Ghost Town Page #9

and I went down deep,

but when I turned around

to make it back to the top,

I couldn't, no matter how hard I swam.

Drowning. He dived into the water,

and it didn't matter how hard he tried

to get back to the surface, he couldn't.

That's right, isn't it?

Not even close.

No!

You know the first time I met you?

And then the next 10 or 12 times

after that, I thought, "What a jerk."

But then I got to know you

a little bit, right?

And I convinced myself

that I saw something human in you.

You know,

"Maybe he's just a little eccentric,

"needs a little work."

But to use intimate details

about my dead husband

in order to get close to me,

or for God knows what other reason,

that's unforgivable.

You're sick.

- I love you.

- Don't call me!

You lied. Why would you do that?

Because you're

a heartless son of a b*tch

who doesn't give a rat's ass

about anyone but himself.

She's already had one of those.

See you around, Dentist.

- What?

- It's my daughter.

Yeah, you mentioned

something about that.

She won't speak to her sister,

her only sister.

She's so angry about the necklace I left,

but I slipped a letter under her door

the day before I died.

It explained everything.

But there was carpeting in the entryway.

I didn't know

the letter went under the carpet.

She never got it.

My God, you're boring, aren't you?

My little boy has a stuffed animal,

a squirrel.

It was his favorite.

He took it everywhere.

Couldn't get to sleep without it.

But he lost it on the day I died.

They don't know it's just

under the front seat of the car.

It's right there, they just can't see it.

So now, he cries himself to sleep

without it every night,

because to him that toy is me.

I can't help you.

You mean you won't help us.

Isn't that the truth?

Yeah, I'll tell you

what else is true, shall I?

We live alone and then we die alone.

And, apparently, we stay alone.

That's the truth, too, isn't it?

- You idiot!

- I'm sorry!

Unbelievable! Come on.

- Hello.

- What a day.

Yeah, well, it appears that

winter is upon us.

- Hail.

- What?

It doesn't even have

the decency to snow.

Is there any more stupid form

of precipitation than hail?

- No, I suppose that is the stupidest.

- Jahangir?

- Yeah.

- We're friends.

- Well...

- Associates.

- Yeah.

- We have things in common.

- Yeah.

- We share stuff and...

Panoramic X-ray machine, for example.

- Yeah.

- We're close.

- No, I wouldn't say that.

- Not close, but... What the...

Well, that's not the point, is it?

Listen.

I met a woman.

The kind of a woman that

makes you want to go back in time

to before you met her.

Whatever the hell life was like then,

it's not as bad as the hell now.

Knowing she's out there

and you can't have her.

What I'm trying to say is

could you write me

a prescription for Percocet?

What?

Well, I can't prescribe myself, can I?

Legally. It's for my sleep

and to pretend she never happened.

Or Darvon.

Or Vicodin.

Just like a 30 count, or 60,

if you don't want

me to keep bothering you.

And I'll be out of your hair.

I'm not even gonna ask for morphine.

Come with me.

- What are we doing?

- Just sit down.

- No.

- Sit down.

- Why?

- Just sit down.

- Oh, look, never mind.

- This is important. Look.

- Brilliant.

- The other one.

Yep. As mass-produced poster

slogans go, that's good.

Dr. Pincus, at some point in your life,

you're gonna have to stop,

and ask yourself the ultimate question.

"This business of

"being such a f***ing prick,

"what is it really getting me?"

You said something about a letter.

You should try it on.

Mom! Look what I found!

What? Where'd you find this?

Where did it come from?

It fell out of his backpack.

Thank you.

Dr. Pincus?

Hi. Sorry, I didn't...

Thank you. Thank you so much!

I never realized.

Thanks.

...many insights into the life

and death of King Pepi.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Thank you very much. Thank you.

Gwen!

What are you doing here?

I've got to talk to you.

I've figured it out.

Please leave me alone.

It's all rubbish.

What they tell us in ghost stories,

I think they've got it completely wrong.

Ghost stories.

Could you not do this here tonight?

Look at Pepi. Okay, they buried him with

everything a dead guy doesn't need.

Household pets, money.

They even put his penis in a big jar.

Why would they do that?

But you saw that penis.

It wouldn't have fit in a little jar.

No, not why did they put it in a big...

Why'd they put it in a jar at all? Why?

What?

Why would they go to all that trouble for

someone they'll never see again?

Because they love him

and they want to make sure

he'll be okay.

Because if they know he's okay...

- Yes, they can let him go.

- You were fabulous.

Thank you. That's very sweet of you.

Appreciate it.

Exactly. They can let him go.

Frank's haunting you, Gwen. Let him go.

If he's haunting me,

then shouldn't he let me go?

No. He can't. It's not him. It's you.

All this stuff about ghosts

having unfinished business,

it's us that are unfinished.

Let Frank go.

Let the pervert decay in peace.

Please, stop following me.

- It was wonderful! Thank you so much.

- Yes, it's nice to see you both.

That came out all wrong.

I don't care how you knew

all that stuff about Frank, okay?

- I don't care.

- I told you, I'm trying to...

Maybe you guys were

a couple of buddies.

- How about that?

- No, no, no, no, no...

Two regular guys while he was alive,

and you went out drinking

and went to strip clubs

- and talked about your girlfriends...

- Oh, my God.

...and laughed at your wives...

- I swear.

- What was the matter with me?

Why didn't he love me?

I did love you. I still do.

He did love you.

Then why wasn't I enough?

You've got nothing to say to that,

have you?

- What?

- Useless.

Please. What do you think

I'm gonna do, change?

- Well...

- In all your life,

have you ever actually known anybody

who's changed at all, ever?

Why can't you make an effort,

just for a few seconds?

I am who I am.

I suppose you're talking

to him right now?

- Is that what you want me to believe?

- What do you want to tell him?

- What do you want to say?

- I want an answer!

I want to know

why I wasn't enough for him.

It wasn't you that wasn't enough.

It wasn't you that wasn't enough.

I don't know why I did

the sh*t that I did.

And he doesn't know

why he did the things he did.

And you don't get any smarter

just because you're dead.

You don't get smarter after you die.

But I did see one thing,

how much I hurt you.

But he's seen

how much he hurt you. And...

I'm so sorry, honey.

- What? What'd he say?

- He said he's sorry.

That's it?

He's sorry?

Well, it was the way

he said it, it was...

He's sorry. He's sorry.

- Heartfelt.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Heartfelt.

Good guess. I got to go pack.

No, you should have heard it!

I'm really not doing it justice!

Gwen! Wait!

Why should I talk to you?

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