Original subtitles

COMMONPLACES

A) 'THE DIFFUSE MURDERER' B) 'WHAT NEVER CAME TO BE'

'NOTEBOOK. '

'Writers write.

Whoever wants to learn how to write, may become...

a person who can write,

but they'll never get to be writers'.

As per Raymond Chandler's saying then,

I am a writer, for I write.

I'd need to know if I do it well...

and if I have a style of my own.

Style is not sought. You either have it or you don't,

and you'll never know why.

Nobody will know better than I if I write well:

I make a living of it,

I live on criticizing, and analyzing what others write.

I teach literature.

My intimate self-despise nourishes my self-criticism.

I will not need the approval of an editor.

If what I'm starting to write today is rubbish,

or just standard, or lacks the quality...

I seek when reading somebody else's writing,

which has always left me wanting for more,

then this manuscript will never find the elegance

of Garamond or the vulgarity of any other font.

Maybe Lili will read it, or perhaps a friend will,

or perhaps my son.

I'll be content with Lili's reading:

I write for her and on account of her.

I don't know if what is happening to us...

is worth telling.

I don't know if there is a story in it,

or if it will be just a diary, or a notebook.

I know there is disorder, disappointment, confusion.

There is a country that is destroying us,

a world that throws us out,

a diffuse murderer who kills us day after day,

without our realizing it.

I don't have an answer.

I write from chaos in sheer darkness.

Got a 15-day leave. Summer courses got me...

going for the last two years.

And they say teachers earn too little.

Shouldn't complain: leave of absence and...

then off to Madrid, what about that...?

We'll spend almost as much as here.

Didn't pay for our tickets, though, my son sent them.

Does not pay for them either, works at a computer company...

they make him travel a lot, he earns points and miles.

- Here you are, professor. - Thanks.

So he gets free tickets.

- How long are you staying? - About a week, or ten days.

You're lucky to have a son who sends you free tickets.

My daughter chose to follow in our footsteps,

so no Europe for us!

Morning, professor. Wait!

- You knew about this. - No, I didn't at all.

It's the Ministry's. The decree was signed...

about a month ago, and if they downsize Education,

they'll need to lay people off or have them retire.

Well, tough luck about you...

Tough luck, or is it a black list?

I didn't apply for retirement.

No, they know that. That's why it says 'ex officio retirement'.

No black lists here, it could have been anyone.

Country is going down the drain, if Government has no money,

we're all fucked. What can you do?

Can't reject it, I can apply for a three-year permanence.

Three years, with optional renewal after that.

That way, the Rector will be the one to accept it or not.

But, why don't you just take it as it is?

You won't have trouble in finding another job,

if you really needed one.

- I don't need your advice. - Want some coffee?

So tell me you won't go on with it, but cut the crap.

I don't say 'no', but there'll be lots of issues,

to take into account for that: honesty, capacity, ideology...

- That's the weak point. - No, no. We're all entitled...

to our thoughts and beliefs. But you over-react sometimes.

I speak my mind.

Of course, I don't censor you. Sometimes you're not objective.

That's where you fail me.

Opinion can't help being subjective.

Objects are objective, and so are Rectors.

So who are you, Robles?

For they'll request a profile of yours,

but really, I can't think of a definition:

you are not a Peronist, not a Radical, nothing.

What can I write on the report? Anarchist, Marxist, leftist?

It sounds outdated.

Better say all I am not: I am not inept, or corrupt,

I was not placed here by someone, as you were.

Come on, man. Our not seeing...

eye to eye gives you no right to insult me.

It's not that we don't see eye to eye.

You can't think.

Your brain is totally unaware of 'thought'.

Put your notes away.

We won't discuss Rayuela.

If who haven't finished reading it, you may do so.

But read it thoroughly, don't be deceived by...

Cortazar's form and humor: it is the wildest love story.

- Anyone have a smoke? - Here you are.

Hope it pleases you as much as it pleased me.

If reading it doesn't move you, then you lose.

A light?

Thanks.

- So can we smoke? - Yes.

By next year, most of you'll be professors.

You don't know much about literature,

but you know enough to get started as teachers.

I'm not concerned about that.

I want you to remember that teaching means showing.

Show, not indoctrinate. Provide information,

but also provide and teach, the method for understanding,

assessing, reasoning, and questioning information.

If you are a mental retard believing in revealed truths,

religious dogma, political doctrine, you'd better...

take up preaching at a temple, or a stand.

Now, if you're unlucky enough to stick to this,

remember to leave superstition outside class.

Don't make your students learn anything by heart.

It's no use. What's imposed will be forgotten, rejected.

A kid won't be a better person just for knowing...

when Cervantes was born.

Make it your goal to teach them how to think,

have them doubt, have them inquire.

Don't value your students based on their answers.

Answers are not true, they seek a truth that will be only relative.

The best questions are those repeated since the age of...

ancient Greek philosophers. Many of them are now cliches,

commonplaces, but even so still valid: What? How?

Where? When? Why?

If we admit here that 'the way is in the goal',

then our answer won't do.

It describes the tragedy of life but it won't explain it.

There is a mission, a mandate I want for you.

A mission nobody has ever assigned on you,

but I hope that you, in your role as teachers,

will undertake it as your own.

Make your students awaken to the pain of lucidity.

Without limitations, Without any mercy on them.

Hope I pass but Andrada's an ass. Won't spare anyone.

Criminal Law sucks, but I've studied hard.

You'll pass, no doubt. You're a good student,

you're pretty, nice... The odds are on your side.

Just look him in the eye, and smile. Then come tell me.

- Andrada won't care. - You've got a killer smile.

Nobody can resist your charm. If Andrada's human you'll pass.

I'd give you A+.

- How is it going? - Want a big cup of coffee?

Scotch. Old Parr, on the rocks. And coffee.

- Not hungry? Want a bite? - No, thanks.

- Let's find a table? - No, no.

I'm going to pick Lili up. I brought you this,

- It's the communication. - What's that?

He's retired. Laid off.

I'll leave it to you. Can't do a thing before I go.

When I come back, don't know if I'll have time.

Don't worry. We'll do what we can.

I'd pass over the Rector. Find out if we can apply...

for permanence if he says no.

- Did he say no? - No. But I know he will.

Just ask. Don't tell Lili. Don't want to spoil her trip.

That's good for your coronaries, hey? Smoke, too?

- Give me one. - I have cigarettes.

- Come on, just one. - There.

Hey, you got two by-passes, punctured bellows.

Cut the crap, Fernando.

- Just for today. - Instead of applying...

for retirement, I'll apply for a disablement pension.

