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♪Subtitles: ANS, corrected by♪ Asifakheir☻♥

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The West

Our ranch was located several miles north of Divide,

lost in the Pioneer Mountains.

The closest thing to traffic was when the Union Pacific

Freight trains rumbled through the valley, at 5:44 am

11:53 am,

5:15 pm.

Divide was literally located on the continental divide.

To the east, the water spilled into the Atlantic.

To the west, it spilled into the Pacific.

One day my brother Layton and I,

decided to christen this natural border.☻

Giddap, you little donkey! Yee-haah!

Giddiup, horse!

Yaaah! Yahoo!

Layton, look over here.

Hello Big Sur!

Hello New Orleans!

Hello Big Sur!

And hello New Orleans!

Hello "Nawleans"!

But Layton's favourite pastime

was shooting at anything that moved.

Big loop.

Elbow up.

Ready?

Now!

Go! Yaah!

Stop!

Upon my brothers request,

father built us a seesaw.

Slow down!

Ride'em, cowboy.

My father loved Layton

more than anything in the world.

Yeah, that's a ood deal.

I would have liked to be a daredevil, too.

But I knew I'd never be up to it.

One year earlier

Orffyreus had five marbles travelling in tubes,

creating an imbalance. This rocking motion, however,

caused the energy to dissipate.

Robert Flux built a mill based on the concept

of perpetual rotation.

However the inherent friction of the machine caused a significant loss of energy.

The Italian philosopher Marco Zimara

imagined a machine that could recycle the wind.

But the force required to compress the bellows

was greater than the energy produced by the windmill.

And so, it didn't work.

No scientific challenge remains greater,

most prestigious,

more mythical,

than that of finding the key to

perpetual motion.

Thank you.

And yet some affirm that

this quest is doomed to failure.

Such a machine defies the laws of the universe.

The very basis of thermodynamics assumes that

all mechanism will eventually come to a stop.

Yes, you.

Given the current state of Science and Technology,

isn't the quest for perpetual motion better suited for

idealists and poets than real scientists?

What if imagination started

and science ended?

Those who pushed the boundaries of science, were they not all poets?

I'm certain that as we speak here today, that somewhere in this country,

a budding Leonardo Da Vinci

is gearing up for the challenge.

Thank you very much.

Oh God...

Hello.

Sir, I am the Leonardo from Montana.

You are? What you are going to do?

I accept the challenge.

You do?

One afternoon in August,

the phone rang, while my sister Gracie and I

were on the porch, shucking sweet corn into large metal buckets.

What?

the buckets were riddled with bite marks dating back to last spring

when our dog Tapioca got depressed

and started eating metal.

Hello.

Wow.

Gracie, can you hold this a second.

This is what I predicted. The Manticora Herculeana

is a subspecies of the Cicindeler.

Who was it, that called?

Same time, it has a hair on the tip of the mandible.

Doesn't seem to have a white spot on the elytra.

Mom?

The phone, who was it?

Oh, a call for TS.

- A call for him?! - M-hm. Yes Gracie.

- Who was it? - Hm?

I don't know. Ah...

She's still in the line. She's waiting.

You should probably go.

If you finish before I get back,

count the number of good ears and the number of bad ones.

Why not count the kernels, while we're at it?!

I had 3 options to get to the phone.

The corridor-kitchen way,

the quickest but also the most boring.

The upstairs-downstairs route,

but the shift in altitude made me nauseous.

I opted for the third and riskiest,

particularly when father was working around the house.

The sitting room smelled like whiskey stained leather.

and moldy photographs.

If you just closed your eyes,

you could feel the dust falling onto the prairie

after a cowboy posse galloped through.

Layton used to think the sitting room, was the greatest thing since

grilled cheese.

- Hello. - Hello. Yes, um...

I would like to speak to T.S. Spivet, this is Miss Jibsen,

Under Secretary of the Smithsonian.

Hold on.

Father!

Phone!

My father is all yours, Miss. Jibsen.

Hello, Mr. Spivet.

Yes, my dad is listening.

Could you hand him the phone please.

No, my father is mute, Mrs. Jibsen.

He can hear you but can only respond in sign language.

I'll translate everything for you.

You are the T.S. Spivet

that has just invent the magnetic wheel?

One second. Father is saying...

Yes, I only sent you the blueprints,

because I didn't have the time to do it.

The quest for perpetual movement!

I mean, it's the Holy Grail of inventors...

Tell me Mr.Spivet, I take it you live in Montana?

Coppertop ranch.

Longitude: 112° 44' 19".

Latitude: 45° 44' 27".

These are the coordinates to my bedroom.

Wow! Clearly you have an eye for detail.

Which is a requisite for any great inventor.

Father is asking:

so you are the head of the Smithsonian?

Well, technically, I'm the Under Secretary, but,

many people would say I run the place.

Wow!

Yeah.

Look, Mr.Spivet, your invention

has won our prestigious Baird Award.

The Spencer Baird Award?

Indeed.

Our 150th anniversary gala is in a week's time

and it would be perfect oppurtunity for you to,

you know, make your acceptance speech.

Of course, we would

provide you with a sign language interpreter.

But... I'll be in class.

