about the greys,
college boy.

-Your choice.
But if you're smart...
-

-Whoa, hey!
-...you'd best get your ass
into that pump house

as fast as you can.

Juke: Sit down, Jimmy.

This is Detective Augustine.

He's the good cop.

I'll meet you there.

-Shit.

Augustine: You recognize
this individual?

Yeah.

That's my half-brother,
James.

When was the last time
you two had contact?

Three or four months ago.

Look, I really think
I should be talking
to an attorney right now.

Shit!

Like he said,
I'm the good cop.

Now, why would you
need an attorney?

Look, man, I--I just
met this guy once, okay?

Uh, we talked
on the phone a few times.

He lives out
in Silicon Valley.

The purpose
of your meeting?

Mine?

Curiosity.

He called me out of the blue
to let me know
his--our father died.

He wanted to meet me.

Why?

To meet me?
Look me in the face?

It was only after
our father died

that he even knew
I even existed.

So, he had that on me.

Yeah, that's his.
He proudly showed it to me.

"Proudly?"

"Follow your dreams"
was something his...

our father used to say.

And you remember him
saying that?

Yeah. He had it tattooed.

Why?

Ask him.

It, uh...

"Follow your dreams"
became his great inspiration.

Like the motorcycle.

Jimmy: Right.

It sort of represented
this whole mythology

of what my father said
he couldn't talk about.

-Augustine: "Mythology"?
-Because he couldn't
talk about it.

James had imagined
this whole outlaw life.

Roadside bars,
women in back rooms.

And then he found out
that the great rebel

left a wife and kid
in Chicago.

-What about you?

What about me?

What did you imagine

about the guy who said
"follow your dreams"?

Did you
imagine him out on the road
like some outlaw

with all those women
in back rooms?

I suppose, but I guess I got
the better end of the deal.

James had
to find out that

this great inspiration
was based on bullshit.

But weren't you
the one abandoned
for all those dreams?

Sure.

But I wasn't
some millionaire

trying to impress
his father,

only to find out that
the dreams were bullshit.

Left depressed and wondering
what the great dream was.

What was his dream?

To create an app
that gets adults

to obsessively tap
touchscreens

like--like monkeys?

What about the rebel
you hated?

He ended up
seven hours east.

Not hanging out
in biker bars,

but settled down

with a wife that
was not your mother

and a kid that
was not you.

It must have changed everything
you thought about him.

Not really.

He was an asshole before
and after I got the news.

James: "Follow your bliss."

What?

That's what he used to say,

"Follow your bliss."

It's from Joseph Campbell.

Even after I showed you the tat,

you got it wrong because
you've been saying it

and believing it
since you were how old?

You're a piece of work.

No mystery.

No curiosity.

All three of you got it wrong.

None of you could
figure it out.

If I were you,
I'd take the deal.

What?

Roxanne: You think
you can change him?

Don't tell me you think
you can change him.

I don't want to change him.
I just think he needs--

He needs?
No, no, no.

They're big boys. They have
all the ingredients they need.

It's not that complicated.
It's a penis and a paycheck.

You don't believe that.

You are dating a stand-up comic
who still does local mic nights.

John is an investment.

Besides, the humor is

reasonable compensation.

At least
he makes me laugh,

and that is more
than you can say for--

His father died.

Amy, honey, I love you,

but he's been grieving
since the day you met.

Do you ever consider that
this just might be
the man's default setting?

But have you seen
his artwork?

You've met him once.

And that's all I need.

Besides, the whole thing
with the bathtub--

No. I am sorry that
I ever even told you that.

It's just weird,
and not funny-weird.

What brings you
to this part of town?

We need to talk
about your mother.

What can I get you to drink?

Nothing, thank you.

Is everything okay?

Of course, everything is
not okay, or I wouldn't be here.

You don't respect
your mother enough

to even return
her phone calls.

Oh, God, you scared me.

Yes. I know.
I'm sorry. I will.