You don't, Natacha, put that away.

If he asks for one, please don't give him any.

Sounds like your Dad. Or like your Grandfather.

- How can you stand him? - Should find someone better.

- What? - No. I wouldn't, ever.

Don't try to steal my girl. Go to the park feed pigeons.

- Looks like it. - Just kidding.

- I'm not serious about it. - No. I know.

HOME OF THE NEW MAN

- Hi. - What's up, pretty?

What's up with you?

It's nothing at all. Just an argument with the rector.

Big one?

Ideological issues.

I ended up telling him he was brainless, just that.

- So, how are you? OK? - No, not OK.

There's more people, all the time,

and on a tighter budget. No money, downsizing,

Government can't pay They're talking of closing...

down, and really... I couldn't care less.

If they don't give us money, then we can't help anyone.

If the Government can't pay, then we're all fucked, hey?

Didn't they say that, too?

- Fer! - Coming.

What can I do?

- That yours? It's too much. - Just ice.

Don't ask me to pack my things, you know I'm useless.

Not just at packing, dear.

Which shirts do you want? Will ten be enough?

Don't know. Maybe. Just pack whatever you think best.

Ten. Regular ones, you don't have new ones.

- You'll need to buy some. - Let me know when you're...

through and I'll zip them up. Don't go lifting heavy stuff.

- Where are you going? - I'm writing.

- Is everything OK? - There you go again, Lili.

It's OK. It's just that trips make me nervous, that's all.

Fer? Fernando, are you all right?

I'm fine, Lili. I'm coming out.

Sure? Are you feeling OK? Do you need anything?

Nothing at all. It's my stomach, just that.

Go to sleep. I'll come right back.

Channel N�5. Will that be all, sir?

Give me the one with the Sun and the Moon, please.

Thanks. I love it. Haven't worn it for so long.

Brought you this one. don't know if you'll like it.

But it's like giving you the Universe: Sun, Moon, Stars.

Are you crazy? We can't afford this.

We won't be worse off than we are now.

Can't leave you alone. Thanks. What else did you buy?

Pack of Winston, American. For Pedro.

Pedro's trying to give up smoking.

They're for you, don't lie to me.

Are you smoking again? Are you out of your mind?

One, now and then. It's OK. Life's short, whether...

you smoke or not.

Dying is not the worst. If you have a stroke,

then don't ask me to wipe your ass. I'm out.

That's Love.

Can I ask you something?

You've been acting weird since Friday.

Something's the matter. Don't say no.

We've never lied to each other,

so don't start now.

What's the matter?

Your beloved professor is no longer a professor.

I'm retired by decree.

Carlos is trying to find out if I can stay for three more years,

but I don't think we'll manage.

I didn't want you to know about it until we came back.

It's worse to see you feeling bad and not knowing,

or having you lie to me...

Suddenly, they decide I'm no longer useful.

Out in the streets, out, left aside like a vegetable.

They took my future away.

Just go, and die peacefully, that's next.

Sons of a bitch, we'll get by.

We've been through worse and we managed.

- How much are they paying? - I don't know, or when.

What pisses me off is being told I'm of no use.

No one is, just because someone says so, hold on.

You'll think of something.

I'm concerned about money.

We won't know much about it. We'll see later on.

Please, not a word to Pedro.

I retired, willingly, and I'm happy about it, hey?

- OK? - OK.

But if you don't change that face we'll be fucked.

Lili's always been that way. You can't lie to her, ever.

Maybe she's too perceptive,

maybe I'm like an open book and I think I'm straight-faced.

We didn't wish to travel. We wanted to see Pedro, though.

One more commonplace: ill beginnings, ill endings.

Mum!

Hi Javier!

How are you?

- How are you? - Great, just great.

The hotel is next to the Gran Via, Hostal Montejano.

I know the hotel, but you're not going there. Come home.

- There's barely any room! - Got both kids in one room.

You've got the other room. Can't say no now you've come...

this far. If you stay here, it's too far from home. Come!

We'll be a crowd, but it's just for a couple of days.

Madrid looked beautiful, bright.

We envied the prosperous First World from which...

they were pushing us away.

We had lived in Madrid for only 6 years, when in '76...

the Military Government invited us to exile,

if we wished to stay alive.

We felt that Madrid was ours, we were no tourists here.

We though we should then just enjoy this short fantasy...

before going back to the uncertain fate...

awaiting in Buenos Aires.

Pedro's home was ours, too, or so Fabiana coldly said...

her smile showed she would soon convince us it wasn't.

The place was too small.

We were packed, uncomfortable.

Fabiana and our grandchildren didn't give us any dice.

We would see Pedro now and then, we'd dine out...

atinoUrbanizacione

Fabiana lent us her car, so we wouldn't stay home,

I guess that's what she wanted, anyway. It was HER home.

We toured, visited, went back to places we remembered.

We often felt like tourists. But we had fun.

Lili and I usually have fun together.

Being together is fun, intense, good times...

even if we don't do anything special.

We talk... or we don't, we're OKas long as we're together.

I'd have wanted it to be the same for my son and his wife.

I'm not entitled to judge him. He didn't make a good choice.

I'm trying to be fair, don't mistake me.

I'm deeply disappointed in myself as a father.

None of my expectations as a parent turned out to be true.

Maybe one did: Pedro is a good person.

We gave him freedom enough, never imposed anything on him,

we'd rather have him grow up and learn to make his own choices.

We think he'd be able to choose properly. But he wasn't.

Fabiana was just one among half a dozen girlfriends.

And she got pregnant. Pedro decided to marry her,

no pressures, not even from Fabiana.

I'd love it if you came to live in Madrid.

You'd love to be around the kids, and you'd lend me a hand.

I'd love that. I love kids. Always have.

But then you wouldn't like the way I raise them.

'Course I would!

They would be better off with you, than with an Indian,

or an African. It's an invasion!

As soon as Pedrito turns two, he'll go to kindergarten...

and I'll go back to work.

How I miss working. I hate being a housewife.

I'm a graphic designer, and a good one, too.

I'm not a housewife!

- I am. - OK, but it's different.

It depends on Fer. I like it, wherever.

What do you mean, wherever? This is your country.

I lived in exile almost all my life. My family went to...

France from Lerida, and later on to Argentina, so I never...

knew what 'missing' meant. I got there at 20, long ago...

but even so, I don't feel Argentina is home to me.

My husband is home to me.

I guess they'll start paying when we get back.

Don't know how much, but almost as much as I made,

running from school to school. I got tired.

I started feeling nobody listened to me any more.