I go back to school on Monday.

Oh, you must teach at the University of Montana.

A quick phone call to your President, Jack Campbell,

and it'll be taken care of. I mean,...

we are talking about the Baird Award, after all.

Prairie of Truth

Mountain of Lies

Hello... Hello?

I was just thinking.

I can't come out to receive the Baird award.

I have too much work to finish.

Thanks anyway.

Have a good day.

What are you doing?

What do you think I'm doing?

You're going to mess up my dataset.

You were in there for, like, 15 hours. Who was that?

A journalist, from... New York.

Wants me to go there for an interview about my work.

Inside Gracie's cortex

Just laugh in his face, it's the only way to deal with this.

Clearly he is making it up.

And what if it were true?

You mean this total spaz leaving Montana before us?

Would it be so bad to be a celebrity sister?

This total dork, invited to New York?!

For an interview?!

You're full of crap!

I told her I can't come, 'cause classes start again on Monday,

but she was insistent.

What did I do to God for Him to hate me?

It's like, "Here, Gracie, I found you a family full of nutjobs,"

"And you are gonna live in Nowheresville, Montana"

"and your brother, who is a total spaz"

"is going to New York!"

I told you I'm not going, I've got school!

News flash: crazy New Yorkers love spazzers. It's kind of a new trend!

Too late.

Any chance she got

she'd wallow in the role of the misunderstood actress.

She landed the lead in a retro anti-establishment theater piece.

But that night,

I was busy working on a challenge set by Discover magazine

"How to drop an egg from the top"

"of the Empire State Building without breaking it."

In order to finish my project and get out of seeing Gracie's play,

I had to enlist Tapioca to the rescue.

One night, in her Bette Davis phase,

Gracie launched into a heated diatribe

about father's museum sitting room.

Is it even conceivable that that cowboy museum or rather, mausoleum

could be turned into a normal living room

where normal people could relax and have normal conversations?

My father, Tecumseh Elijah Spivet,

was born 100 years too late.

He had the soul, stature, and mindset of a cowboy.

For him talking was a necessary chore, like shoeing a horse.

Cellphone reception was nowhere to be found at Coppertop Ranch

and father refused to install a telephone in Gracie's room.

And you heard her voice, right?

Her body...

Yeah, its no wonder in the history of Miss America pagent Miss Montana's never won.

It's, like, the worst selection ever!

Every night in his sitting room

father took off his boots

and muttered some cryptic statement

after raising a glass of whiskey up to his lips

precisely every 45 seconds.

You can't get horseshit from a cricket.

Crickets and insects,

were my mother's specialty.

Dr. Claire had spent most of her adult life

studying tiny creatures with a magnifying glass,

and then classifying them into species

and subspecies.

What if it doesn't exist?

What?

I mean, for a year now, you stopped everything

to prove that Tigermonk Cicindelas exist...

Stopped everything?

What do you mean, in a

maternal sense or a scientific one?

What is it that you want me to start doing again...

that I stopped doing, hm?

I dunno.

Your research on the Parasitic Scolyte Catepillar maybe?

Your findings could've saved all the pine trees in Montana.

Every other scientific attempt had failed.

Failed?

Form the ecologists point of view, maybe.

But from the caterpillar's point of view,

looks like a win-win situation.

Anyway I've never liked pine trees.

They're drippy and they're sticky.

Some things are just meant to die.

How my parents ever fell for each other is a mystery.

They were like day and night.

The human head lice, Pediculus Humanus Capitis

belong to the Anoplura family.

A-N-O-P-L-U-R-A.

TS, When you're drawing the legs,

make sure you observe not just how many there are,

but the exact distance between them.

Yep. The exact distance between'em.

Beware of mediocrity,

it is the fungus of the mind.

We must constantly fight against it

or it'll creep into everything we do.

Darn!

The louse got away.

Here. Made a lasso to catch him.

Wooh!

Thanks, Dad.

A fool, by definition

is one who turns what is beyond his mental grasp,

into one big joke.

And then a few days later, at the end of the hallway,

their hands brushed against each other,

as if they were secretly exchanging a few seeds.

What?

And then there was Layton,

my dizygotic twin.

That's when two sperm cells fertilize two seperate eggs.

To each his own embryo.

To each his own lucky star.

Layton got the height and I got the neurons.

- Mom... - Yeah?

Have you ever gotten AIDS?

What?!

Angela Ashworth says AIDS are bad and I probably have them.

Well, next time, you just tell Angela Ashworth,

just because she feels insecure about being a little girl,

in a society that puts an inordinate amount of pressure

on a woman to live up to some physical standard,

it doesn't mean that she has to take out her

misplaced self loathing on a nice little boy like you.

You may be an inherent part of the problem,

but it certainly doesn't mean you have AIDS.

I'm not sure I can remember all that.

Well then, just tell her, she's fat.

OK.

But Layton died last year

during an accident with a gun in the old barn.

I don't know what went wrong.

I was there too, measuring gun shots.

No one ever talked about it.

No one.

Chris, not bad.

Except, we're going to have to go over this a little bit.

Daisy... B+.

Solid work.

Excellent illustrations of the lake formation process.

TS.. C+.

