Big Trouble Page #4

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- No, I didn't.

You're hearing things, darling.

We better get started.

I'll go put this in the trunk.

You're going the wrong way.

Leonard, turn around.

The station's the other way.

Leonard, look,

we're passing a cemetery.

It's deserted here.

I don't know. I give up. I'm lost.

Now!

Now what?

Is it over yet?

No, Jesus!

Don't! Get it off of him, goddamn it!

Get it off!

I don't wanna hear it! No!

It's a mercy killing.

It's all right. It's euthanasia. Euthanasia.

We're all better off.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

He's better off. He's in a better place.

I swear to God. He's in a better place.

There's no reason to cry.

He didn't suffer. He went right out.

I just... I didn't even hear

him make a sound.

I did. It was kind of like a:

Stop that!

Let's go through the plan again.

Get on the train.

2 miles past Windsor Heights,

you jump off.

- 2.1 miles!

- 2.1 miles past Windsor Heights.

- Take this key.

- Right.

Open car 12.

- Jump out.

- You'll be there with the car.

- I'll flash the lights twice if it's okay.

- Check.

- What check?

- Check. It means yes.

- All aboard!

- Everything's gonna be just fine.

Big kiss, darling. And your bag.

- Do you need some help?

- Whoa!

- Upsy-daisy.

- Thank you.

He won't take help from anyone.

That's just the kind of man he is.

Come on, get on the train!

- Everything all right, darling?

- Yes.

Now, have a wonderful time

at that Army reunion...

...and give my best to all

the old Army buddies.

- Beautiful night, isn't it?

- Rickey. Steve Rickey.

What?

What's the matter?

Forget something?

Can I help? What's the matter?

- Valium. My pills.

- Oh, your pills. Where are they?

- Three cars back.

- It's back there?

- Yeah.

- Oh, certainly. I'll get it for you.

You stay here.

I don't mind helping out at all.

- All right.

- Three cars back?

Third seat on the right.

You know,

you have an interesting way of talking.

- You sound kind of like an engine.

- Oh, yeah.

Well, I'll go get that pill case.

I always feel sorry for a guy on sticks.

- I'm happy to do it. I'll get your pills.

- Thank you very much.

Okay, three cars back.

Blanche?

Blanche?

Who is it?

Blanche?

Blanche, is that you?

Of course it's me.

- Are you alone?

- No! No, I'm not alone!

I've got a dead body with me,

Leonard. Honestly.

Blanche?

Oh, God, it was terrible. The man

on the train wouldn't leave me alone.

What are you doing?

Wouldn't stop talking.

Wouldn't leave me alone.

Almost drove me crazy.

- I couldn't get away from him.

- Damn it, Steve!

Look what you made me do to you!

Let's go.

- You can't leave him here.

- You do it. I can't. I've done enough.

I jumped off about 200 yards that way.

It's the wrong place!

You can't leave him

with a blanket on!

Leonard, hurry up.

Wait, I said! Jesus Christ!

Can't leave the blanket on him.

Nobody jumps off trains

with blankets on them!

Why didn't you just roll him

in the damn thing?

There's a million safety pins!

I'm coming! Goddamn it!

Okay.

Okay, okay, okay.

You're going to Yale.

It's good, it's good.

- resting in the weeds nearby,

clothes battered and dusty.

He ask ed for his Valium, and then death.

Losing his balance, police think,

and tumbling from the train.

Steve Rick ey.

"A nice fella," George Noozel,

a passing stranger, calls him.

- "A man of few words." Tonight...

- What are you...?

- Quiet! I gotta hear this!

- All right. Jesus! I'm sorry.

A man whose face

is virtually unrecognisable.

Ripped to shreds, the police say,

by the force of the fall.

The last person to see Rick ey alive,

the poodle salesman George Noozel.

- Do we have cream soda in the house?

- Nobody has cream soda in their house.

- I'm gonna go get some cream soda.

- Leonard, at 10 past 11?

- I got the urge.

- Nothing's open!

- 7-Eleven!

- Not dressed like that!

- They don't care.

- This is crazy!

You're moaning in the hallway,

now you're off to buy cream soda!

- There's someone else!

- There's nobody else.

What am I doing wrong?

What am I doing wrong, Leonard?

- I'm doing something for the boys.

- In your robe?

Listen to me. It's complicated.

It's very unusual.

It's extremely unusual, but I can't talk!

I'm coming... I'll be right in a bit.

I'm coming back.

Leonard? Leonard?! Get me something

crunchy to eat!

- Hi. This is Blanche Rick ey...

- What did you do to his face?!

- Hi. I'm Steve Rick ey. I'm...

- What did you do to his face?!

If you have a message for either...

I feel terrible about this thing.

I'm not blaming you.

It could've happened to anyone.

Some coincidence. Two days

after they buy the policy. Jesus!

- I feel terrible about this.

- Yeah, well, tell him.

- Mr. O'Mara's here for his appointment.

- Yes, yes, send him in.

- Well, gentlemen.

- Sir.

- Morning.

- Morning.

Morning, sir.

Come in, come in.

We've been waiting for you.

This is the grieving widow,

Mrs. Blanche Rickey.

Mrs. Rickey, this is Mr. O'Mara,

head of our claims division.

Ma'am, my condolences.

I'd like to introduce Mrs. Rickey's

attorney, Mr. Lloyd Nagle.

Gentlemen, my pleasure.

One of these mornings

makes you feel glad to be alive.

You all right, Hoffman?

The wife's cooking, eh?

Mr. Nagle, why don't you join us?

Get things underway.

Fabulous coffee.

Has that real Colombian flavour.

Really starts the day off right. As

an attorney, that's extremely important.

I'm sure it is.

Mr. Nagle, Mr. O'Mara,

Mr. Hoffman.

My pleasure, gentlemen. I only wish

the circumstances were more pleasant.

No, stay there, Mr. Nagle.

We'll join you.

Mrs. Rickey, we're gonna join

Mr. Nagle, your attorney.

Are you all right?

- Is there anything I can get for you?

- I'm fine.

So ironic, isn't it, Mr. Hoffman?

Just a couple of days ago

we were all together.

Laughing. Alive.

Well, it's been a very disturbing time

for all of us.

One thing I'm grateful for. They were able

to restore Steve's face just like new.

- Ripped up, the cops said.

- It wasn't nice.

We saw the remains last night. He looked

like linguine with red clam sauce.

I just looked at him and said:

Be ye my bonny, bonny lad

Be ye my bonny, bonny lad

When the heather is yorn

And the calves go free to Loch Lomond

And be ye my bonny, bonny lad

When the lard goes twinkle, twinkle,

We to purse

Sometime in late August

It's Robert Burns.

Mr. Rickey's favourite poet

in Tiparillo.

Yes, yes.

Mrs. Rickey, we understand

the unfortunate circumstances...

...that bring us together today.

But due to the bizarre and grotesque

nature of your husband's death, we...

- We must ask you a few questions.

- Of course.

Mr. O'Mara, would you...?

I know this has been a rough day

for you, so I'll be as brief as possible.

We would appreciate that.

Thank you.

Mrs. Rickey...

...do you know what the odds are

of someone dying by falling off a train?

No, I don't. I've always been so lucky.

What could it be?

5-to-1? 10-to-1?

- Approximately a billion-to-1.

- No kidding? Really?

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