I doubt that. You got fed up.

So, what'll you do now?

You can't just stay around, doing nothing.

I'm writing. Don't know what. Maybe it's a novel.

That's great. I'm worried about your pension.

Don't think it'll be enough for you to live on.

We'll manage.

- Are you still writing? - No.

- How do you spend your spare time? - There's none.

People will remember me as the author of only one novel...

nobody ever read, and it vanished into thin air.

Shame. It was very good.

Thanks.

Listen, Dad, I have a proposition.

Why don't you come and live here?

I'll help you.

I can rent you an apartment in Madrid,

or wherever you like it best.

Your pension and my help will see you through, and you'II...

be able to do lots of stuff you've always wanted to do.

- You must be making good money. - Yeah, very good.

I want to help you and this won't mean I'll lack anything.

This is a real country. I've got a house,

two cars, the kids may take up whatever career they want.

Can't ask for more. So?

Talk it over with Mum...?

I heard there was a law in ancient Athens...

excusing children from supporting their parents...

if they had been unable to teach them...

anything of profit, science, art.

You are excused, then. I can't accept your help.

You chose ideals and goals Mum and I taught you to despise.

You stopped doing what you were good at, and took up...

working at shit, computers, software, to make money...

and have more and more, like a burgher. Not your fault.

We failed, our doctrine did.

So what would you have me do?

Drive a taxi, starve, give a shit about my family's future,

feel an accomplished writer?

I'd rather you'd not betray yourself,

your calling, what moves you.

Like your job?

Yeah, it's fun, I'm good at it.

Fun? Great.

Now don't talk to me about the future,

your family's future,

for you know the future is an illusion...

invented by the system. All systems, so that people go...

bend over, work like slaves and produce, for fear of...

the damned future. What's your guaranteed future, hey?

Or can you tell the future?

People at this job tell you there's no more accidents,

cirrhosis, cancer...? Any fucker might just shoot us, right now.

Doctrine failed me, OK. But you, can't you think?

Will you tell me now that there's always hope, faith,

Brother, Salvation and that mother-fucking shit?

- Hey, don't shout! - Who's shouting?

You don't have a future of your own. Whether you like it,

or not, you're a South American, just one more SUDACA...

who's come to rob Spaniards of their job opportunities...

If they need to downsize, it's your ass that gets...

kicked first, understand?

I'm not South American. I'm Spanish. A Spanish citizen.

You know I don't care for flags, anthems or such shit.

You sold your soul, Pedro.

You've forgotten your country, for the sake of money.

You're not Spanish. You're something else.

I won't tell you what, you know it already.

Don't listen to him. You know him well enough.

- Have you heard? - Yeah, just to upset you.

He doesn't feel that. We'll talk later.

- See you at home? - No, better not today.

We'll get a hotel. Don't you worry about us.

Don't tell me not to smoke. Not now, please.

May I have one, too?

- Want to get a taxi? - Let's walk.

I overreacted.

A little... you behaved worse than a pig, my dear.

- Let me help you. - It's OK, I'm fine.

I'm sick and tired. of buying silly stuff.

The jacket's gorgeous. Plus, you needed one.

Why don't we leave? What are we doing here?

Let's see Lerida and then go.

I don't want to see Lerida. We can't afford it. Let's go.

About a day or so. Listen, Pedro. The plane leaves...

tomorrow night. Come downtown and have a drink with us...

so we see you before we go.

OK, call you in an hour, bye.

Says he can't help working late today, he won't be able.

It's only natural he doesn't want to see you.

Don't justify him.

Let's go out, Lili.

Let's say goodbye to Madrid on our own, let's dine out,

I'll miss that in BA, then we have a drink...

in Chicote or Bellas Artes, OK?

I'll call him anyway.

- Have a nice trip. - Are you boarding?

Gate 12, sir.

- Which gate? - Twelve.

I knew...

Thanks for coming.

I feared you had boarded.

- We were too late. - Her fault, though.

Of course...

Listen, big guy, don't pay any attention to what I said.

I was just kidding,

sometimes we do that, just for the sake of beating others.

We're both that way, you know we are.

Even if it's not true. I've always been that way.

I know. But you're right.

I'm not, it's bullshit.

I did what I thought was best. I'm a piece of shit.

I never said that. You deserve to be happy. I'm shit.

I daren't go back. The country's sinking, I know.

But that's an excuse. Some people struggle,

they live on and survive.

I'm a traitor, I ran away.

A traitor? You didn't run, they sent you away,

as they did with so many others.

Your country died. There's no more country.

So stop fucking around. See life as it actually is.

They won't let you live so you must survive.

Stop feeling guilty.

There's no more rules there. If you want to live...

then there's no more rules.

You need to pull yourself together.

Maybe you sold yourself but you mustn't give in. Hang on.

One day, maybe you'll be able to be yourself.

Don't get lost.

One day... that's the future. The future is an illusion.

It's an invention, that's philosophy.

Life is something else, though.

The future is out there, and it's for sale.

You break your back to give your kids a future.

That's OK.

You're giving them a future. A place to grow and live in.

Don't feel guilty, don't.

OK. I don't know if you're serious, or just wishing...

to make me feel good.

Today he's telling you what's in his mind and heart.

Believe it.

The offer's still on.

If you wish to come over just give me a call,

even in spite of that law.

- Which one? - The Athens Law.

We'll talk it over at home.

If we choose to come, it'll be because of you.

So we needed to come back to realize we'd had...

such a great time in Madrid in spite of the expense,

in spite of my argument with Pedro, and his sadness.

Upon returning, you harbor the hope of finding some miracle...

has taken place and you'll find everything's different.

However, as you step out on the street,

you realize your hope is broken, no anesthetics.

As so many times, I wondered what the fuck we were doing,

why we were still here, why we hadn't left for good.

And as so many times, I found no answers.

So we stayed on.

- Hi! Was everything OK? - Wonderful!

- Your trip? - Fine, thanks.

Did Carlos know you were coming?

Don't have an appointment. If he's busy, I can wait.

I wish he were busy. All he does is talk on...

the phone, trying to get people pay what's due.

This month we can't even pay the rent.

Dr. Solla, there's someone to see you.

Thanks, dear.

Bad news. No way to go over the Rector,

so you're retired. And fucked.

You'll get paid in two or three months' time.

- How much? - Minimum pension.

My contributions were not for minimum pension.

They're giving you what they can...

for the time being. If things improve, you'll get more.

- Is there anything I can do? Sue them, maybe? - Maybe.

But you'll need another attorney.

I don't want to lose your friendship.