Report shows undeniable qualities,

but as usual, is way off-subject.

What does the formation of lakes in Montana have, anything, to do

with the east-west migratory path of Canadian Geese?

Sir, I'm not sure if you read the introduction, but I...

You think you're the smarter than everyone else, don't you?

As for the diagram, its very pretty,

but scientifically erroneous.

Really, Sir?

Bacause I sent it to the Discover Magazine...

and they liked it, and they published it.

Do not play games with me, TS.

You're out of your league.

And what about the magnetic wheel?

You didn't mention anything about that.

I dont give a a rat's ass about the magnetic wheel!

Mr. Stenpock, how can a man like you,

supposedly devoted to opening our minds to scientific curiosity;

how can you be so aggresively narrow minded?

If every scientists were like you

there'd be no penicillin,

no relativity,

or sewage drains,

there wouldn't even be chocolate chip cookies!

Superiority complex, that's what you have, TS.

Your talents in scientific observations would be put to better use

in picking your socks in the morning.

Lend me a hand for a second?

Whatcha need?

Shovel out the creek. It's drier than a mummy's pocket.

We'll get her to spit up all she's got 'fore sunset.

C'mon.

To know that my father had to resort to asking help from me,

his only remaining son,

The one who is useless on the ranch,

filled me with sadness.

Layton should have been here, not me.

One day, he shot a coyote with his Winchester from 200 yards.

Father was so impressed,

he took off his hat and slapped it on my brother's head.

It was a special moment.

I knew it would never happen to me.

She was still running a bit last week.

Snow pack's still got some juice.

Like the... the creek is teasing me.

A couple of months earlier,

I had built a scale model depicting the hydrology of our valley.

You could see the various water tables, drainage trends, soil composition

and seepage capacity.

TV:You'll never handle guns again Morgan.

Dad, d'you wanna give it a look?

See, if you dig from here to there,

the water will be channeled to there.

thereby increasing the flow of water,

that was thereby stagnating and evaporating.

'cause the laws of fluid mechanics,

make it unstoppable.

If you ask me, that's just piss in a can.

If you opened your eyes, you'd see that.

Them ignorant goats.

Don't worry, I got'im.

Right. 'Bout to kill that critter anyway.

Son of a bitch deserves to be coyote chow.

It's okay, Stinky, don't worry.

I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't worry.

Maybe dying on a ranch from a snakebite,

was more fitting than a self-inflicted

gunshot wound to the head

by an old rifle in a cold barn.

You fixing on kissing that poison rope?

We still got our business day's leaving.*

That was the first time my father ever patted me on the back.

But I couldn't tell if it was to brush me off, to reprimand me

or to substitute for a hug.

I would go to Washington DC tomorrow.

I was a researcher, a scientist,

and they needed me there.

If I stayed here,

I'd end up turning around in circles,

like these bats.

I'd only be the echo of myself.

C'mon, Gracie, quick!

Ohh!

Thank you, TS.

What's for dinner tonight?

Pureed Corn.

Hey T.S, can you take over my dish washing duties, tonight?

I'll make it up to you, I swear. It's just...

Tonight's the Miss USA pagent and I really don't wanna miss the opening.

You already owe me 4.

Miss USA?

And these women are picked for their talents in what, exactly?

Painting?

Yoga?

Karate, perhaps?

No mom.

Miss "America" is the one with the talent portion.

Miss "USA" is the beauty contest.

It's way better.

I still think its a mistake not to take into consideration

these girls' intellectual attitudes.

Mom, it's a beauty contest.

It's "Miss USA".

Otherwise, it'd be called "Miss High I.Q".

Which no one would watch!

Because it would be boring!

Like my life!

I'm sorry Gracie, but...

you know what? If you were to enter this kind of contest,

it'd be a mistake not to

showcase your talents as an actress. And as a singer.

You have a pretty voice. And you play the oboe.

I have to go to Kalispell tomorrow.

to collect specimens

I'll be a few days.

I prepared all of your meals, so, all you have to do is reheat them.

Good deal.

TS, I've been thinking about what you told me the other day.

About what I used to do, that I've stopped doing.

And I was wondering,

do you wanna come with me to Kalispell?

It'd be great to have your help.

Mom, it's entertainment.

Entertainment!

Have you thought about what I asked you?

Sorry, but I can't come with you to Kalispell tomorrow.

I have to finish a project for Mr. Stenpock.

Well, next time, I'll try to give you more notice.

You've reached the office of Mrs. Jibsen, please leave a message.

This is Jack Campbell speaking,

the President of the University of Montana.

I have some good news.

Mr. T.S. Spivet has managed to rearrange his schedule.

So, he'll be leaving first thing tomorrow.

He will not be reachable, but will make just in time to

accept the Baird Award and make his speech, and all.

- Good night. I mean good morning. - Hey...

I dunno if you're aware or anything, but,

you are talking to a garbage can.

The four steps of packing

I was terrified at the thought of having to pack my suitcase.

Even packing for school every day, took me at the very least 23 minutes.

Maybe 22 minutes.

1: Play and replay the scenario of the trip in my head.

2: To arrange all necessary items

in order of importance.