Is this what they teach you
at the universities now,

-disrespect for your parents?
-Papi--

Do you know that she cries
at night about you?

I get home very late
from work,

and I tutor
on the weekends,
but you're right--

You find free time
for the mayates,
but you can't be bothered--

Please, don't use
that language.

It's bad enough that you
wasted your college education

to become a babysitter.

It's called Child Development,
and it's what I love doing.

You are not too old
to get a law degree.

Please, not this again.

You are smarter than this.

That's your dream for me.

There would be a place
for you at the firm.

And it won't be long
before I retire.

Every time I come home,
you bring--

Oh, por favor.

When was the last time
you came home?

Christmas.

Christmas.

The UPS delivery man,

he spent more time
at Christmas.

Because you go on and on--

Because you don't listen.

What about Frankie?

Your brother...

He has more experience with
our legal system than I do.

Mm-hmm. He does.

Why can't you just let me--

Because you are
wasting your life!

You graduated
at the top of your class.

You said you wanted
to be an attorney.

I was 17.

And--and I knew that's
what you wanted to hear.

What do they pay you?
Hmm? Nada.

You can't bully me
like mamá.

She said we were alike,
you and I.

That must've hurt to hear.

Both stubborn.

Tell me, do you think
you can raise these children

better than their own
mothers and fathers?

Of course not.

But their mothers and fathers
have full-time jobs.

Sometimes two jobs.
It's about... economics.

I came here with nothing.

And I'm very proud of the life
you have provided for us.

Then why can't you
stick with your own kind?

Let them take care
of their own.

Just so you know,

-they're killing Mexican babies
in this city too, Dad.
-Oh...

Remember when you took us
to Campeche?

-Ernesto: Of course. You were--
-Eleven.

I wanted you to understand
your heritage, but, clearly--

Remember that Mayan temple
we visited in the jungle?

How the guide told us how
they sacrificed young boys?

Remember Frankie cried?

-He was just--
-Four years old, yeah.

Remember what
you did after?

You called him into
your room that night,

next door to ours.

You said he had
embarrassed you.

You told him
he was never, ever

to cry about such things.

You said blood sacrifices

were the way the Mayans
had stayed in power.

You said blood sacrifices are
what civilizations are built on.

Absolutely right.

What you and your--
your sentimental friends

won't accept is that
every civilization

is built on blood sacrifice.

Papi,I agree. I do.

-We are living
in Mayan times right now.
-

Every day, another child
gets sacrificed.

We may not know who
in the morning,

but by the evening,
another one will be murdered.

Perhaps, even an entire
classroom of children.

No. This is different.

No. We know
it will happen.

And we accept it.

We participate
in the blood sacrifice.

Perhaps, it should have been you
in the room that night

not Frankie.

You've given me enough
lessons already, papi.

Your mother's wrong.

You and I...

are nothing alike.

You... are far too weak.

Juke: Still don't believe?

Good and evil too simple
for you, college boy?

This is insane.

That's what
people usually say

when they encounter
a darkness this deep.

Juke: Time to make
a decision, boy scout.

Jimmy: What do you want?

Juke: You know what I want!

Juke: How hard is it
to sell your soul

when you don't believe
you have one?

-I have a soul.
-Juke: Sure.

When was the last time

you even thought about it?!

Now, fame... power?

You want to impress
that girlfriend?

Tell me what you want, Jimmy.

Just say it.

Uh, it's not a lot.

Juke: What's a soul even for?

What's it worth to you?

Maggie!

Sorry. I was daydreaming.

What were you
dreaming about?

I was dreaming
about... you.

I dreamed that you
were all grown up,

and you were an astronaut

in a silver rocket ship

zooming through space.

Where was I going?

To a planet where...

where everyone is happy.

Weren't you gonna be there?

No.

No, I wouldn't be there.

I'd be here on Earth.

You have to be there.

You're the happiest
person I know!

-

Time to stop fucking around.

Nimeda: Give me your hand.