Suing the Government will take at least three years.

You may win, if the laws are still the same then.

And if there's a Government. Just grab what they give you.

I will, but I can't live on that.

- Don't you have any savings? - Very little.

We could take a mortgage loan on the apartment. It's all we've got.

Or I can sell the car. But it's old, too.

No good. The mortgage loan you'll have to pay in dollars.

So how do I get that much?

That's what I'm telling you. Forget about the mortgage.

I'll think of something.

Check your expenses, downsize. We'll see, later on.

How big is your apartment?

110, 120 square meters or so.

It's nice. Maybe you'll get some money.

You could sell it and buy a smaller one, or,

you can rent another one. The money we can invest...

and you'll have a minimum passive income.

I can't sell it. It's Lili's, not mine.

- It belongs to both of you. - I know, but it's not that.

It belonged to her parents. They broke their backs...

to leave their daughter something. I can't just go...

tell her we're selling it. I can't do that to Lili.

- Ask her about it. - She'll say sell it.

She'll say it's OK. But I know she'll be sad.

It's not like selling an object. It's part of her life.

Maybe you're right. But your wife's not that way.

You're a walking sentimental Tango.

- Supermarket, what, 300? - Yeah, more or less.

Who cares? Half, then.

Car, garage, diesel. Nothing, we'll take the bus.

Movies, videos, books. Shall we say, half, too?

Let's wait. We'll figure it out later on.

I don't know, Lili. I try hard, cut down on coffee,

wine, telephone bills...

No way, Lili, there's no way.

What can we do?

Never mind, I'll manage.

You were never too good at figures.

We'll have to do it the other way round:

we've got only this much, and this will have to do.

We've got enough for the next two months.

Let's think of a solution.

Let's think, then.

Computer skills, French. It'd be great for me if...

I could get an interview.

Oh, no interviews. OK, thanks.

Suddenly, we realized that all we could do was think.

And no one would pay us for doing that,

or for doing any kind of work.

We were out of the market.

Out of the circle, out of the system.

Out of everything.

We were out.

Excluded, disposable, good for nothing.

We stopped paying taxes, borrowed money from Carlos.

Not much, though, just to see us through for a couple of days.

In the end, Lili decided to do...

what I'd never have wanted her to do.

PRIVATE TEACHER

I couldn't help feeling guilty.

- Hi pretty, want a drink? - No. Let's go home.

- Did you pay? - They'll write it down.

That's bad for you. It'll kill you. You can't smoke.

The doctors told you to quit smoking, get it?

OK. Just once in a while.

Am I dumb, or what?

In the beginning, the people at the Real Estate office...

said it would sell easily.

But time went by, they got pessimistic, they said...

it was a bad time for selling, that it was a crisis.

Always a crisis.

Ever since I can remember, the country's been in crisis.

And Government has always been in the hands...

of sundry corrupt people.

The crisis also brought lots of people on Saturdays,

just to take a look at the house... An outing.

I started to retreat in silence,

into notebook 19.

I left Lili to it all.

I didn't like to do that. I couldn't help doing that.

But it was a nightmare.

- It's beautiful. - Zacarias, the owner...

tells me the farm is much more than what's to see.

He taped it, to put it up for sale. He doesn't know...

It's too isolated. I think it's great.

It's a farming area, only 30 km off Villa Dolores.

You've got everything in the town, and it's as...

if you lived here in Pilar, or Tigre, good, fresh air.

Looks pretty good.

Guy's selling it, but he can't wait any longer.

Offers it in payment, 60%/ cash and 40%/ with this farm.

If it's so wonderful, then he should be able to sell it.

Sell it, and pay us cash. We agree to wait for him.

We can't sell this, and you think this guy'll find...

Corbduoyba! Iodon'tthinnk...

you can expect that much. Guy wants to move in now.

His wife died a year ago, he came to Buenos Aires.

He's living with his sister. I don't know.

He doesn't want to stay there.

He's a prospective buyer. The only buyer.

I don't know. You should think it over.

Nothing to think over.

We're not young enough to become hippies...

and live in a self-sufficient community.

That's an euphemism for brainless dopes.

If you can grow vegetables, you'll never starve, though.

You have chickens, pigs, hens. Cows are a tough job.

But you can roast pork.

If I could, I'd take it.

On your own, or with Natacha? Would you go, babe?

Where? What was that?

Caafrarm iisn Cordoba.

He'll be a peasant, a farmer of sorts, a tillerman.

Fine, just go. Write to me, if you have the time.

They say, 'to the end of the World with you'...

and then, see!

That's just because of the passage of Time.

Being with you until Time's end, not just anywhere.

What about the farm?

He wants us off. He's just telling us the farm is Heaven.

Let's eat, come.

I hate the countryside. Mountains make me sick.

If you talked of a beach, I'd go. A farm? Not for me.

I like the city. I love pavements.

Don't say what's on your mind.

The streets, hey? You said it, not I.

OK, it's the same.

I apologize. It's a new generation, different manners.

- This is great. - It's delicious, Lili.

You're a great cook, you're pretty, clever, fun.

Don't know what you're doing with this guy,

...after so many years. - Neither do I.

Let's go to the farm.

Imagine this stuff, baked in a clay oven.

Let this sour guy and Natacha stay here.

Pollution, noise, no peace... the noise of passing cars,

traffic, the crowds, commuting.

He's been wanting to seduce her ever since he met her.

He's so vain he can't believe she won't give him any dice.

You can't seduce her. Not Lili, not anyone.

We women seduce. Or we choose a guy and let him...

think he's seducing us. That's the way it is, baby.

He didn't know he was good for nothing, now he knows.

He's not seducing her. He's trying to persuade her...

about going to the farm.

I'm your friend. It's my duty. You'll be much better off.

Can you imagine us, sowing, reaping, me, with my emphysema?

My arthritis, Lili, with her hernia? I don't want to make...

you feel depressed, so I'll stop the list here.

It's not that way. Zacarias is ten years older than we are.

He's got a guy who works there.

He does the heavy jobs.

He just runs the place. Don't bring up excuses.

You want to make me change and become a landlord, then.

Don't overreact, Fer. That farm, we'd be peasants.

It's like having a backyard in Buenos Aires.

We won't be aristocrats.

He's way back in the '60s. Can't believe this.

Much earlier than the 60's. Neither Marx, nor Lenin...

nor Cuba with Fidel or Che Guevara.

I don't mean to change the system. We lost the war.

Things have evolved to the point when the owners...

of the world are so firm, so solidly established...

they even allow the Left to live on, to go along.

