Original subtitles

It's all about starting at the beginning.

But that's not how I remember it.

It's all a series of… fragments…

repetitions…

pattern formations.

When there are no words for the pain,

let your imagination change what you've known to plan,

and then let it land in the freedom of water.

Her ring around a rock is luck in the smoke.

Red rock is Earth blood.

You believe in blue.

Remember it?

Our stories?

Say, you better come up with one you can live with.

Smelly face.

Flower.

Christmas tree.

Stop.

Claudia, go upstairs.

Go!

Move!

You just let me know when you finish.

We can do this all night.

Fuck!

I think it'd feel nice, Claudia.

I really think it will.

Fix you right up.

Fix you right up.

Sing with me Belle.

♪ Oh m' darling, oh m' darling ♪

♪ Oh my darling, Clementine… ♪

Come on Lidabelle, sing with me.

You know all the lyrics.

♪ You lost and gone forever… ♪

It was my voice

that left.

Sometimes I think it arrived on paper.

I wrote pictures,

true things,

lies.

Interchangeably.

Made me feel like… someone else.

—for Chrissake!

I wrote words to belong to.

That is your daughter!

No, daughter.

To swim.

To safety.

To girls.

Make my skin hot,

my head hurt, my—

Mother.

Her hair.

Her skull.

Her story.

I won a prize for that story Belle.

And your daddy…

won an art prize for this drawing.

How gone she was.

My sister.

My adoration.

My sister.

My awe.

I mean you look like a—

a bum in that dumpy sack shirt.

It does nothing for you.

Look at me.

You trying to look like a man?

My sister.

Taking everything.

Before you were even born.

In the house.

Alone in my room.

My arms ache.

My sister is gone.

My mother is…

gone.

My father designs houses in the room next to mine.

I wait for 5AM.

I pray.

To swim.

My baby girl.

Growing up so fast.

Teenager.

In High-school.

I can't believe it.

Alright, line up ladies. Weigh in.

You know the drill:

one lick for every pound you're over.

Torres?

Atta' girl.

That's right.

There you go.

Reimer… three pounds.

Faster.

Come on, baby.

Harder.

Yuknavitch!

One for you, freshman.

So we'll make it count.

How many miles does it take,

to swim…

to a self?

How many

fucking

miles?

You set a record!

So you really want this, huh?

Okay.

You only got a three-quarter ride.

Hey, if they wanted you they would've

offered the whole nine yards, huh?

"We're delighted to offer a partial scholarship."

Half.

You're better than that.

Last one.

In my head I swam laps.

Didn't even get one full ride.

Hey, don't blame me.

If they don't want you, then you don't belong there.

I could taste blood.

The answer is no.

Why?

Because he could.

What?

And I was his.

Hey.

Look at me.

Look at me.

I only want the best for you.

You know that.

I knew he could feel it.

That pink muscle…

pushing.

And pushing.

You should all be out there warming up.

For all of its worth.

Hey, Lidia.

Do you need a hand?

I'm a coach from Texas Tech.

I'm excited to meet you.

Let's talk.

I'd like to have you on our team.

I almost loved her.

There's a gold bell.

—you hear me?

That's fucking disgusting Lidia.

You should be ashamed of your—

Lidia!

This is control.

I am controlling myself.

You don't know how far I can go.

My bedroom holds the wet, and the dark of my body.

It smells like my sweat.

And chlorine.

Hey.

Can't sleep, huh?

Yeah, me neither.

Come here.

I want to talk to you.

Listen, I'm sorry I've been so hard on you lately.

I guess I just…

really worry about you out there.

Things I'm going to be different when you go to college.

I want you to listen to me.

He narrated what boys would do to me.

How they put their dirty hands up my skirt

and finger fuck me.

Fondle my tits.

Suck them.

How disgusting boys would be.

Their hands.

Their hips wanting in and up.

And their dicks.

And his.

Me sitting next to him.

Feeling the heat of him.

Without even looking.