8 pair of underwear, 2 sextants,

3 burgundy sweaters,

1 thermometer, 1 hygrometer, 1 barometer.

Only one telescope.

1 frontal headlamp, officially known as Tom,

5 blank red notebooks and 5 blank purple notebooks,

1 tape measure,

and my set of Gillott pens.

12 handkerchiefs,

1 box of raisins,

12 carrot sticks.

11.

A self-defense handbook,

my sparrow skeleton,

binoculars,

my Leatherman.

3: Avoid thinking about a scenario for which I will need a seismoscope

where a woodpecker would be sound-scaping a tree.

4: Pack everything

and finally add my teddy bear Big Jojo.

At 4 o'clock in the morning,

my suitcase was finally ready.

Goodbye, Layton.

Going away for a while to Washington D.C.

I'll bring you back a souvenir.

I'm sorry for what I did.

Dear Spivet Family, I've gone for a while to do some work.

Dont worry, I'll be fine.

I didn't want to bother you by telling you about it ahead of time.

Thank you for taking care of me.

You're one of the best families in the world.

Love, TS.

Hello, Tapioca.

Hello.

I'll miss you.

Where are you going?

To the Smithsonian in Washington D.C.

It seems like everyone ends up

leaving in this house.

I'll be back.

Why had he not stopped?

Because I was responsible for his favorite son's death

and now I must be banished from the ranch.

That's why.

Hey you!

Get back here!

Come here!

Stop running, kid!

You don't have the right to be here!

Get down!

Get off, that!

Get'im, get'im!

Oh, my god!

Sun: chemical composition;

hydrogen, helium, oxygen, iron

neon, nitrogen, silicon, magnesium

and sulfur.

"How beautiful the sun when newly risen,

"An explosion of morning greetings

"Happy is the man who can Lovingly salute 'his rising'(sic)

"More glorious than a dream!" (C. Baudelaire)

So...

you officially a hobo now?

Well, in case you hadn't noticed,

I'm hitching a freight train ride, on my way to Washington D.C.

And what's an adventurer never leave without?

His knife, his magnifying glass,

his maps, his whip

and his hat.

Bet, you forgot to bring the whip.

- I'm glad you're here. - Me too. I'm glad you're here.

No! Not my Japanese palm weevils!

Shoo! Shoo!

These larvae, they survived a trip across the Pacific Ocean,

70,000 miles, to end up in the stomach of a goat?!

It's just the ignorant Montana goats. They don't know any better.

Oh, well, if you can't manage to corral your goats,

maybe you should consider a new line of work!

If that's what you think, don't you set a plate at the table for me.

If that's what you think, don't you set my plate at the table!

Security, track number 8.

Security, track number 8.

A melancholy feeling came over me, I couldn't get rid of.

The motorhome was pointed backwards,

So, I had that depressing feeling that I was traveling in reverse.

Hello, kid.

Hey... kid!

Come over.

Come on, come over.

C'mon, get closer.

Hold it. Hold it!

- This your first time? - Yes.

Two Clouds.

"Two Clouds", that's my name.

I'm TS.

T for Tecumseh, S for Sparrow.

Sparrow, as in the bird?

Yes.

At the moment of my birth, a sparrow crashed through the window

and died, right down on the kitchen floor.

Follow me.

Step on.

C'mon!

You know why the right sole is more worn out than the left one?

Because one of your legs is shorter than the other?

Nope. Because these shoes belonged to Johnny Cash.

And he always kept the beat.

You think the dead sparrow in your kitchen, right when you were born

is a more credible story?

That's what mom told me.

Your mother gave birth in the kitchen, heh?

- You see it? - What?

The Sparrow.

Once upon a time,

there was a sparrow that was very ill

and didn't have the strength to go south.

Go without me, he told his children.

I'll find shelter from the cold

and I'll see you in spring.

So, did he survive?

The bird went to an oak tree

and asked if he could take shelter in his leaves.

But the oak was a cold and arrogant tree. He refused.

The peach, the aspen,

the willow, the elm,

they all said no. Can you believe this?

I guess.

Shh. Don't answer the question, it's part of the story.

Sorry.

Then, the first snows came.

The sparrow took a last chance with the pine tree, who said:

I can't offer you much protection,

I only have needles that let in drafts.

But my answer is...

yes.

Overjoyed, the sparrow took refuge, there.

And you know what?

He survived the winter!

The children returned and wept tears of joy.

Upon seeing this, the Creator decided to

punish all the other trees for their selfishness.

From that day on,

every tree lost its leaves in winter,

except the pine, who saved the sparrow.

My grandmother told me this story.

Had you ever heard it before?

You can answer now.

Story is finished!

The story is very pretty.

But, the insulating properties of pine needles

could not realistically create a warm enough cocoon,

for a bird the size of a sparrow.

Your grandmother lied to you.

So where were you headed, TS?

To buy me a hot dog.

The old sea dog!

Captain's Choice! Harrh!

Hurry, they close in 15 minutes.

Bye, Sparrow!

See you. Bye!

I'm sure you'll find your tree.

You too!

Dr. Clair,

this time, you can't stop me.

And what is the reason behind this embargo?

TS, do you know where the smell

of those marvellous sausages comes from?

It's from a smell factory, on the New Jersey Turnpike.