Why? Because the Left's just a name-tag, a pin,

a graffiti. It's just a yearning.

At most, a moral attitude...

that will never transcend private lives.

That moral attitude is its worst feature.

Too much respect, too much condescending.

That's why the Right always wins.

Because they have no scruples. They will always win.

What's the worst to you, is best.

You're judging success and failure of an idea.

That doesn't matter any more.

You're telling us what the Right says, you are disgusting.

And besides, they haven't won all the time.

Tell me about one time. Wait, Fer's not through yet.

- Where did you leave us? - 1789.

- French Revolution, baby. - I know, I'm not that dumb.

They won, kicked some ass and sent us back to 1789.

What is it that we want, what is it that we demand?

We want, we don't demand. What's worse, we expect...

the world to get organized with some common sense,

so that people know, I'm not talking of THE people,

I mean just people knowing they belong in a community,

so that they work for the good of a community.

Know about that? Liberty, equality, fraternity.

Over two centuries gone, and nothing, we didn't do anything.

We're back in 1789. Better hang the French flag...

on the balcony, so we feel less guilty, then.

I think you overreacted. We're not all of us guilty.

Don't fuck with me. Accomplices are guilty.

And also, better hang the American flag...

for their Revolution came earlier than the French.

- Be serious. - Can anyone explain to her...

I'm being serious?

- Everyone wants coffee? - Serious, bullshit.

What Fer says is essential. Right now, here and almost...

everywhere else, if you demand that, you're subversive.

Leave out the 'almost' It's that way, everywhere.

- No, there's Cuba. - No.

Oh! Don't look at me that way. We may discuss...

what's right or wrong, but Cuba is socialist.

Of all the things you said, Fer, I disagree about Cuba.

Cuba is not just a pin.

- Youth, divine treasure. - Truth spoken, there.

Don't leave me alone.

WE'LL DINE OUT THIS EVENING I LOVE YOU

This is the best essence distilling machine I found.

The French one. It's cost- effective, yields much more.

I can give you a list of perfume makers over there.

I've written to them.

They were interested in making business,

and it worked for me. At least, it used to,

until a year ago. You would have to update costs...

and revenue ratios, just in case...

And I can give you a couple of books about cultivation,

and distilling procedures.

I don't have a large plantation.

Lavender takes about two years to grow,

and my plan was to buy the machine and...

buy the lavender flowers,

so I could start to produce oil sooner.

You studied it thoroughly. I know nothing of this.

So it helps a lot. It's good you're so well organized.

I've always been very disciplined.

I always planned ahead. Couldn't live with myself...

if I didn't know what was coming. Everything,

except for Laura.

I never thought of her leaving me.

I still think she's here. She isn't, but she hasn't gone.

Don't know if my friend agrees, Mr. Zacarias

But having you as a partner might be a good idea.

As an advisor, nothing hard.

Sounds like a good idea.

You've got your wife. you must go on. I can't.

I don't want to. Don't know why I'm alive.

I thought about suicide, but I dare not.

Maybe this is just a dream, and when I wake up,

Laura will be there.

- So, what's going on? - You look great.

- Very pretty. - Don't sit down. We're going.

- What's the rush? - We have a reservation...

at 9 in Puerto Madero, and we need to pick up Natacha...

You'll discover nightlife in Buenos Aires...

at least the most expensive part.

Don't be afraid. It's on Carlos.

Have you met Coco Chanel? And the Coconut?

Let me introduce you to Coco Chanel.

King of perfumes, king of lavender. Tell her, Coco.

- Are you drunk? - We sold the apartment.

We're signing the papers next week, and then...

we'll move to the farm. If you agree, of course.

I do, but will you explain this about Coco?

I'll tell you about it in the car, let's go.

So I wrote: Dear Pedro, the farm address, in Cordoba.

The telephone number. I say we're OK, blah, blah.

We're not sad about leaving the place where we used to...

live for so long. We feel this change has awakened us.

I say it might have been nicer to do this because...

we wished to, and not because we needed to.

But that we've recovered lucidity. One knows,

but you forget that nothing goes on forever, and...

that the only thing that really belongs to us is our dreams.

And it's what keeps us moving on, illusion.

Blah, blah. Come see us. Love to you all, Mum.

This is not the road. I told you, we missed it.

It's this road. The map says so, Fer.

- Welcome. - Hello.

You must be Del Medio. How do you do?

Robles, Fernando. This is Liliana.

Call me Horacio. And it's De Medio. People keep...

saying Del Medio, but it's wrong. No middle 'L'.

I apologize, then Zacarias spelled it that way.

He's an old rascal. He did it on purpose, because...

he knows I hate it. Whenever he wanted to upset me,

he'd say, 'Come, Del Medio'. 'Here, Del Medio'.

- So how's the old man doing? - Just fine. Told us you...

are a very nice guy. He really seems to like you.

So do I. Now you're here, I won't miss him that much.

OK, if you open the boot then I'll get your bags out.

Don't worry. We can do that tomorrow.

OK. So, good night, then. Let me know if you need me.

- Good night. - Good night.

De Medio is a clever man. He left some wine here for us.

I knew he'd be nice. Are you hungry?

Hungry, need to pee. Hope to find the bathroom.

- Thanks. - Thanks? Why?

Listen to this list of lavender varieties, partner.

Lavender (lavadula officinale), English or true,

Latilofia or aspic (spica or spic), stoecha lavender...

(stechas or stoechade), French, lanata or Spanish,

lavendeer (hybrid of English and aspic). Lavendeer,

that's the one that yields the most, it's what Zacarias...

planted, but I'll try and get the English one,

which yields less oil, but is of better quality.

I believe we'll need top-quality if we want to make it...

into European markets.

What's so funny?

We've got visitors.

Good morning.

This is my family.

Ana, my wife. Micaela, Alicia, Lucas.

Go on, son, say hello.

Don Fernando, can we help you?

If you call me 'Don', then I'll call you Del Medio.

An L too much and a Don too much. You're not servants.

You and your wife may go on working here as you used to...

for Zacarias. But let me know about your salary...

Zacarias did not tell me about that, though.

Just a roof above our heads, food and some money.

Whatever you can pay us will be fine with us, Don Fernando.

It's the other way round, DeL Medio. You call the shots.

The house is yours, so we don't count it in...

And as for food, I can't dictate to you what you should eat,

so I'll pay a salary. Just tell me how much you want.

- Will that be OK? - All of a sudden? I don't now.

- Will that be OK? - All of a sudden? I don't now.

I think it's OK... Fernando.

But the house isn't mine. It comes with the farm.

