Stranger Than Fiction Page #8

Choke on a mint.

Some long, drawn-out disease

you contracted on vacation.

You will die. You will absolutely die.

Even if you avoid this death,

another will find you.

And I guarantee that it won't be nearly

as poetic or meaningful...

...as what she's written.

I'm sorry...

...but it's the nature of all tragedies,

Harold.

The hero dies,

but the story lives on forever.

- There's an empty seat right there.

- No, I wanna sit down over here.

Kay?

Kay?

How many people

do you think I've killed?

- Kay.

- How many?

- I don't know.

- Eight.

- Kay--

- I've killed eight people. I counted.

They're fictional. Get up.

Harold Crick isn't fictional.

- I don't--

- He isn't fictional, Penny.

Every book I've ever written ends

with someone dying. Every one.

Really nice people too.

The book about Helen

the schoolteacher.

I killed her

the day before summer vacation.

How cruel is that?

And the civil engineer, Edward.

The one I trapped...

...with a heart attack in rush hour.

I killed him.

I killed... .

Penny, I killed them all.

Miss Eiffel? Miss Eiffel?

- Harold.

- Hi.

- I just finished it.

- You just... .

Yeah, I read it all in one read

on the bus.

It's lovely.

I like the part about the guitars.

Well, thanks, thanks. Goo--

Well, listen, I'm--

No, I read it and I loved it.

And there's only one way it can end.

I mean, I don't have much background

in literary anything...

...but this seems simple enough.

I love your book.

And I think you should finish it.

The night before his death...

... Harold unsuspectingly went about

some usual business.

He finished his outstanding audits.

He made a few phone calls

he had been putting off.

Listen, does your program

have an age limit?

And he traveled to Ms. Pascal's...

... where she made him meat loaf

and chocolate pudding...

... and the two watched old movies.

It was a nice enough evening.

And in any other circumstance

it would've seemed commonplace.

In fact, the only thing

that made this night significant...

... was the morning it preceded.

I have to tell you something.

You do?

I do.

- Is it a secret?

- Sort of.

Tell me.

I adore you.

I adore you too.

- That it?

- No.

I have to tell you this.

I just want you to listen carefully.

Okay.

You can deduct the value

of all the food you give away...

...as a charitable contribution.

- Harold.

No, no, no. In fact it amounts to more

than what you're currently withholding.

And it doesn't break any tax laws.

Harold, the point

is to break the tax laws.

I wanna make the world

a better place too, Ana.

I think that means

keeping you out of jail.

Okay.

Okay?

- Yeah.

- Okay.

If you come over here...

...and talk a little more tax talk

in my ear.

Because I like it so much.

Much had changed for Harold

over the past few weeks:

His attitude towards work.

His habitual counting.

His love life.

But of all the transmutations

Harold Crick had undergone...

... perhaps the most significant

was that today on his return to work...

... he was not late

for the 8:
17 Kronecker bus.

What Harold had not understood...

... about that Wednesday

four weeks prior...

... was that the time he received from

his fellow commuter...

... was, in fact, three full minutes

later than the actual time...

... and, therefore, three full minutes

later...

... than the time to which his watch

and life had been previously set.

Not the worst of errors.

But if Harold had not set his watch

to the incorrect time...

... Harold would have again

barely caught the 8: 17 Kronecker bus.

And he would not be approaching

the bus stop...

... precisely at 8: 14

this particular Friday.

Excuse me.

Harold?

An otherwise ignorable fact...

... until the unthinkable occurred.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

I need for everyone

to just stay seated.

Come on, son.

- What happened? I didn't see him.

- It was not your fault.

He was trying to help the boy.

Get your supervisor.

I don't believe this.

- It was all my fault, though.

- No, it wasn't.

Is he okay?

- It looks likes he's breathing.

- I don't think he's breathing.

Oh, my God.

Come in.

Excuse me.

Are you Professor Hilbert?

Yes.

Hi. I'm Karen Eiffel.

I believe we have

a mutual acquaintance.

Please, sit down.

No, I just came by to... .

Here.

- Is that it?

- Yes.

Have you read it?

Is that all right?

Yes.

I think, perhaps, you may be

interested in the new ending.

Good afternoon.

Oh, hi.

It's a pretty brave thing you did.

Stepping in front of that bus

was pretty brave.

Kind of stupid, but pretty brave.

Oh, yeah.

Is that boy okay?

He's just fine. Scratched up is all.

Oh, good.

Am I okay?

Well, you're not dead.

On the other hand, it looks like

you cracked your head...

...you broke three bones

in your leg and foot...

...you suffered four broken ribs,

fractured your left arm...

...and severed an artery in your right,

which should've killed you in minutes.

But amazingly...

...a shard of metal from your watch

obstructed the artery...

...keeping the blood loss

low enough to keep you alive...

...which is pretty cool.

Yeah.

So with some physical therapy...

...a few months of rest,

you should be fine.

Well, sort of. We weren't able

to remove the shard of watch...

...from your arm without risking

severe arterial damage.

You'll be okay.

You'll just have a piece of watch...

...embedded in your arm

the rest of your life.

You're very lucky to be alive,

Mr. Crick.

Yeah.

- Dr. Mercator, Mr. Crick has a visitor.

- Sure.

- My God, Harold.

- Hey.

- I'm okay. It's all right.

- Harold.

I'm fine.

Harold, you're not fine.

Look at you. You're severely injured.

- No, I'm fine.

- What--? What happened?

I stepped in front of a bus.

What? Why?

There was a boy.

I had to push him out of the way.

What?

I had to keep this boy from getting hit.

You stepped in front of a bus

to save a little boy?

I didn't have a choice.

I had to.

It's... . It's okay.

- It's not great.

- No.

It's okay. It's not bad.

It's not the most amazing piece

of English literature in several years...

...but it's okay.

You know...

...I think I'm fine with "okay."

It doesn't make sense

with the rest of the book though.

No, not yet. I'll rewrite the rest.

My assistant said

she'd go back to the publisher...

...and request more time.

- Why?

Don't know. It's awfully sweet though.

No, why did you change the book?

Lots of reasons.

I realized I just couldn't do it.

Because he's real?

Because it's a book about a man...

...who doesn't know he's about to die

and then dies.

But if the man does know

he's going to die and dies anyway...

...dies willingly,

knowing he could stop it, then... .

I mean, isn't that the type of man

you want to keep alive?

As Harold took a bite

of Bavarian sugar cookie...

... he finally felt as if everything

was going to be okay.

Sometimes, when we lose ourselves

in fear and despair...

... in routine and constancy...

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