Ooh!

Next time somebody
sends crows to help you,

have some respect.

Maybe help out?

A couple of my friends
almost got shot back there.

Enough.

Who are you?
Where are we?

Nimeda:
It's a complicated question.

For at least 700 years,

this region has been
home to the Potawatomi
and other tribes.

You'd call it "Chicago."

I told you,
this guy's an idiot.

Jack Yancy
recommended you.

We waited for you
last night.

Then, we spent
the rest of the night
trying to save your ass.

You were the ones
with the job?

Do you recognize these?

Why would I
recognize these?

It can take some time.
No worries.

Yancy had a good feeling
about you.

Yeah, well, after tonight,
I have my doubts about him.

What happened was
not his fault.

Someone just got to you
before we could.

Jimmy: So, uh, this job...

Jack Yancy was saying about,

that you need an artist?

If he's right,
you'll figure it out.

Until then,
we've got your cell phone.

Hey!

Police are
investigating the death
of an eleven year old.

One of 22 people
shot in Chicago

over a 12-hour period.

The girl, Shamiya Adams,

was at a birthday celebration
with seven friends Friday night

in the west Garfield Park
neighborhood,

when a bullet from
outside the home

ripped through the wall,
and struck her in the head.

She was taken
to Mount Sinai Hospital

and pronounced dead
at 7:33 a.m. Saturday--

Andromeda: Might I offer
a piece of advice, doctor?

You should spend more time
in your own dreams

before poking around
in other people's.

This is a dream?

All this around you...

and those lights under you.

These are not only
the dreams of the people,

but dreams of the city itself.

Have a seat.
Drinks on me.

What are we doing here?

I need you to reconsider

the research you're doing.

What?! Why?

You're opening
a Pandora's Box.

It's unknown territory

and that frightens some.

Dreams may be
the only thing humans
haven't put up for sale.

Every fetish and fantasy

is searchable,
downloadable.

I'm not selling anything.

Not yet.

And not you.

But dreams are one of
the last things

that are keeping us
from becoming commodities.

Is this about Maggie
and her nightmares?

Let's keep names out of this,
shall we?

You're poking
a screwdriver

inside
the body electric.

Someone's going
to get a shock.

Dreams are neurochemical
events in the brain.

"Just."

You forgot the word "just."

"Just a neurochemical
event," right?

As if it could
all be reduced to
the limits you define.

I'm a doctor.

By bringing Maggie's dreams
out into the light,

perhaps... perhaps we can
relieve her of her nightmares.

You've seen those creatures

that live at
the bottom of the ocean,

some in near total darkness?

Dr. Wandervogel:
On TV, yes.

Andromeda: The pressure
at those depths

would kill most
terrestrial animals.

What if you
brought them up

to shallower depths?

You'd kill them.

You could examine
the corpses, of course.

The same way
you might be able

to see what a dream is,

but not "why" a dream is.

If exposing it to light
didn't kill it,

our waking minds would,

but dreams need
to be dreamed.

We don't solve dreams,
doctor.

Dreams heal us.

I gotta say,
you guys don't screw around.

So...?

We think he can
do the job.

Great. What's next?

You'll receive
your payment.

I mean, for the kid.

When he wakes up,
we'll show him the site.

And he'll get
his cell phone back?

Nimeda: Of course.

In the meantime,
don't you have some
unfinished business?

I'll take care of it.

Look, I don't know how
you got him down there,

-but I'm assuming--
-He'll be taken care of.

Jack: Good. I'd hate
like hell to think

he's gonna
have to swim home.

Sarah was five years old.

This is how she always told me:

"Five!"

She didn't like to talk much.

Developmentally, she was closer
to two or three.

One of our specialists said
she had a mild form of autism,

but I always suspected
something else.

She was the oldest of three

and a disappointment
to her parents.

They were the kind
of control freaks

who hated the fact
that their child

wasn't playing
piano sonatas at six

or doing long division.