I didn't buy your house.

Old Zacarias said it's yours. So, it's yours.

Maybe he became generous with old age.

Lili's smile was my highest achievement.

It was my best reward.

Getting to the farm, made her change her world.

She was once again young, beautiful, and happy.

And for some time, I forgot about my failures, absurdities,

about the Literature Professor being something...

that belonged to the Past, as Tangos go.

I tried to persuade myself, and at times succeeded...

about my life having new sense if I lived it for her,

for Lili. I had to go on, just for her,

so that she'd never lose her joy.

Lili said 'One knows, but forgets about it'.

That's the way to live with lucidity.

But it's more complicated if you don't manage to forget.

Awakening to lucidity may never come. But when it does,

if it does, you can't avoid it. It comes for good, it stays.

When you perceive absurdity, the lack of sense in Life...

then you also realize that there are no goals in Life...

there's no progress. It is understood, even if you...

can't accept it, that Life brings Death along with it.

Life and Death are not consecutive, but simultaneous.

If you can retain soberness and get along with routine,

with rules, even if you don't believe in them...

it's because lucidity makes you see life is just futile.

And futility can't be lived as if it were a tragedy.

Do you like reading?

This one's nice, and it's got nice drawings.

It carries your name, too.

If you like it, you may keep it. If you don't, you bring it back.

- Why do you need so many books? - I don't know. Really.

I don't know what I brought them for.

- Where will you put them? - I need planks and bricks...

so I can make shelves.

'So many words for one doubt'.

Excuse me, Fernando. But, there's no need for door...

numbers around here. It's not as in the city.

It's the name. A number, but the name of the house.

It's an important date for both of us.

I'll tell you about it some time, when we're bored.

Now, I need to paint two more, and I'll ask you...

if you can nail them on to a post or a tree trunk.

One, at the entrance, and the other, way back...

out by the route, so our friends can't miss the place.

- Plays better than Maradona. - Beautiful.

Stop peeling potatoes. We can change the menu. Barbecue.

- Fine, but clean it first. - Kill it first, you mean.

- Don't give it to me. - It's easy, just a twist...

of the neck. Can't you do that?

Yes, but I won't. You do it.

Come on, I have no idea.

You were born on a farm.

Here, better use a knife.

Knock him out before you kill it, so it won't suffer.

But go out, it's a dirty job.

Needs a name.

Diego.

I've decided that as of tomorrow De Medio, our dear friend,

will be appointed, our Official executioner.

Lucidity is both a gift and a punishment.

It's in the word: Lucid comes from Lucifer,

the rebel Archangel, the Demon... But Lucifer,

is also the Morning Star, the first star,

the brightest, and the last to go.

Lucid comes from Lucifer and Lucifer, from Lux and Ferous...

meaning 'the one who's got the light',

'the one who makes Light that gives inner vision'.

Good and Evil, all in one. Pleasure and pain, at once.

Lucidity is pain, and the only pleasure you may know...

the only thing vaguely similar to joy...

will be that of being aware of your own lucidity.

'Silence of understanding, silence of just being there.

That's how years are spent.

That's how the beauty of animal joy was wasted'.

Pizzarnik. Masterful.

Yes, he's in. Hold on. I'll call him right now.

Fer! Carlos!

No, it's no surprise to me.

Banks lend money if you have money.

If you don't, then you're fucked.

Try it, if it pleases you, but the interest rates will kill me.

OK, call me then.

Send my love to Natacha. OK, come see us some time.

Fine, bye, all my love.

- When are they coming? - He said in a week's time.

But you know Carlos. It might be a month.

Forget about the perfume.

The bank declined to loan the money for the French machine.

I guessed they would. We'll need to find something.

Ciao lavender, Lili.

We can apply for a loan in Spain, buy the machine,

and have it delivered here. The rates must be lower, too.

- How do I get a loan in Spain? - Not you, Pedro.

He won't say no. He can make the payments until you start...

selling the essence, and then you repay him, with time.

I don't want to owe anyone any favors, not my son.

After all you called him in Madrid, you can't ask him...

...for money. - That's right.

Come on. He'll never say no or throw it on...

your face. He'll be only too happy to help you!

I don't know. I'll think about it.

Look, Fer. I don't care about the machine,

the oil, the perfume, whatever.

All I care about is my son. Stop being so haughty...

and call him. He'll be happy. He will want to help...

his father, he'll feel you don't despise him,

so by accepting his help, you'll be accepting him.

Am I asking for too much? Do it for Pedro.

Give me a pull. It's bad for you.

What time is it over there?

Early, but who cares?

Pedro? It's Dad. Is it too early? Sorry,

but this is urgent. No, no, everything's fine.

No, Mum's all right. We're both fine, yes.

Listen, I need a favor. If you can help me out,

then say yes. Otherwise, just say no, and it's OK.

No, not about that. I'll fax you the details.

I need a loan, in Spain.

If I see it's too far, then I'll come right back.

Walking is good for me, but it's not a piece of cake.

De Medio tells me you can see the mountains...

300 kms away, in La Rioja. Coming?

No, not today. I'm making tomato jam today.

Stop that. We'll put on weight.

So? Fat and happy.

Can't button my pants, see?

Could you be happy? Not today, but some time.

Not today? Am I grounded?

You may think as you wish. Sometimes, you think of...

things you don't want to think about. It's OK.

Like some sort of game or brain exercise.

You can think. You can live. But if thinking too much won't...

let you live, then that's not good at all.

Been reading my notebook?

No need to. I read only what you ask me to read.

I know.

I do what I can. But it's too hard for me.

I'm better Lili...

rest assured.

You can think and speak. I'm not too clever, but I...

can listen and look as if I were understanding...

maybe it would help.

You know me inside out.

Never mind. I like listening.

The lucid person may live on as long as he preserves...

the instinct to preserve the human species, a vital impulse.

Maybe, with time, this dark, instinctive force is spent.

Then, you need to go back to something like Faith.

You need to invent a reason. A goal that will replace...

the animal instinct you have lost, some rational, cold will.

But this will is hard to maintain.

Suddenly, it dies, it vanishes.

Then, you may go on, or quit.

Or you may not.

If you can't go on, there's no blame on you.

It doesn't matter how much you love others,

how much they love you.

If you don't go on, then others go on without you.

Everything goes on. Absence fades away.

You know Death before you die: it's a routine,

a common ending.

A longed-for ending you don't fear,

because you've gone through it so many times.

Everything is just the same.

Are you crazy? Where have you been? It's very late!

I fell asleep by the stream. I didn't realize about time.