What you doing out here?

What's the a matter with you, huh?

I want you to hold that up.

I love you.

You're a fucking whore.

You got something to say to me?

Huh?

Can you move the fuck out—

What did y—

What did you just say?

Fuck you.

Motherfucker.

Get this fuck out of my way!

All I thought…

was my own wide open cunt.

As open as a mouth.

Screaming.

Mother—

mother—

mother—

fucker.

I didn't know a girl body could do that.

Shoot cum.

My own thoughts.

Mine.

My own space, my own clothes.

My own days, my own nights.

Mine.

My own sex.

My own food, my own fault.

My own friends.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

My own freedom.

Like something pressed so far down in a body…

it had to explode.

Yuck!

Where do you think you're going?

I know you.

You're going nowhere.

♪ Dwelt a miner, forty-niner ♪

♪ And his daughter, Clementine ♪

♪ Oh my darling, oh my darling ♪

♪ Oh my darling, Clementine ♪

♪ You are lost and gone forever ♪

So far from my father.

So far.

So far from my father…

So far from my father.

I love your hands.

I love your voice.

It's my father and my brother who have the real voices.

I always hear them in my head.

Really?

What are they saying?

They're singing Amazing Grace.

Voices of God.

Fuck me.

Yeah?

Yeah, really.

Fuck me.

Poor Phillip.

I wish I could go back and apologise.

♪ The way it's been going ♪

♪ And I know the peace will come. ♪

Fuck all y'all!

Eat me!

♪ I've been a-searching ♪

♪ For the dolphins ♪

It's just a regular James Taylor,

singing his heart out here in Texas.

♪ And sometimes I wonder ♪

♪ Do you ever ♪

♪ Think of me? ♪

♪ This world may never change ♪

♪ The way it's been going ♪

♪ And I know the peace will come ♪

Lidia.

Why do you always do that?

It's funny, come on!

It's funny you feel it—

You're such a pussy.

Come on—I was—

Learn how to take a joke.

You're so fucking sensitive.

This is probably one of the most pathetic things I've ever seen.

This is what I'm…

This is what I'm talking about, it's like…

it's like talking to a fucking doorknob.

Why don't you say something?

Will you say anything?

I'm being a fucking bitch,

so why don't you do something about it?

You're not a bitch.

Fuck you, Phillip!

You don't even fucking know me Phillip.

Phillip

means lover of horses…

God damn.

…or brotherhood.

Wake up, motherfucker!

Hey, Lids.

Wanna' get out of here?

She's good, I'll take her back.

Hey, man.

Just shut that door.

Just shut the goddamn door.

I haven't seen you at practice.

Yeah, I flunked out.

That's cool.

Huh?

I can still feel my face.

Addiction is in me, for sure.

But I want to describe something else to you.

Something smaller.

It's a smaller word.

Mama?

So small, I could travel to bloodstream.

Go away, Belle.

Go away, Belle.

Stay away…

This isn't anything for you…

I'm not talking about anything.

I'm not talking about anything.

I'm not talking about anything.

Dorothy?

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Yeah.

Lidia.

You can talk to us.

It helps.

Trust me.

I'm not talking about anything.

You know, I always like to say, uh…

find meaning in life's traffic,

through clearing spiritual barriers.

I'm proud of you.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Yeah.

Hey.

Would you marry me?

Okay.

♪ And children have their dreams to hold on to ♪

♪ And how they fly, take us to the moon ♪

♪ Yes, they flow from you. ♪

♪ They flow from you. ♪

♪ And they flow from you. ♪

♪ And women have themselves to hold on to. ♪

♪ And how they fly, take me by surprise. ♪

♪ They float from me. ♪

♪ They float from me. ♪

♪ And they float from me. ♪

You did so good.

You did so good.

I made you some tea.

I don't want any tea.

What are we going to do?

Lidia,

I love you.

And whatever you want to do, I'll support it.

That's it?

I need more than nothing from the most passive man on the fucking planet.