Mommy and Daddy
were frustrated,

angry, really,

that Sarah wasn't
fully potty-trained,

that she didn't
interview well,

and the high-priced
kindergarten

they had tried to pay
to take her had passed.

At five...

little Sarah was a failure.

But there's something Mommy
and Daddy didn't say either.

Something they kept out
of their interview.

Not because they were ashamed,

but because they had
convinced each other

they were right.

They knew that if they
had tried to spank this child

for lack of concentration,

if they physically abused her
in any way,

it would leave marks.

So, they devised a way,

both of them,

and this is what sometimes
brings me to my knees.

When Sarah soiled herself,

they'd take her
in the bathroom,

strip her of her clothes,

and as they scrubbed her,

submerged her underwater.

Now, you might think
that even a young child
would fight back.

And in that fight,
might bruise herself
in a way that others might see,

but even here,

smart Mommy and Daddy

made sure to set thick towels

around the tub.

One afternoon,

when Sarah was having
a particularly hard day

and I needed to change
her diaper,

I took her into the bathroom.

As I removed her clothes,

she started trembling

and crying.

I wrapped a towel
around her shoulders

and took a damp washcloth--

I thought I could turn it
into a kind of game.

But the moment
those drops of water

hit her skin,

she screamed
like an animal, burned.

I held Sarah,

naked and wrapped in a towel,
for half an hour.

I was so shaken,

I couldn't write up
the incident report
until the next day.

When they questioned

Mommy and Daddy much later,

they said that
they'd read somewhere online

that the record for holding
your breath under water

is a full 22 minutes.

So, they made sure they timed it

to never exceed half of that.

Ten minutes.

No more.

They were quite proud of that.

All of our genius for control.

Mommy and Daddy had enough money

to never spend a night in jail.

Mommy and Daddy claimed,
in their defense,

that they did not beat her.

She was never bruised.

She was well-fed.

For heaven's sakes,
they paid for daycare.

And this is how,

mediated by money,

Mommy and Daddy

believe they have
no blood on their hands.

Five years old.

That's how old you were,

wasn't it, Emily?

Your brother, Alexander,

was just two years older,
wasn't he?

Do you remember that dream
you had that afternoon
you dozed off?

How you dreamed that your
brother's spirit sat up in bed,

reached out,
and slipped into you.

As if he was
taking over your body.

Remember that dream, Emily?

It frightened you enough
to tell your mother

you didn't want to go back
to that hospital.

And you never saw Alex
alive again.

Now, you hope
to take dreams apart,

defuse them like
a Navy Seal defusing a bomb.

This is the assignment.

-What was that back there?
-A test.

As much for you
as for us.

We need you to paint

another, larger medicine wheel

to our exact specifications.

Here.

-Nimeda: Not today,

but in the next few months.

You'll find
an installment
for the work

and money for
painting supplies.

Give him
his phone, too.

Jimmy: Uh, I suppose
it's in bad form

to ask how much I'm gonna
get paid for this?

More than enough.

How do you know
I'm gonna be able to do this?

Create...
what you're looking for?

It's in your blood.

-Oh, hi.
-Maggie: Hi, pumpkin.

I was just getting ready
to leave a note.

Right. Come on, Sammy.

-Excuse me?
-Come on in, sweetheart.

No, what did you just say to me?
Who do you think you are?

Lady, I'm prepared to
be here for your daughter,

but at the moment,
I have zero interest
in dealing with you.

I'm the one that
pays your salary.

No.

I don't get paid a cent
to come in here early.

I didn't ask you
to do me any favors.

Believe me,
I'm not doing youany.

What is this?
You come in a little early,

so you can lay
a guilt trip on me?

Do you have any kids
of your own?

Yeah, I didn't think so.

You have no idea
what it takes.

Hey!

Open the door!

-Open the door! Sammy!
-Come on, honey.
Let's go play.

-Samantha, open this door!
-You're mommy is upset, I know.

Open this door!

Have you ever
made a mistake?