- Where did you go? - Up there, to see that...

fucking mountain, but you can't see a damn.

- I got tired all for nothing. - Come in. You're soaked.

You're having brandy, with milk and honey, right now.

That'll burn a hole in my stomach.

Get me some more honey.

If this finally works, De Medio, we'll make a new agreement.

Of the money coming in, we'll separate expenses, then we'II...

pay back the loan, and then we'll estimate a percentage...

to be used on improvements.

What remains, which will be our profits,

we'll split in halves. Between you and us.

- Like a salary? - No. Besides a salary.

Let's talk about it later.

You caught cold and you're not feeling well.

I want you to understand about 1789.

That year, the French made a Revolution, because...

they wanted freedom, equality, and fraternity.

No one paid any attention.

I'll start it going.

- Give me your coat, Carlos. - Thanks. This is great!

- Much better than the video. - It's OK.

- Where's Natacha? - We split up.

- She found a young guy. - Not funny. I left her.

I asked her for some time. I needed distance.

But she got pissed off, and she left, then.

I'm sorry. You'll make up. You got along so well.

But, tell me, what's that about distance? It's bullshit!

- She wants a baby. - That's natural.

- Natural, yes, but not for me. - She loves you.

I love her, too. A lot. But, I can't ruin her, by leaving...

her later, alone with a baby.

You know when you're going to die?

I see you coming, Lili. Don't you start on me.

The guest room is upstairs.

Great, so I can stay a couple of months,

instead of just a couple of days.

You can stay as long as you wish. I'll find the hotel.

Provincial hospitality.

- What's this? - Fried cakes.

Wonderful. Shit on light food, nouvelle cuisine...

and cholesterol!

You're sick.

So I have coffee, that way I won't pass it on to you.

Silly goose fell asleep on the mountains.

One, retirement. It's a pittance. Two, that's better. Interest...

on the apartment money invested. I invested it in mortgage loans.

Didn't tell you, 'cause you'd start breaking my balls.

This is usury. Are you kidding? You can't make me a loan shark.

I'll revoke your power of attorney.

See? Listen, the notary lent your money to a construction...

company, not a guy, for I told them you wouldn't want it.

It's not much, you're just robbing a thief.

Hope it's enough.

We'll make it last.

Get some shelves. You can't have the books all around.

I'll leave them in boxes, for the time being.

If things don't work out, and we go back to BA,

then we're spared the work of packing all the books.

- Are you crazy? - Don't look at me.

If the perfume business goes down the drain, then do...

something else. Don't go back. Everything is much worse now.

You don't realize about it here.

- It's less noticeable. - If perfumes are a no-go,

then do something else. Open a public library...

or get a teaching position, or give lectures, get to know...

the neighbors and try to find out how they cope...

You want me to be a Mayor? An Anarchist? That's your dream.

- You come and do that. - I can't. I love city dirt.

I like money. Well, all my money goes to my ex-wife and...

my daughters. None of them ever comes to see the old man.

Hold on with the cakes. I'll light the fire. Firewood.

- Beef or chicken? - Beef, you want chicken...?

Chicken, farm chicken, real good, healthy chicken.

- The white one, he looks fine. - That's Diego, our rooster...

Lili, will you tell De Medio?

- I'm going inside. - Yes, man.

Don't take off your jacket.

You've got a fever.

- Carlos. - Coming.

- Sure you don't want to come? - You men need to be alone.

Seldom, of course. Take care. Just some wine. No whisky,

...no pervert girls. - She won't leave us alone.

- Give me one. - You're kidding.

Just a pull.

It's so nice to see you.

You look fine. Lili, mostly. She looks great.

You look a bit worse off. You're old.

I'm beaten, a wreck.

That makes two of us.

I don't know what to do with this girl. I don't want...

to lose her. I never loved like this before,

- But I met her too late. - It's never too late.

Come on! Tell me. How much longer do I have? Ten years?

I don't mean, till I die. I mean, useful years.

- Ten, at the most. - Less. Maybe one year,

or maybe an hour. It's the same for everyone, at 20, at 30.

You sound like an amoeba, not like a thinking person.

- Shake your neurons. - I've got only one.

Be brave. Don't lose her.

Hey! What are you doing?

To avoid the cough during the interview.

Come with me, I'll get you some photocopies.

And I'll give you a business card,

so you can give it to Suarez Vela.

He's got an English lavender plantation, but he's not...

taking care of it. He bought a winery in Mendoza.

Wine is better business.

You'll have to haggle, though. I know him very well.

He's my ex-husband.

- Why do they call you Tutti? - It's my name. In Uruguay,

we get all sorts of names. Not like here, where there's a list.

One of my friends, they christened him 'Pe�arol'.

My mother called me Tutti, because she loved classical...

music. What she loved most, were the orchestra 'tuttis'.

When they all play together, and they give their best...

so when I was born, my father wasn't in, and they...

asked my mother. She said, Tutti, and that was it...

my father wanted to kill her, but it was already done.

- Nice, uh. - Suits you, Tutti.

Even though lavender essence is fine, you may always want...

to mix it with small portions of other essences.

Because that's what makes it stronger.

I've got a Chemistry book that explains it all.

I can lend you the book, but as it's not mine,

I'll need you to bring it back, of course.

Thank you. I'll copy whatever I need and I'll bring it back.

If there's anything I don't understand, I'll ask you...

You know a lot about this.

Yes, as much as you know about women.

Your discreet look, assessed me at first sight,

and I believe you liked what you saw.

Am I right or wrong?

You're either too wise, or I'm losing my skills, then.

Maybe, I didn't expect to find this lust-awakening woman.

You, too, are a willing prey any woman would want to capture.

I can go on with the photocopies,

if you wish and you go get some coffee.

I'm still prejudiced. So this will just be flirting,

just some erotic praise between two very experienced persons.

Experience doesn't mean knowledge.

- I know nothing about women. - An elegant lie.

A gentleman never speaks too much.

I've known a few women, I studied them, admired them,

but I never got to decipher them. You're a mystery to me.

And also, a surprise. Let's just enjoy your presence here.

With time, I learned to listen, to value silences, and looks.

Moments that seem to last an eternity.

I learned to respect their intuition, and intelligence.

I learned to love women.

Please be warned my defense is wavering.

You can't just talk that way.

- I'll be in the car. - I'm a married man.

Been happily married for 40 years.

No need to gossip, or lie.

I'm not lying. Being faithful to my wife has never been...

an obligation, a pact or a rule. Lili and I have...

always said that if someone else comes along,

well, tough luck. But no lies. We stay together out...

of free will. Nobody forces us. We are Ioyal. None of the...

women I met after Lili can beat her. I may look at them.