Sorry, I've been kind of sick.

You don't want anything,

and you are killing me with or not wanting anything.

What were you thinking?

I don't know.

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

It's fucking impossible.

I can't stand how nice he— I can't stand how nice he is, but…

I couldn't have killed it either.

I was thinking of…

maybe there's a world in which I…

I come and…

live with you and Eugene, and take some classes where you're teaching and…

I don't know, maybe we could start like a little…

family.

- Yes. - Because I think my—

I think my life with him is going to be like some sad, sad fucking country song.

- And I—I—this is the only thing… - Lidi, Lidia.

- This is the only thing that I could— - I—I said yes.

Come home.

Okay.

Cool.

Because she left me once

to save her own life.

What are you two doing back there, huh?

Playing with yourselves?

What?

I bring them to the most beautiful scenery in the world, and…

and they're just playing grab-ass?

Look out the goddamn window!

Claudia.

Grab the hack saw from under your mother's seat.

Come on!

Let's go.

Here you go, sweetheart.

For sustenance.

For sustenance.

You don't want it?

Come on, honey, just have a little sip, it'll warn you.

Mmm!

Well thank God.

Where's the tree?

There.

That's the picture.

Welcome home.

Come on in.

I'll get that.

Why, because I'm pregnant?

Yeah.

- Here. - Thanks.

Fuck.

Thank you, Claudia.

Do you remember when you used to make me do things?

Like…

Here!

Bite this apple.

And you'd just sock it out my mouth.

Here, smell this ashtray.

Just blow it.

One,

two,

ashes all over my fucking face.

I would have done anything.

You were mythic to me.

I remember when I went downstairs after you moved into the basement.

And I realised how smart that was then, but…

I used to look at all of your stuff and used to touch it.

One time I found a razor blade in your purse, cut myself on it.

Made the fact that I had to pee hurt.

I, um…

I know that this is a… sacrifice.

No, what?

It's just you—

You were so little.

Yeah.

Well…

This is one way to Frankenstein your life.

Maybe…

I've been waiting for this.

Yes.

Breathe.

I know.

You…

can…

do it.

Where is she?

Can I hold her?

Ah, yeah.

Her lips are pink.

They're pink.

Just…

throw it as far as you can.

It's not funny.

Get it.

Sorry.

Look,

she's all over you.

You're a fucking liar.

What lived and died between us…

haunts me…

still.

Goddamn, girl.

What are you, some kind of a mermaid?

Yup.

You got something to say?

No way.

Come on!

You deserve this.

You don't want to come with me?

This is crazy, I'm not even a grad student.

I'm basically just trolling the English department.

You think Kesey gives a rat's ass about U of O rules?

- You will regret not doing this. - They won't even let me enrol.

Bullshit, I already told them about you.

The—

These…

He's gonna love you.

You don't want to write a novel with Ken Kesey?

Hey, everyone.

Um, hey everybody, hey.

You're an idiot.

Hi. Um, this is Lidia.

- Say hi. - Hi.

Well, hello.

What do we have here?

A triple-A tootsie?

I know what happened to you.

Death is a motherfucker.

Shit.

Jeff, you think you can roll one?

I always hate you sitting in a room full of writers.

Sure.

The chair will be fine.

I want you all…

I want you all to be winners.

I want you to be warriors.

Warriors.

I'll give you the warrior test.

Ship floats.

Cream rises.

Ship floats.

Jerry Rubin.

Cream rises.

Fron Getty.

Lord Buckley.

Lenny Bruce.

The greats.

I want you to be great.

Shit, somebody…

has got to create our culture for the next 50 years, and I want it to be you.

Alright, there are only two rules.

One: do not talk the plot of our novel to anyone outside this class.

Two: I comprise 50% of the class,

so we only write together,

because we will publish or perish together.

Nelson Algren said:

"The job of the writer, is to pull the judge down onto the dock."

"To make the almighty feel what it's like to be down low."

He'll be alright.