It was carefully designed and artificially synthesized

to maximize their desirability.

Need I go on?

Wanna drink with that?

- Sure, is it included? - Yeah, sure.

I'm gonna give you straw,

and one of my best hot dogs, I hope you like it.

Hey Marj.

Have a look at this.

Some kid out of Montana ran away,

or got himself kidnapped, or something.

Got anywhere to put that?

- Hm, just put it up on the board. - Thanks.

I know someone who ain't gonna be happy with you.

Your mom!

Just kiddin', young man.

But if you eat your hot dog before your dinner,

you ain't gonna hungry for the soup she made ya.

I don't have a mother around. My parents are dead.

You take care little guy.

See what happens to kids who go astray?

Hello!

Hello, TS?... My son!

You haven't been kidnapped?

Oh, thank God! What a relief.

Baby, baby, you know, you're right,

I've been wasting my time searching for the cicindele...

Son, we still got a situation with the creek.

You were spot on with that culvert.

What you say, you come right back and we work on your plans together?

TS, you have to come home You said you'd make my Halloween costume.

Come home, baby!

Maybe somewhere in one of these houses

a boy just woke up from the sound of my train.

Maybe he's wondering what it'd be like

to climb aboard and cross the desert.

I kinda just wanted to switch places with him

and just watch the train go away into the unknown.

I had to admit it.

I was not a careless drifter,

just a 10 year old boy, who ran away from home.

Any more of this and I'd soon be peeing on myself,

like when I was little

and afraid of a Jack O'Lantern's deadly fangs.

Layton, age 6.

TS, age 6.

Patterns of cross-talk and directional eyelines by T.S. Spivet.

Frequency of father's eye contact with TS: Nil.

Why?

Is it that TS is more like me?

He doesn't like who I am.

He doesn't love me.

He doesn't love me.

Of course he loves you!

You love each other!

If you make a baby, it means you love each other, right?

And they had three babies. Ain't that right?

I still catch myself wanting to wake him up for school.

Sorry!.. Sorry.

Stopped everything?...

What do you mean, in a maternal sense or a scientific one?

TS came to see me in my study;

for the first time since the accident.

I'm not really there, for TS, anymore.

I'm like an empty house.

Nature had vanished.

Every millimeter of landscape

was replaced by manmade constructions

ruled by the laws of geometry.

How could humans create so many right angles

when their behavior is so convoluted and illogical?

See you, old sea dog.

I'm sure you'll find your pine tree.

Playing hookey from kindergarten?

Hey!

I'm talking to you.

No, sir.

What you got in the bag?

Spray paint? You vandalizing, stitch? You paint that silo?

I like Chicago.

What?

[ Ukranian ]

Are you shitting me, stitch? Where you from?

Chernobyl.

Oh, Yeah? Well...

You little shit!

Welcome to the great state of Illinois.

And I'm sure you're gonna get to know it really well

after I book you for tresspassing, destruction of railroad priority...

Railroad "property".

What?

"Property". You said priority.

Get in the car!

Hey!

Gotch'ya!

Look, it's moving!

Ok, stitch, end of the line.

Thanks for the exercise, but...

let's go.

What? What you gonna do? You gonna jump?

C'mon, don't make me walk over there.

No! Hey, hey...

Hang on. Hang on, kiddie, alright! Hang on!

Oh, Jesus! Hang on, Jesus Christ!

Don't look down. Don't look down.

Get your foot up, c'mon.

Come on, you can do it. Come on!

Get your foot up. You can do it. You can lift that foot

Good. Oh!... oh!

Oh, you little shit!

You're very good.

Hey, you think you got away, huh?

Well done! Hey, over here!

You think you got away with this, huh?

Is that what you thinking, huh?

No way, kid!

Listen... Stitch, look at me! Look at me, stitch!

Look me in the eye. What's the matter? You don't wanna look in the eye?

Right here! I'm gonna find you!

I am gonna find you!

How you doin', man? You don't look so hot.

I'm ok.

I just fell down and hurt myself.

Where you headed for, like this, man?

To the Smithsonian.

Where?

D.C. as in Washington, man.

Name's Ricky.

- TS. - Put your seatbelt on, TS.

Yee... oww!

Show me.

That's the real deal!

- Hurt when you breathe? - M-hm!

You got maybe one, two broken ribs.

You seriously need to see a medic.

No, I'll be okay.

Tough little bugger, ain't ya?

Always take two pictures of hitchhikers;

one when I pick'em up,

one when I drop'em off.

See...

Even in the service, I was taking pictures.

That guy was a hitchhiker, too?

Well, not exactly.

What do you think?

Join the army, see the world, meet interesting people...

and kill'em.

The East.

Where are we?

Not far from where you're headed.

Not sure what you're looking for, but don't change a thing.

Steady in your boots.

Good luck, man.

I'm not sure what you're looking for either,

but I'm sure you'll find your pine tree, man.

Young man, are you alright? Are you injured?

Cathy, I need information.

You look like you need medical assistance.

I would like to speak with Mrs. G. H. Jibsen, please.

I'm supposed to give a speech tomorrow night.

What's your name?

T.S. Spivet.

Just one moment.