I may admire them. I may find Tutti Tudela attractive.

I'm open to whatever comes up.

But, invariably...

it's Lili who wins.

She always wins.

I feel that when you speak of women, it's just one woman,

...you're talking about. - Maybe, yes.

Please be warned, my dear Tutti, that my friend's...

speech is a lie, masterfully made up to seduce...

beautiful women like yourself.

I'd love to meet your wife.

Just let me tell her all you said about her.

Does she know this?

No.

I never told her. But Lili knows all.

Tell her.

Maybe I can't.

Maybe I'll write it.

That would be fine.

But do it soon. She doesn't deserve to wait too long.

Why don't you call it a day. Go to bed, you've got fever.

I'll wrap this up, then I'll go to bed.

Is it so important? Will I ever see it?

Whenever you want. Just notes, nothing too much.

Don't know if it's worthwhile. I'll read it over.

I'll get you some tea and aspirin and you go to bed.

We got a fair deal, didn't we?

With De Medio and ten other hands, we'll be able to cut

and load in less than a week.

Could have given it to you for free. In a year's time,

he'll sell the winery to someone in California and get so rich...

he'll never need to do a day's work again, ever.

And so will you, when your farm is ready.

Coco Chanel, Coco, for you.

Want a smoke? Just a pull?

- Think I got pneumonia. - Come on.

I know the symptoms... I'm getting breathless.

Not too bad... but a pain in the ass...

Antibiotics will fuck up my stomach too bad.

Mother-fucking shit...

Stop, stop. Over there.

Let's go to town, to the hospital...

They'll give me something.

Don't want Lili to see me. She'll get so worried.

- I'll call Lili. - No, wait till we get there.

- Where is he? How is he? - OK, with the doctor.

They got him into ICU, just to keep an eye on him.

Did you let them know about the two by-passes?

They know. Fer told them. He'll be fine, don't worry.

- This is his wife. - How do you do?

- May I see him? - He's stable. We had...

to intubate, to help him breathe. He's stable now.

- What is it exactly? - We put him on a mechanic...

respirator, to give him oxygen. His lungs were not...

working at full capacity, 20%/ and only 50%/ oxygen in blood.

Normal is about 97, 98. Got to monitor his heart.

He's reacting well. You need to be patient.

He'll need to stay here for about eight days...

until we see he reacts to antibiotics.

- May I go in? - He's sedated, just a minute.

Doctor, excuse me. Just tell me the truth. Is it too bad?

They've got a son in Madrid, I want to know if I need...

to call him. Should I?

See, there's always a risk.

Pneumonia is like that. We need to monitor his progress.

Some people say it's the patient's will that counts...

so seeing his son might help. I don't know, I don't agree.

If antibiotics don't kill the bacteria, they'll kill him.

Bugs don't die just because you will them to. Otherwise...

babies wouldn't die, or kids. Everyone would grow up fine.

It doesn't work that way. I got a couple of deaths.

You do what you think best.

I don't want to leave him.

Why stay in the corridor? I'm going to sleep.

I'll call Pedro in a while.

Will you ask him to come?

I'll let him know...

Then it'll be up to him.

Listen to the doctors.

They say it's bad, but not so bad. Do you get that?

I try.

Want me to stay?

I can call the office...

There's no need, go.

I got a hearing. If I fail to go, my client might go...

to jail for twenty years.

But I'll come next weekend.

No need.

He'll be fine by then.

I'll come anyway. Bye.

Bye, then.

Thank you.

A) 'THE DIFFUSE MURDERER' B) 'WHAT NEVER CAME TO BE'

- Pedro? - Yes.

Welcome. I'm De Medio, no middle L...

Your mother's at the hospital.

Don't worry. Your Dad's doing fine. Want to have a drink?

Not now, thanks.

Must be so tired, it's a long trip, isn't it?

14 hours by plane, 2 more by car. Is he really OK?

He is, he is. Slowly but surely. Lung problems...

are a pain in the ass. But he's a strong man.

Say hi to him. Give me the bag.

- No, it's OK. - Come on, give it to me.

He's fine, just fine.

The nurse sent me away. But he wanted me to stay.

He's fed up with this.

He'll want to leave. Yes. When's he discharged?

8 days they said. It's 6 today. He'll have a C-scan tomorrow.

I'm happy he could see you. Now he'll cope with it better.

- Oh, fine, fine. - Coffee, homemade bread,

butter and orange jam, made by your mother.

What about a beaten egg with sugar?

As if I were a little boy again. I'd never want to go back.

And some wine. There's no Port wine.

Hurry up, I'll take a shower and we'll go.

Want to be there by ten before they take him to X rays.

Kids aren't allowed to smoke.

Never before breakfast. Quit smoking.

- I'm trying. It's hard. - It isn't but you can try.

Pedro, hurry up.

Who is it? Yes, yes, thanks.

Better this way. He's going first.

If I'd gone first, he wouldn't have got over it.

Ever. Too much pain. Too much Ioneliness.

He never liked Ioneliness.

It's what he liked the least.

I can bear Ioneliness. He can't.

You won't be Ionely, Mum.

I'm here, so are your grandchildren.

You're not staying here. Come with me.

- Is that your flight? - Yes.

What about Carlos?

- Couldn't he come? - No, he couldn't.

He wanted to be here, but I told him it was OK. You were here.

I should have come before he got ill. We couldn't talk.

That's what I wanted. Just talk with him.

Talk, not argue.

We used to argue a lot, but we talked too little.

I realize about that now. Too late, as usual. It's over.

- You can talk to me. - You're not disappointed in me.

You don't think I have failed you, Mum.

I do. I agree with your father. And if what's...

you wanted to talk about, you did so with him...

And he told you all he had to tell you.

Maybe you didn't like it. Or you've forgotten.

It's not as if you've failed, but you're on the right track.

It's not a question of accounting for what you do,

and do what we want you to do.

It's a question of doing what you like to do, it's just that.

- Remember that? - I'm grounded, then.

Being grounded helps kids learn.

- Here, take this candy to the kids. - Thanks.

This is for you. Your father wrote it some time ago.

It will be like talking to him.

I'll insist until I convince you of coming.

There's no need for you to be alone here. Come on.

Good morning.

I'd like to go get the plants tomorrow. Is it OK?

I'll talk to Alicia and the boys,

to have them tell the people.

Will 10 be fine?

- 10, 11... - At 10. We'll need time.

See you tomorrow, madam.

See you, Del Medio.

Liliana.