Open this door!

Open this door!
Samantha!

-I make a lot of them.
-Open this door!

Come here, pillow.

Whoa!

-She took my daughter!
-Woman: Ma'am, please.

Was your daughter
ever out of your sight?

Oh, so, what,
I'm on trial now?

I also happen
to be very late,

and there's a damn
good chance I could
lose my job.

Yeah?

Man: Chicago Police.

Yeah, hang on!

One second.

Hey, what's going on?

-Are you James?
-Where have you been?

Ma'am, I need you to step back.
I need to ask a few questions.

Are you James?

Jimmy. James was my dad.
What's going on?

What's going on is
your girlfriend,
unable to contact you,

contacted 911.

Oh, shit.

The caller said you'd been
suffering from depression
and suicidal thoughts.

I have, but--

Anything I need
to worry about in here?

Uh, knives, weapons?

People really tell you--

Uh, no.

No, officer, uh,
no weapons.

Listen, my phone died,

and I don't have
suicidal thoughts.

She says you do.

Okay, yeah, I used to,
but, I mean,

I--I don't have them...
currently.

Perhaps the two of you
can talk this out?

Yeah, I think we need to.

Nice look.

Where have you been?

Uh, facing my fears?

You win?

I was wrong, Amy.

What?

It was "follow your bliss,"
not "follow your dreams."

I am not even
going to pretend

to know what
you are talking about.

You're right. Never mind.

Um... I'm sorry.

I should have called.

I don't care who or what

is helping you
with your "bliss."

Just, please,
understand that someone

cared enough
to come looking for you.

I'm sorry.

Let's both stop
saying that.

I am glad you're safe,

but... I can't
do this anymore.

Thank you.

Yeah, it's Jack.

I have to set up a meeting.

I'll deal with the poet myself.

Alright.

"An Explanation for
That Flock of Crows" plays]

has settled

and you lean back

its root-juicy kiss

Alright, alright, alright.

Tonight, we have back with us
a special guest.

And for those of you
who haven't heard him before,

no matter how many beers
you buy him,

or how many times
you question his veracity,

he's gonna tell you,
without fail,

-that he is Walt Whitman.
-

And for those of you
who have heard him before,

I have politely and
insistently asked him

not to read every stanza
of the Leaves of Grass,

but if you're a--but if you're
a glutton for punishment

or merely admire him,

you can catch him
after the show.

He'll read you every
poetic word he ever wrote.

So, welcome to the stage
Uncle Walt Whitman!

Thank you, Mark.

Whoever you are, I fear you are
walking the walks of dreams,

I fear these supposed realities

are to melt from
under your feet and hands

Even now your features,

speech, house, trade,

manners, troubles, follies,

costume, crimes,

dissipate away from you,

Your true soul and body
appear before me

They stand forth out of affairs,
out of commerce,

shops, work,

farms, clothes,

the house,

buying, selling,

eating, drinking,

suffering, dying

Whoever you are,

now I place my hand upon you,

that you be my poem,

I whisper with my lips
close to your ear,

I have loved many women and men,

but I love none better than you.

Well done, old friend.

Well done.

-Can I ask why?
-Maggie: I think--

I lost my job, and I'm feeling
a little lost, overall.

-If we need to adjust
the schedule--
-No.

-I know I signed an agreement--
-No, no.

You're free to end
the sessions at any time.

We have other sub--
other people.

But your level
of brain activity--

That's me.
Over-reactive brain.

No, hang on.
That's not true at all.

Please, I don't want
you to assume

that there's anything
wrong with you.

I do think
the sessions have helped.

Then why not continue?

Go home.
Think about it.

I've thought about it,
believe me.

A lot.

Can I ask you something?

Of course.

Do you remember
your dreams?

Sometimes.

Bits and pieces.

Why do you
think that is?

What do you mean?

Why remember dreams
when you're awake?

What do you think
we're supposed to do
with dream memories?