You're T.S. Spivet?...

Or your father is T.S. Spivet?

I am T.S. Spivet.

He claims that he is, actually, T.S. Spivet.

He's 9 or 10 years old

and very, very, very...

small.

Alright, that would be wonderful, thank you.

Miss Jibsen is on her way down.

You can have a seat over there.

Thank you.

You're here?

Never too far away, you know.

Yeah, I know.

See?... Made it to the Smithsonian.

Hm...

The worst is yet to come.

Can help you, young man?

- Mrs. Jibsen? - M-hm! - Hello.

I'm T.S. Spivet. I made it here.

You're the one I talked to, on the phone, last Friday?

Yes.

So, where's your father?

In fact, he's dead.

I lied to you, then.

So, who sent me the prototype of the magnetic wheel?

I did.

Oh...

What, you expect me to belive that you invented it?

Not really.

- I didn't invent anything. - Hm!

I just transposed the principle of

an electron gravitating around the nucleus.

But as you know, to simulate its perpetual motion

would require the creation of negative entropy.

Which is simply not possible.

You must agree, right?

This can't...

This can't be. How old are you?

- Ten. - Ten?

- Ah, oh... - Aaahh!

We're not gonna be able to turn him into a great communicator,

but with the right clothes and some solid talking points, no problem.

Oh, yes, in his eyes, I am "the" scientific authority.

I'm everything he admires.

Yes. Okay, I'll talk to you later.

So... you need to keep him?

Nope.

But with multiple fractures, he needs to rest.

Avoid any abrupt movement

and not cough or laugh.

Good luck.

How do you feel?

Like that mule, done, kicked me good.

It's my dad's expression.

Yes, you must miss your parents very much.

- Aah! - Oh! Oh!

I'm so sorry!

So, I talked to some colleagues at the Smithsonian.

And everybody is ecstatic that you've been chosen for this award.

You'll have to give me their names. I'll thank them in my speech.

On that topic, um...

I think we can cook something up for you.

I prefer to write my own speech. Thank you.

OK.

You certainly don't waste any time about it, do you?

No, this is a purple note book.

If I'll be writing my speech, it'll be in the red one.

Oh? Yes, of course. And the purple one is for...?

General observations.

Such as?

When does a child become an adult?

Oh... And?

When you don't get excited about Christmas,

When you wear reading glasses around your neck

but can't seem to find them anywhere.

When you pay income tax and enjoy getting angry discussing:

what the heck are they going to do with all your money.

And when you look down on children

whatever's going on in their little heads.

If 2x goes into 100 and x is an integer,

how many of the 2x+2 integers

will be divisible by 3 and by 2?

2x-1 = 3x+1, what is x?

How many positive integers less than 5,000

are evenly divisible by either 15 or 21?

Whatcha doin'?

I'm like a dolphin.

Turning one side of my brain, off and other one, on.

'S that what dolphins do?

Yeah, to sleep.

You're funny.

Why?

You travelled by yourself half-way across United States

to end up like a lab rat?!

This defies all understanding!

Superior mental activity. Hm!

Superior to an average of an ocean mammal, that is.

You could train him like a highly intelligent seal.

Ah... I'm sorry,

but you don't invent the perpetual movement machine

by balancing a ball on your nose!

Thanks for evaluating my brain, Jodie.

Would you like some tuna tartare and grilled asparagus

sprinkled with a balsamic vinegar reduction?

Sir, why are you hiding your white glove behind your back?

That's just how they tell me to stand.

Otherwise, I'd get fired.

Well, I like your white gloves. Congratulations.

Thanks.

I almost forgot this.

In case someone mistakes you for a kid whose parents couldn't round up...

...a babysitter.

Sorry.

I want to be the first to congratulate you.

We are so lucky to have a boy like you. So lucky!

What was your first invention?

Do you think your parents will be proud of you?

What is your astrological sign?

So, any other questions?

Did you ever think that you'd find another suitable candidate?

I remember sitting in my office,

before I called him, on the ranch.

And I said to myself,

he's only 10, but let's do this!

They're eating you up, they love you.

In 1862 a Frenchman named Guillaume Duchenne

discovered the difference between fake and genuine smiles.

In a fake smile, it's not just the zygomatic muscles that work,

the muscles around the eyes also contract unconsciously.

Tonight it was entirely ocular-zygomaticus.

Ladies and gentlemen,

please welcome the President of the Smithsonian,

Dr. Leonard Sullivan.

Thank you very much ladies and gentlemen

and thank you to our guest of honor.

At a time when science is being challenged at every turn,

when we are witnessing a return to intellectual obscurity,

I can not resist the temptation

to quote Albert Einstein.

He said...

"Only two things are infinite:

"the universe and human stupidity...

"and I'm not sure about the former."

But I know of a third example:

human genius.

Our guest of honor tonight is a magnificient example of this.

I invite you to show him

all the respect he deserves,

despite his young years.

Ladies and gentlemen, T.S. Spivet!

Uh...

Hello everybody.

My name is T.S. Spivet,

I am 10 years old

and I am actually in sixth grade.

Is there anyone in this room,

who doesn't already, at least, have a PhD?

Anyone?

