Original subtitles

Stella, you caught me.

Interesting, isn't it?

Whenever I'm feeling lonely or rotten, I can just rip open one of these letters

and there it is.

Someone's soul laid out before me there.

Their darkest dreams, their hopes and their fears.

Now listen to this one.

Firemen. Have you ever noticed how good looking most of them are?

And strong.

And committed.

And brave.

October 12th.

Dear diary, the dogs and cats were jumpy today.

I was too.

It's kind of like that feeling you get before an earthquake or a plane crash.

Sort of a low -grade fever.

A prickly itch underneath the skin.

Even Dr. Martin was not his usual self.

It could have been the Santa Anas.

The full moon.

The overall effects of global warming.

Whatever.

That weird feeling was getting more palatable with each passing moment.

The freeway was jammed on the way home, so I got off on Sepulveda, got lost,

and ended up on streets I never knew existed.

I tried to remember ever being held that way.

Only once, maybe.

I was two or three, and I had the croup, and my dad held me in his arms and

walked back and forth.

And even though it was late and he was tired, he just kept walking and singing

until the sun came up and the cough went away.

That night, when I finally fell asleep, I dreamt of water

and of fire and the fireman.

Water.

Sometimes I dream I'm floating in water.

floating with my arms outstretched with nothing around me.

No sound.

Nothing.

I woke up in the middle of the night, covered with sweat, burning with shame.

Most of my life, I've stayed calm and cool by avoiding personal questions.

Today, I had to work doubly hard not to ask myself anything.

And most of all, not to give any answers.

Sit down.

You're hot.

I... Open your mouth.

I... Just put your head back a little bit.

Bet you didn't know I was a real medical doctor, did you?

Yeah,

I practiced for a while.

But I wasn't cut out for putting up with people.

We'll definitely coming down with something.

Why don't you take the rest of the day off?

Feel better, you come back tomorrow.

Dr. Martin gave me the day off.

I should have gone to the library.

But just for the heck of it, I drove by the fire station instead.

I was sort of like that dog that bit Dr.

Martin.

I just couldn't let go.

Still, questions kept crowding into my head.

Like, was there ever a time when I felt what he was feeling?

Proud and strong and totally triumphant.

Had I ever run like the wind?

Had I ever known danger?

Had I ever taken a step into the unknown?

When was the last time I was close enough to fire to get burned?

October 14th.

Dear diary, last night was no different from the night before.

Dreams of water.

Dreams of fire.

Dreams of the fireman.

Over and over again.

Hello?

Hello, Dr. Mudd.

Yeah, I'm still...

I'll just

lay low for a while.

Thank you for your concern.

No more questions.

Only answers, unwanted, unexpected, came flooding down

on me.

The last time I was dizzy was when I was five and blindfolded and someone was

spinning me around to pin the tail on the donkey.

The last time I faced the danger of the unknown was when I was six and my sister

dared me to go down into the fruit cellar without a flashlight.

The last time I got close enough to get burned by fire was when I was eight.

and I was lighting Christmas candles.

Have I seen you before?

The library.

Vegetarian restaurant over on Peacock.

Saturday afternoon, Bible Club.

Great place for a nice girl like you to be alone.

dreams of water, dreams of fire.

Maybe it was the fever that made me do it.

I don't know.

Thank you.

I wondered how many people were making love at that same time.

Thousands and thousands.

Millions, maybe.

Mouths together.

Bodies together.

Hearts beating in time.

Two people together in restaurants and restrooms and beds and cars.

On couches and under tables.

On park benches.

In bushes under the stars.

Am I the only one alone?

The other day... Yeah?

When you were talking about how you weren't cut out for treating people and

liked animals instead.

Yeah.

Well, I was wondering why.

Well, first of all, animals don't bite as hard as people do.

Their scars don't take so long to heal.

You know what I mean?

And second of all, animals don't talk back.

Who do they shame?

Don't you sometimes wish they did?

I mean, wouldn't it be nice if Sam could tell you what's bothering him?

I mean, it'd be so simple if you could just say, how are you doing, Sam? And

could say, well, I've got a sharp pain in my heart.

You don't look sick.

You look different.

You look good.

I feel fine.

That's two blocks away.

Dreams of water.

Dreams of fire.

I thought about my life stretching ahead like a desert.

No hearts on fire for me.

No blaze of glory.

That's the trouble with deserts.

Just heat waves and hills that all look alike.

You climb one hill and there's another.

And pretty soon you're saying, I don't know if I can keep this up.

Something's got to give.

dreams of water, dreams of fire, dreams of the

fireman.

Dreams of water.

Dreams of fire.

Dreams of the firemen.

Over and over again.

This must have been what I was sensing all along.

Not an earthquake, or the ozone breakup, or the riots, or the global warming.

But something breaking and quaking and rioting and warming inside of me.

Like I had no idea I was a peeping Tom.

Or a voyeur.

Or a hypochondriac, for that matter.

But I was.

And that surprised me.

And pleased me.

And made me happy.

And I figured there was no place else to go.

And nothing left to do.

And I couldn't stop myself.

And so I did the craziest thing of all.

I, uh...

I know it's early, and I know it sounds crazy, but I just... No, I don't want

you to be alarmed.

My fever seems to be gone.

I'm feeling fine, I just... I'm sorry for waking you.

I just... I was thinking... I mean, I was wondering...

I mean, I was hoping maybe...

Do you want to talk?

Well, that's one way to go about getting what you want, Stella.

Fighting fire with fire.

What do you think, Stella?

Good work?