Papa Hemingway in Cuba Page #6

Sometimes, better than I could.

It's all I cared about.

It's not coming anymore.

What do you do about that?

- Quite the party.

- Mmm.

Everyone who's anyone in Havana is here.

Must have cost a fortune

to close this place down.

Well, it's only money, lamb.

There is an old Cuban saying.

"Some people are very poor,

they only have money."

Always loved Paris.

Liked sex, too.

Henry Miller made both seem dirty.

I met Henry Miller when I was working

at the Chicago Daily News.

Oh, he was this intensely charismatic...

What did you think of Thomas Wolfe?

Oh...

Confused size

with writing.

He was a large man, wasn't he?

Well, how do you like it now, gentlemen?

Excuse me.

Well, that was another hugely

successful evening, wasn't it?

Though I have to say if I hear

those hackneyed phrases one more time,

I think I'm gonna go insane.

What was it again, Papa?

"Ooh, how do you like it now, gentlemen?"

Or the classic.

"When the chips are down."

Oh, gosh! What has happened to your

vaunted wit, your incredible charm?

Oh, I must say, it didn't seem

to go down too well with...

What was his name's daughter?

The one you were all over?

I hate to say it, but you're leaning

towards being a big, bloody bore.

What? Excuse me!

Would you mind with the door, old man?

I want to thank you

for working so diligently

to cheer me up on my 59th birthday,

dried-up old b*tch.

I heard that.

I am not the limp-dick,

impotent one in this marriage!

Mary.

What are you doing?

Don't walk away from me

when I'm talking to you!

You're not talking to me,

you're screaming at me!

What happened? This used to be paradise.

Surely it seems like they have everything.

This gorgeous place.

Plenty of money.

Good looks, good health, fame.

But there's something missing

for both of them.

Love and friendship.

A willingness and a desire

to put aside your own ego

to enrich the day-by-day experience

of your beloved.

That's what they're missing, kid.

It's like being under siege.

Most marriages are.

Mine sure was.

Evan once wrote a poem.

"Maybe the peace we all seek

is but a dream."

No!

- Papa!

- Hey, give it to me!

Eddie, take it!

- No, Papa. Come on. Stop.

- Give it!

No! No, you stop.

There's nothing for me in life anymore.

I can't write.

I can't f***!

I can end this shitty life, my choice.

- Give me the gun.

- No, Eddie, don't.

Give me the gun, kid.

You don't have to do this.

You know I can take it from you.

Be a good boy.

Give it to me.

If I give it to you,

what're you gonna do with it?

What I have to.

You don't have to do this.

Listen to him, Papa. Listen to him.

We're all gonna die sometime, kid.

What does it matter?

Give me the gun!

No.

I don't want to hurt you.

You're gonna have to kill me.

What the f*** right do you have

to say no to me?

Who the f*** are you?

Hey, I love you.

I love you, Papa.

There's another one here, Hem.

I'm another guy who loves you.

We're not gonna let you do this, Hem.

Hem!

- Stop it! Stop it!

- Damn it!

Give me the gun!

Don't... Don't do it.

Lamb...

I want you to stop this now.

This has all gone too far.

No good now.

You're not being rational, love.

I'm completely rational.

My head is good.

Clear.

I know what I'm doing.

I want to die.

Before it all turns to real sh*t,

and it will, believe it.

No, I won't believe that.

We've had times of great

and good happiness, haven't we?

Sure.

Good old times.

We can still have fresh,

brand-new good times, right?

I'm just a worthless, impotent, old man.

You said it.

But I didn't mean it.

I'm sorry that I said that, I...

We both say things in anger

that we don't mean.

I'm your wife.

And I love you.

And I couldn't live without you.

You never said that before.

Haven't I?

I'm different from other people, I...

I can't. I couldn't.

Understood.

Me, too.

We're two pretty f***ed-up people.

Let's never get married again.

Certainly not to each other.

You make a decision, kid, make it carefully.

Know what you truly want.

Consider every possible consequence,

or you'll wind up wondering

what the hell happened.

Go away.

I have to tell you something.

I don't want to hear it.

I don't want to talk to you.

You may think I'm an accessory in your life,

but I'm not.

I don't need you. I'm fine.

I don't need anything from you.

I don't want to hear from you.

I just want you to leave me alone.

I love you.

I love you.

Most of what I learned

about how to live life

I learned from Papa.

One thing he once told me

became that little legacy of compassion,

this wisdom I had so desperately wanted

from my father.

And I've lived by it.

He said, "The only value we have as human

beings is the risks we're willing to take."

Papa committed suicide with a shotgun

at his home in Ketchum, Idaho

18 months later.

July 2nd, 1961.

There was no suicide note

since Papa could no longer write.

After it all,

I guess what he really wanted

was to have true love.

He once wrote,

"A man alone ain't got no chance."

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