Grass never kill anybody.

So, go.

Write now.

Write some bizarre sentences.

Hey! Where are you?

You can't take quaalude before the class.

Now, disappear into your imagination.

Come on!

Disappear into your imagination.

Nobody's in the room, but you and that pen.

Here you are.

This is the shit.

I wrote Demon Box in here.

This room here, is a creative room here.

It's a creative space.

Hey Bennet, you didn't bring the ludes with you, did ya?

You know, those kind of drugs put you into your body, not into your mind.

Stick with the acid, psilocybin, St. Pedro.

Something that'll disintegrate your ego, so you can hear your inner-voice…

…when you write from that voice…

…you want your voice to come through you…

Oh, Jesus.

That's not supposed to happen.

I got restless knees.

Alright.

Let's get outside before the sun descends.

I want you to meet someone.

Come on.

Fuck you, God.

God got the commandments wrong.

I think there's 11 commandments.

And it should be the first commandment:

have mercy!

- Hey. - Lord, have mercy!

Just think if everybody had mercy for each other, where we'd be today.

You see a man in the street, needs a few dollars: give it to him.

Give it to him, have mercy, he needs it.

He wouldn't ask for it if he didn't need it.

Mercy.

Hire me to rewrite…

the Bible.

What are you, some kind of mermaid?

Yep.

You know when Jed died, my boy,

I wanted this cease to exist.

And everybody that talked to me said something asinine.

Lord, I didn't say anything at all.

Nobody understands death anymore.

We used to be sacred.

So sacred.

Oh, shit.

No one's big enough to hold what happens to us.

No one is big enough to hold what happens to us.

You got something to say?

It's in your hands.

Everything about my father was in his hands.

It's all about coordination.

A perfectly balanced dance of…

shadow and light.

Before my father was my father,

he was an artist.

And your daddy…

won a prize for this drawing.

Before my father was an artist,

he was an athlete.

Before my father was my father,

he was beautiful.

And she was.

Before my father was my father,

he was a boy.

Just a boy.

Who's own mother…

cut his tongue.

Before I hated him.

I loved him.

Look up.

You know, if you don't look where you're going, you're gonna' crash, you hear me?

When you get to the bottom of the hill, you just break enough to make a turn.

Okay?

Go.

Keep your eyes on the road.

Keep going.

Keep your head up.

Mike?

Mike?

Mike!

- Get a flash light! - What for?

- I think she's hurt down there. - What?

What happened?—

Just shut the goddamn door.

You done with that chapter?

Hey.

Hello.

I'm a writer.

Thank you.

Thank you.

We are gathered because, we want to see the results.

We want to witness the results of this experiment.

A collaborative novel written by us.

Please, let's welcome the first of the

the first of the not-so-merry pranksters to the stage to present:

Caverns.

Lidia!

Come on up.

Give 'em a show.

Hello.

- Behind my knee. You too? - There you go.

- And his crack. - Thank you.

Back of my knees, and then it's like—

Lidia's father.

What can I say? I'm a great admirer of yours.

Mike, is that right?

That's right.

Glad you could make it.

Lidia and I, we saw a Cuckoo's Nest and uh,

Sometimes a Great Notion together, and it's—it's just great.

Great books.

You know, my…

Lidia, here?

She can knock it out of the park.

Do you want me to sign that?

Thanks for coming, Dad.

Okay.

Too… Mike?

Please.

"Too Mike."

"Be…"

"brave."

There you go, Mike.

There you go.

Yep.

I've seen a lot of writers come and go.

And you've got this stuff.

I've got something for ya.

Here.

Here.

He's comes from the most spiritual beach on Earth.

Hold that.

You're gonna hold it all.

You're gonna hold it all, girl.

So…

So what's next?

- Next? - Next.

What is next, next?

I wanna write the Sound and the Fury.

Of course you do.

Oh boy.

Throw it, see if I can catch it.

- Ready? - Yeah.

- Ah! - Shit.