I'll have to
get back to you on that
when I learn more.

For now,
you have my email.

I hope you'll let me know
how things go.

Thank you, doctor.

Emily.

Call me Emily.

Jack: Walt!

Jack!

Jack Yancy!

You still got it,
old man.

As I live and breathe!

Dear friend.

Comrade in arms
against fear,

intolerance,
and nescience.

Let me get you
a belt, pal.

If you're inquiring
about another assignment,

you should make that
two libations, my friend.

Hey, Dave, can I have two
of whatever Mr. Whitman
is drinking these days?

How you been, buddy?
I haven't seen you
in a long, long time.

Battling mendacity.

Singing to those in need
of an old song made new.

The mendacious.

Walt, them pukes
are everywhere.

This is a tall order,
my friend.

But wait.

Before we speak
of work matters...

-...poetry!

Amen, Walt.

Man: This is called
"Ode to My Rideshare."

God help
this generation, Jack.

-Man: You, you,
you are my rideshare.
-Goddamned internet.

From the heart, son!

Speak it from the heart!

-Oh!
-I'm so sorry!

Wow.

"Wow"?

Yeah. yeah,
I'm gonna go ahead
and stick with "Wow."

That's...

Didn't we meet in a...

bookstore?

I think we did.

...Emily Dickinson.

-Good memory.
-Yeah.

And you have a friend
who dresses like a detective
from the '40s.

Jack.
Jack Yancy.

Wait,
did you talk to him?

I think I have his card
somewhere in here.

Uh, do you live around here?
I mean...

Do you have a name,
detective?

Sorry. Jimmy.

Maggie.

And no, I'm coming
from a job interview.

Oh. Is that a good thing
or a bad thing?

Well, if you don't have
another interview,

if you wanna come with me,
I'm just headed to the el.

Or not, you know, that's--

Yeah.

I'd like that.

Cool.

Jimmy: I have to admit this
is all still kind of strange.

Have you ever met anyone
from a dream before?

Oh, you think
I'm that kind of girl?

-No.
-Of course not.

Just you and
that detective.

By the way,

he told me you wanted
to know my name.

Oh, okay.
Well, um...

this got even
more awkward.

Remind me to
thank him for that.

Can I ask you
something?

I was talking
about dreams with
a friend the other day,

and I asked her why
she thought we remember

these bits
of our dreams,

rather than just
have them disappear
when we wake up.

Why remember
anything at all?

What did she say?

She didn't
have an answer.

You see that sign?

What sign?

Train station sign?

Yeah. How it just kind of
flashed right by us.

Maybe dreams are like
train station signs.

They just appear
to remind us

that we're going
the right way.

Headed in the right direction,
or warning us that we're not.

Do you think you're headed
in the right direction?

Given the dreams
that I've had recently?

Yeah.

Yeah, I think I am.

Tell me about your mural.

Aw, man.

I'm supposed to be
working here.

You are the owner
of this fine
establishment?

No, the owners hired me
to paint this mural.

Ah, a painter!

An artist!

A pleasure
to meet you, sirrah.

Walt Whitman.

The Walt Whitman?

Walt: It's a big world,
there may be others.

So, let's say
"a" Walt Whitman.

I see you have
already begun work.

My apologies

for micturating
so close by.

Have you been inside?

-No.
-Is it safe?

I've spent a good bit
of time here,

so, I certainly hope so!

Come.

Walt: Ah,
you Cathedrals of Commerce!

Maggie: Looks like they lost
a few of the faithful.

No. They simply
work and worship
from home.

The consumers
are more faithful
than ever.

What do they
plan on doing
with this place?

No idea.

I have dreamed
of this space
as a sanctuary.

For you?

The sky,
the clouds,

the open air
are my sanctuary.

No, a sanctuary for those

living amidst this epidemic

of fear and violence.

The owners told me

a medicine lodge
stood here once.

Of course, it did.

We live on the upper two inches
of this earth.