So, I probably won't be teaching you much tonight.

But I like to tell you three things.

First,

thank you.

Thank you for not cancelling my award

'cause I was younger than you expected.

Second, the wheel.

As you can see there is power by magnets.

Yet as you know,

they demagnetize within approximately 400 years.

On a human scale, it sounds like a lot.

In geological time, it's not even a fraction of a second.

So, we're actually far from having achieved perpetual motion.

Any questions?

Yes, what's the third point?

Oh yes, the third.

My brother died this year.

He shot himself in the barn.

No one talks about it.

No one ever said, Layton shot himself in the barn.

No one.

Layton and me, we were always very different.

I'd be doing my science experiments,

and he'd be shooting empty bean cans and coyotes with his Winchester.

So, I came up with this idea to make sound waves maps of the gunshots.

That way we could play at something, together.

He would shoot and I'd gather the data.

But, then...

one of his Winchesters jammed.

I held the bottom of the rifle to help out.

I didn't even touch the trigger.

There was an explosion.

Layton flew across the room.

Blood...

dripped off the hay.

He was there,

but he wasn't my brother anymore.

I was alone.

I ran to the field to get my father.

His face clenched up when I said Layton had hurt himself badly.

He ran back, and I stayed there,

not knowing where to go.

Then I ran to the house and hid in the bathroom.

I could hear my father whispering on the phone.

And through the window I saw the ambulance pull up,

without the flashing lights.

After a while, Gracie showed up.

She was crying.

She sat next to me and hugged me.

We stayed a long time like that.

Lying on the floor without talking.

Well...

I wanted you to know how proud I am to get this award.

I'll do my best to fulfill your trust in me,

and to be in the service of science.

That's all I had to say. Thank you.

The amazing thing about water drops,

is that they always take the path of least resistance.

For humans,

it's exactly the opposite.

When Layton died,

Tapioca started chewing metal buckets till his gums bled.

Layton and Tapioca had been inseparable.

And then one day,

Gracie took him for a long walk through the meadow.

They sat for a while facing the mountains.

They two returned with a new kind of understanding in their eyes.

Tapioca stopped chewing metal buckets.

He went back to snapping at fireflies, just like before.

As if he had made peace with losing his master.

Maybe someday, I'll go back to snapping at fireflies, too.

I swear to you.

They loved... They loved the kid! I mean...

granted they're just a bunch of scientists,

but if their reaction is anything like

the way the general public are gonna respond,

we've got a gold mine on our hands here!

People are so predictable!

It's nuts, really.

I should write a handbook on how to move the masses.

Hang on.

Honey, smile!

TS, you know, I think it'd be better

if you were sketching in your notebook.

But, I didn't bring one.

Sally, can we have a notebook here, quick.

Hang on a minute, problem with the kid.

There you go.

But, it's not the right colour. I'd never sketch on a green notebook.

Honey, it's just a photograph, nobody cares.

OK, so, where were we? Oh Yeah.

Its amazing! Wow! Thank you.

Woah!

Now, I don't want to get your hopes up, but...

listen to this.

The White House is sniffing around!

The White House?

The President's State of the Union Address is next week

and they love having the talking points in the audience.

I can hear 'em now,

"Look, the American education system is working."

What we really need are pictures of your parents.

Especially your brother.

Preferably holding a gun,

with you in the background, that'd be perfect.

Tomorrow, we go to New York to do Letterman

and possibly 60 Minutes, although that's not firmed up, yet.

I mean, if they could just cut through the crap and make up their minds.

I just don't have time to dilly-dally.

We have people lining up to book us.

Attention everyone, we're live in 6 minutes.

There you go, honey.

You look like a movie star.

Ok, listen up, TS.

This show's rating is through the roof,

but, they're gonna wanna ambush you.

It's just the price you have to pay, got it?

He's gonna talk about Layton, for sure.

So, you saw the accident... Oh!

You saw the accident, you didn't understand what happened,

you ran for help. That's it. Remember...

do not express any kind of guilt.

You listening?

Not until we consult with our lawyers. You understood all that?

We're live in 5 minutes.

You're gonna go back to the green room.

W... no, surely, it's normal for a representative of the Smithsonian...

Miss Jibsen, you will love our green room.

You can watch the entire show, there, on a monitor.

But he's only 10, I mean,...

- TS, call me Roy. - Hello, Roy.

First time on TV?

Lets do it.

Aah, aah...

Roy!

We're live in 10 seconds.

On the air in 10, 9, 8...

7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2...

Camera one...

One!

My guest tonight has dominated this week's headlines.

He is to science what Mozart is to music.

T.S. Spivet, just 10 years old,

and he had sprinted ahead of legions of scientists

to win this year's coveted Baird Award.

TS, you are 10 years old,

You're an orphan, you grew up on a remote ranch in Montana,

your dad wanted you to be a cowboy. Am I right so far?

Um, yes.

Coppertop Ranch, 4.73 miles

north of the Divide, 14.92 mi...

Tell me TS, how does a 10 year old win the Baird Award?

Did the proverbial apple just fall...

on your head and 'light-bulb'!

you invent the perpetual motion machine?

It actually already existed.

What we needed to invent was a system to...