- Had a lot riding on that going in. - Yeah.

It has no metaphor.

Okay.

Fuck metaphors.

- Okay. - It's just a rock that fell.

Yeah.

I'm gonna give the rock and I'm gonna go pee.

Alright.

Oh yeah, there we go.

You got it.

That was the last time I saw him.

You can write girl.

I'm of the opinion that he drowned.

Caddy wants to fuck.

She's insatiable.

And because her neighbour boy man has a giant pants bulge

and a sound that comes out of him instead of language,

she goes over to his house, and she removes all of her clothes

so he finally fucks her.

And… crushes her.

He fucks her to death and she loves it.

And she laughs until she cries, and an ambulance has to come,

but it's too late.

That is the Sound and the Fury.

Trite.

Look, I've already read the Sound and the Fury.

Reworking Faulkner is some college shit.

Maybe try something original.

God.

I hate them.

Hey.

What the hell does he know?

It is original.

It's a fucking pastiche.

Hey!

Hey!

You wanna go to the coast? I got us a room.

Hi, Hannah.

We're actually gonna work on these this weekend—

Yeah right, come on.

Is your fly undone?

Lids—

What is that?

I fucking dare you.

Come on.

Anything.

Anytime.

Anywhere.

Please be careful.

To feel absolutely nothing.

I'm gonna grab some firewood.

Don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Is this like a…

a fuck trip?

What?

I've never… I've never ate pussy.

I wanted to stay like that.

Outside of any word.

You okay?

I love you, Lids.

I really love you.

I'll see you later.

In water,

like in books,

you can leave your life.

I got it!

No, I got—

I remember a happy childhood.

Come on, come on!

We dive, we swim, we race, we…

Lidia went fast that time.

…we laugh like other people's children.

I remember first and last names, like Evie Kosenkranius and

Lynn Collella Bell.

Lynn Collella Bell, Lynn Collella Bell…

Making song loops in my skull.

♪ Lynn Colle— ♪

♪ Lynn Collella Bell ♪

Mono?

Isn't that the kissing disease?

No, don't be silly.

Everything's gonna be okay, Belle. You'll see.

You're gonna feel better.

And your dad's gonna take real good care of you.

Aren't ya?

- We'll be alright. - Okay, Mama's gonna go sell some houses.

Hey, honey.

My baby girl.

You just give it a couple of days.

It is language letting me say…

There ya go.

…how four weeks can years.

It is the yielding expanse of a white page.

Have you shown these to anyone?

No.

It's getting, scarves.

People always ask me why my work is so dark.

What do you know about pain, Lidia?

Um…

I know that…

it matters to me.

I'm gonna take care of you.

Do you understand?

Now, ask me for what you want.

Um…

That's not right, Angel.

Um…

Um…

I… want… you too…

Hmm?

Knock it out of me.

To whip me.

Where would you like to be whipped?

Angel?

Everywhere.

Take it somewhere.

Take the pain somewhere.

Mama…

I am proud of you.

I'm not trying to creep you out.

I'm trying to be precise.

At the moment, my mother was whining,

daddy was smelling my cunt.

"I've reached my best moment now," he explained.

Now I was sure what he was referring to.

This is the moment of truth.

"I'm going off, off, off, jacking it off."

"My hands are gonna be broken from this one."

I don't even recognise my own body.

It doesn't matter.

"I know you're mine."

"I made you, I'm making you."

"I swore I'd live for pleasure."

"My tongue is fucking enormous, feel it."

It's reaching down to my waist.

You're seeing your actual father in his moment of truth.

God Almighty, nothing matters.

"You're my God."

"My daughter."

"I worship you."

"I beg you to do it so I can please you."

"Now look at it, it's big in my corkscrewing hand."

"Kiss it."

My father explained again,

"I am fucking God and I made God."

"Holy shit."

"All I have to do is look at God and God is happy."

"Because I've made God cum."

"God is in heaven. I'm in heaven."

"And I've died. The whole world in heaven."