Imagine, a medicine lodge

beneath our feet,

rising up.

Life keeps breaking through.

In my lifetime,

we have
vanquished typhus

and smallpox

and other
deadly bacilli,

but we continue
to breed hate

and feed fear.

We compress it,

like gunpowder
in a shell casing.

You okay?

Do you want to talk about him?

For some strange reason,
I keep thinking about

that motorcycle
he used to talk about.

His father's motorcycle.

It was like a totem.

It had a power
over him.

Something
he always wanted,

and at the same time,
always feared.

And the more that
he talked about it,

I began to imagine

what that could mean

for me.

I imagine getting on
that motorcycle,

becoming a bird.

Flying down
Lakeshore Drive.

Andromeda: If those
who lead you say to you,

"See, the kingdom
is in the sky."

Then the birds of the sky
will precede you.

If they say it is in the sea,

then the fish will precede you.

Rather, the kingdom
is inside of you,

and it is outside of you.

When you come
to know yourselves,

then you will become known.

Have you decided on
a use for the building?

Or found a tenant?

Sugmuk: Not at the moment.

We're just beginning
reconstruction.

Jimmy told me this
was once the site
of a medicine lodge?

It is.

Say it.

I have an idea.

Walt: There was a child
went forth every day,

And the first object

he look'd upon,

that object he became.

And that object became
part of him for the day

Or a certain part of the day,

Or for many years

The early lilacs
became part of this child,

And grass

and white and red
morning-glories,

and white and red clover,

and the song
of the phoebe-bird,

or by the mire
of the pond-side,

And the fish
suspending themselves

so curiously below there,

and the beautiful
curious liquid

And the water-plants
with their graceful flat heads,

all became part of him.

His own parents,

he that had father'd him

and she that had conceiv'd him
in her womb

and birth'd him

They gave this child
more of themselves

than that,

They gave him
afterward every day,

They became part of him

The doubts of day-time

and the doubts of night-time,

the curious whether and how,

Whether that which
appears so is so,

Or is it all
flashes and specks?

Men and women
crowding fast in the streets,

if they are not
flashes and specks

what are they?

The streets themselves

and the facades of houses,
and goods in the windows,

Shadows,

aureoli and mist,

the light falling
on roofs and gables

of white

or brown

three miles off,

The strata of color'd clouds,

the long bar of maroon-tint

away solitary by itself,

the spread of purity

it lies motionless in,

The horizon's edge,

the flying sea-crow,

the fragrance of salt marsh
and shore mud,

These became part of that child

who went forth every day,

and who now goes, and will
always go forth every day.

You look good.

What's it been,
1,000 years?

It's a while.

Give this to Yancy.

I always honor my debts.

You give it to him.

He'll enjoy it more
coming from you.

Yeah. That's what
bothers me.

Why do you do it,
always bet against them?

That sort of goes on
my job description, no?

You have to admit,

I've had a few
notable successes.

But on the whole,

as a species--

Don't act
so innocent, Andromeda.

You're a big part
of my problem.

-Me?
-Come on.

There are good dreams,
bad dreams--

The very act of dreaming tells
them there's something more.

Beyond.

This city has changed.

Juke: Every city has changed.

Andromeda: They are
dreaming less and less.

Juke: A nation of insomniacs
is good for business.

Andromeda: I'm not worried.

The dreamers always manage
to find each other.

There's a nice, uh,
cafe up this way.

Okay, yeah.

There's bacon and eggs
for breakfast.

-Lunch, dinner--
-I could use a coffee.

-Oh, yeah, definitely.
-For sure.

What's up?

You know that guy?

Just met him once.

You wanna go in there
and say hi?

No.

-Um, once is more than enough.
-Okay.

"An Explanation for
That Flock of Crows" plays]

has settled

and you lean back

its root-juicy kiss

Without any maps

turned blue

thought of champagne

The lumps on your head

what my mother knows best

at a distance

bon-bon

for guests to admire

against your back door

you're enjoying yourself