At an age when most 10 year olds are climbing trees,

what do you do for fun?

Trigonometry?

I like climbing trees.

Right...

you've been conducting scientific experiments

since the age of 4.

Last year, one of those went

tragically wrong and resulted in the death

of your twin brother, Layton.

I didn't understand what happened.

I ran to get help, that's all.

OK.

And oddly, the time has come to take a look

at this extraordinary invention.

This is the first perpetual motion machine

in the history of mankind.

Well, TS, how does it work?

Liza, do you see him?

That's my brother. I can't believe this. He's on TV!

I mean, this is the same spaz

that wore Velcro on his shoes until he was 8 years old

because he couldn't tie his own laces.

He's on TV!

Remember that time when he almost electrocuted me with his seismograph?

Oh, let's not mention that on TV.

TS, how long can the little wheel turn

and produce energy

without consuming energy?

400 years, then you have to recharge the magnets.

400?!... 400 years!

Are you saying, if this machine were 100 times larger

it could power all of the lights in this building for 400 years

without spending a dime in electricity?

Well, you still have to change the light bulbs.

Given the ratio of lighting to square footage,

that's still a significant cost.

I think the time has come to introduce a very special guest,

TS's mother, Dr. Clair.

Hello, TS.

Hello, Mom.

Oh...

Fuck!

Dr. Clair, you have come here directly from Montana.

You are TS's mother, correct?

Yes. That's right.

Fuck.

TS, why did you say in the media that you

were an orphan, is this some spin coming from the Smithsonian?

I don't know.

I thought they'd send me back home before I could receive the award.

Dr. Clair, you must have been worried sick.

I mean, he's (so small).

Yes, well, when a child disappears,

the world stops turning.

But, surely you must have been very angry, when you heard...

With all the respect you asked me a question,

I would like to finish my answer.

When your child disappears

well, you'll lose your sanity.

Some will channel their anger by kicking goats out of barbwire.

I'm sorry, 'goats'?! We're talking, goats?

Others will search for beetles that don't exist.

Those who disappear, merely take a train that's never coming back

so, sometimes you just stop by the tracks,

and stare at the rails.

So you read my journal?

I'm sorry.

I know it's not right.

What about giving a gun to a child as a gift?

Or letting two kids play

with a gun, in a barn,

unsupervised.

You think that's right?

That's good question actually. TS...

what happened in the barn?

TS?

Wasn't your fault, TS.

It wasn't your fault.

It wasn't.

It wasn't anyone's fault.

It was an accident.

As your father said,

what happened...

just happened.

OK, I think,

TS, Dr. Clair,

W-we should have a moment.

J-just forget the cameras

and the audience,

and just, maybe...

Hug?

Cry, touch, maybe?

Actually, I wanna ask you about beauty pageants.

I know Miss America

and Miss USA are different, - Mom.

but the criteria they use is shameful..

But, why?...

MOM! MOM!

...who gets the crown, necessarily, be a ravishing beauty...

- Mom! - and underfed...

What?

Oh, Yeah.

You wanna stay here, or go?

- Go. - OK.

A river of emotion.

No, no, come back!

This is a 20 minute interview, there's 9 minutes left.

Oh, no...

This is reality, this is better than science.

This is cable TV!

You're a filthy little liar.

You're a little motherfucker.

Wait, wait! Oh! Wait!

Where do you think you're going?

To Coppertop ranch.

Cut, cut!

You OK?

Reckon if you're OK, that's all that counts!

My boy's OK.

So, I'm mute and I'm dead?

Sorry, Dad.

How come you didn't stop that morning

when you saw me on the road?

Rancher's honor, I never saw you.

I need a box of biscuits, a box of mixed biscuits

and a biscuit mixer.

I need a box of biscuits, a box of mixed biscuits

and a biscuit mixer.

Are you talking to me or are you talking to the peanut butter?

Its a diction exercise, moron.

You'd be better off trying some yourself if you ever...

ever make it on TV, again.

You've got some work to do in the public speaking department.

How about you just show us how it's done the day you're in a movie.

Yeah, or in the running for Miss Montana.

Or a reality show about a normal person

living with a bunch of insane, hostile degenerates.

Speaking of which, does anyone know

if or when your father is showing up for breakfast?

You guys still haven't made up?

Look, I know goats eat everything, including paper.

I get it, I get it.

But... But, the fact that one of them

climbed through the kitchen window and ate all my notes

on the female Ontophagus Sagittarius, and how it copulates with its horns

that is inexcusable. Ayi!

It's okay, it's okay...

It's just kicking.

I thought you're going to give birth in the kitchen again.

Again? I never gave birth in the kitchen.

Really?

Then, why is my name Sparrow?

No, that was Gracie's idea.

She found a dead sparrow

here in the kitchen, the day I had you in the hospital.♥

So she concluded that you were the reincarnation of the sparrow.

I know when I die, an elephant will be born.

No, no, no...

No, no, please, please...

Statistically speaking,

there are better chances that next newborn Spivet, will be

the reincarnation...

of a toaster.

In the meantime,

I had only one month left to finish my plans

for a new perpetual motion machine.

♪Subtitles: ANS, corrected by♪ Asifakheir☻♥

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