"I'm coming all over your face."

I licked up his sperm—

This is making me sick.

Who in the hell do you think you are?

My father's daughter.

Goddammit.

Year one.

Vodka!

I drink vodka, mostly all the time.

And felt nothing about myself.

We drank, we laughed.

We make fucked body paint shadows.

We make performance art.

We perform ourselves.

Fuck you doing!?

We carve each other's names into our bodies.

We fuck septic.

You're right in front of me there, and I can see that was happening.

- You don't even realise… - I don't ever realise what?

- I don't even— - Realise I have to fucking marry you.

To my contour team.

I'm so happy they f—

To escape to year six.

My underwater stories start itching.

And yelling begins a rhythm where drinking gets louder and—

Go back to kissing women I know and kissing women I don't know.

And what is a couple over time but a line?

I'll show you the fucking line.

Your fucking bullshit is taking over the house!

It was taking over the house.

Oh, no.

Oh, no…

oh, no.

The fuck—

I don't wanna fuck.

I want to read.

Fuck you.

I didn't want to drink.

I wanted to write.

Just a couple over time…

Year seven of the finish my dissertation.

Year eight, I got a PhD.

Year ten,

you pretend.

You said that…

Huh?

…you would love me until I die.

You said we would die together in love.

You said it to me.

Where are you?

Huh?

Where is the man…

…who would love a woman like me?

Don't you dare.

"…the date of your reading…"

What?

…Lidia Yuknavitch.

Lidia, please.

Welcome.

The day my daughter was born.

After I held the future.

Still born.

And pink.

And rose-lipped—

And rose-lipped in my shivering arms.

Little tragedies are difficult to keep straight.

Chronology convinces us we are moving toward a real place.

Swimmers to your marks.

A gunshot.

A gunshot released our tense flesh.

Fathers were often uncontainable while the little women swam for their lives.

Swim.

Swim.

Hurry.

Come on, baby.

Harder.

Harder.

Faster.

A cacophony of men swelling and pressing down on the wet motion.

How many times did I slip into the chlorinated depths,

secretly hoping to shed this useless skin and emerge something…

amphibious.

And without gender.

This thing is…

this letting everything in,

and waiting to see what comes out…

is creepy.

And idiotic.

It's starting to piss me off

that I have to even think about that hole.

What I am saying is…

there is a woman in a room, who is tired of looking down.

And bleeding.

And…

bearing and itching.

And aching.

And tired of remaining open,

with no hope of suturing herself up.

It isn't that I want it gone.

It's that…

I want, wanting…

to come from somewhere else.

There are moments between years, that surface with great force.

Remind me why we're here?

I thought this was your idea.

I came here with you.

Delusion.

Grown women are idiots.

I don't know…

She begged.

I changed my name.

Mike?

Lidia! Lidia!

Lidia! Lidia!

Mike! Lidia!

Lidia!

- Turn him over! - Come help me!

Kill.

Or suck the killing back.

And pump it,

into this story of someone else.

My father lost his memory from hypoxia that day.

I did not kill him.

I did not save him.

I am learning to live on land.

Um…

Thanks, yeah that—that's it…

Have your parents read this story? And what do they think—

Mm-hmm.

Enjoy New York! You're going to get an agent—

Lidia, it's so nice to meet you. Thank you for being here.

Excuse me.

Do you have anything, um…

stronger?

Thanks.

Carol Houck Smith, Norton Publishing.

It's pretty impressive what you did up there.

Thank you.

No, really.

It didn't look easy.

Tell me…

is there any more where that came from?

Something a little wider?

You should send me something.

It's just that…

something in me had been born…

still.

It's a small sin we carry.

Shame of wanting something good.

…my life!

Hey, what are you doing?

Keep it moving.

Hi.

Chopping block.

Peer review.

Who wants to go first?

Oh, I'm sorry, that's really helpful.

And you know, you can't live the wrong life.

You really can't, it's a story you were told.

Your one is just as important, it's your own, you have to—

It has to hurt, but I'm excited for you.

Something small and specific caught in my eye.

An important detail:

a bruise on the bridge of her nose.

Letting me know that her eyes were blue, like mine.

Hey!

How much?

I pay her pimp a hundred dollars.

I ask her in.

I tell her to sit down.

In the story, I say…

This is what it feels like to be me.

A woman who teaches English.

Looking down at a woman who sucks dicks all day,

as she sits on my couch.

Smoking.

When I look at her, I think she looks like Mary.

Whenever I see an image of Christ, I picture Mary so drawn and gaunt,

and tired and angry to the point of emaciation that she can barely wear her own face.

In the story, I say…

"What am I gonna do?"

"Teach her?"

This is what me, an addict, upwardly mobile,

given something as infinitesimally small as words to believe in, thinks.

I'm looking at her.

Offer words.

People will say to me all the time,

"did the things in your short stories actually happen?"

Isn't that the…

the question?

When it comes to life?

Did this really happen to me?

Andy.

I don't know.

The things that happen to us are true.

But writing…

is a whole other body.

I was hoping we could discuss my manuscript.

Oh, of course.

Yeah.

I also want to loan you my car.

Saw you were taking the bus, and…

I happen to have two cars.

Hey.

You can tell a lot about a person from seeing them in the water.

Thank you.

For what?

For letting me swim with you.

I've read a couple of your stories,

I know that swimming is a big deal.

I always let my students choose the venue.

You know, I wanted to say I've seen you a couple times before.

Yeah, I read about Ken Kesey teaching at U of O when I was abroad,

and I applied to the program, but it already happened.

- No shit, so… - Yeah, I know.

And I've seen you stomping around the creative writing department.

I was in the reading you gave at Gerlinger.

Oh, it's…

that's weird.

It's weird.

That was a weird day for me.

Why?

My father.

Was—my f…

my father…

Your father?

Was abusive.

Your father…

how so?

Sexual.

Oh.

It sucks.

I hope something karmically fucking happened to him.

Yeah.

Kind of, actually, it did.

Excellent then.

It was a long time ago,

I was a totally different person then.

So who are you now?

I'm your teacher.

You can teach you how to take my car.

I don't quite know how to tell you what it feels like.

Watching the little woman swim for her life.

I mean…

Are you fucking insane?

No.

You think I'm someone else.

I can see the mother in you.

There's more to your story than you think.

- Very nice. - Yeah.

Very nice.

We're just going to go this way sir, other way.

What about the room?

- They said it would be ready tomorrow, for sure. - Okay.

That must have been a weird ride.

Thank you.

You don't ever have to say 'thank you' to me.

I'm good.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Hi, Dad.

Marilou?

No, it's me, it's Lidia.

I know that, kiddo.

I read that book.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah.

Do you know who wrote it?

Yeah.

You.

That's right.

Did you read all of the stories?

I…

There was one about swimming.

I like that.

Thank you.

Not very flattering of me, though.

That's fair enough.

You know, I won a prize for that story.

And I got to go to New York.

Well, isn't that something, huh?

It's beautiful here.

It's a real home you have here.

Well done.

Well done, you.

The safest memories are locked away in the brains of people you can't remember.

Oh, get her Mike, get her Mike!

…you know I don't…

Underwater forever.

There you go pal.

Look, I'm doing 'wimming!

What's wrong?

The water will go in my…

my nose, and ears and into my brain.

Ah, Miles?

How many times

have you seen mama swimming and swimming laps?

Lots of times, right?

Have you ever…

noticed that I've never got water in my brain?

Water's never gone into my brain.

You wanna see?

Watch this.

Tell me how much water goes in my brain, okay?

See?

I have a very important game.

I'm gonna put my whole head underwater.

Okay.

And we look at each other underwater.

- What game is this? - I made it up.

The key is…

make up shit.

I'm not speaking out of my asshole when I say this:

Come in.

The water will hold you.