The Best Years of Our Lives Page #11

but plain old-fashioned Americanism.

Some Americanism!

So we're all a bunch of suckers?

So we should've been on the side

of the Japs and the Nazis?

Again I say, just look at the facts.

I've seen facts. I've seen a ship go down,

and 400 of my shipmates went with it.

Were those guys suckers?!

That's the unpleasant truth,

and the sooner we get wise to it...

- Ooh, if I only had my hands!

- You put those down!

Take your hands off him!

(Merkel) May I get through, please?

- Go get the druggist.

- Yes, sir.

Make way, please.

What happened?

- It was Fred Derry. He hit him.

- Bring some iodine and bandages.

- Yes, sir.

- Don't say it, chum.

The customer's always right, so I'm fired.

But this customer wasn't right.

I'll meet you outside in a minute, kid.

Gee, Fred, I'm sorry I lost you your job.

But that guy...

Yeah, I know. You read about guys like

that, but you don't often see 'em, luckily.

How about your girlfriend - Wilma?

- You and she gonna get married?

- I don't know.

Why don't you know?

Doesn't she want to get married?

It isn't Wilma's fault.

She's been swell about it.

- So then it's your fault?

- Yeah, I... I guess it is.

- Will you do me a favour, Homer?

- Sure, Fred. What is it?

I'm a hot one to be giving advice

to the lovelorn, but go see Wilma - now.

Take her in your arms, kiss her,

ask her to marry you, then marry her.

Tomorrow, if you can get a licence.

If you want anybody to stand up for you at

your wedding... There's my bus. So long.

So long, Fred.

- You all right?

- I'm just going to get a glass of milk.

Just knock on the door

when you want me.

OK.

Wilma! What are you doing out this hour?

I saw you were up, Homer.

I saw you through the window.

I've got to talk to you.

All right, come in.

- Want some chicken?

- No, thanks.

- Sure?

- Yes.

- Want a glass of milk?

- No, thanks, Homer.

Sit down, Wilma.

Homer, I... My family want me

to go away, tomorrow.

- Where?

- Up to Silver Lake. My Aunt Vera's place.

That ought to be nice.

But I don't want to go.

I want to stay here.

You see, the reason they want me to go

is so that I'll forget about you.

They figure you don't want me around,

you don't want to see me,

and if I go away for a while,

maybe I'll get all this out of my mind.

Maybe that's a good idea, Wilma.

Maybe you ought to do that.

Do you want to get rid of me?

Tell me the truth, Homer.

Do you want me to forget about you?

I want you to be free, Wilma.

To live your own life.

I don't want you tied down forever

just because you've got a kind heart.

Homer, why can't you understand the way

things really are? The way I really feel?

I keep trying to tell you.

But... but you don't know, Wilma.

You don't know what it'd be like

to have to live with me,

to have to... face this

every day, every night.

But I can only find out by trying.

If it turns out I haven't courage enough,

we'll soon know it.

Wilma, you and I have been close

to each other for a long time, haven't we?

Ever since we were kids.

Yes, Homer.

I'm going upstairs to bed.

I want you to... I want you to come up

and see for yourself what happens.

All right, Homer.

I've learned how to take this harness off.

I can wiggle into my pyjama top.

I'm lucky, I have my elbows.

Some of the boys don't.

- But I can't button 'em up.

- I'll do that, Homer.

This is when I know I'm helpless.

My hands are down there on the bed.

I can't put them on again

without calling to somebody for help.

I can't smoke a cigarette or read a book.

If that door should blow shut,

I can't open it and get out of this room.

As dependent as a baby that doesn't know

how to get anything except cry for it.

Well, now you know, Wilma.

Now you have an idea of what it is.

I guess you don't know what to say.

It's all right. Go on home.

Go away, like your family said.

I know what to say, Homer.

I love you.

And I'm never going to leave you.

Never.

You mean, you... you didn't mind?

Of course not.

I told you I loved you.

I love you, Wilma.

I always have, and... and I always will.

Good night, darling. Sleep well.

Good night, Wilma.

Hey, sugar. You'd better step on it,

or your husband'll be home.

He's job-hunting.

He won't come home for another hour.

- And what if he does?

- I don't understand it.

All this money around and he can't

get into it. What's wrong with him?

- I guess he just isn't very bright.

- (key in door)

How do you do?

Fine, thanks. Who are you?

Fred, I want you to meet Cliff Scully,

an old friend of mine.

- Hiya, Freddy.

- Glad to know you, Scully. Get out.

- A tough guy, huh?

- Now listen, Fred.

You won't get anywhere with

that attitude. Cliff's an old friend.

He's asked me out, and I'm going out.

- You heard me, chum. Get out.

- What do I do next? Smack him?

Why ask her?

Can't you think for yourself?

Go on. I can handle this.

Wait for me downstairs.

OK.

Another ex-serviceman, huh?

Greetings. Have you had

any trouble getting readjusted?

Not in particular. It's easy if you

just take everything in your stride.

That's what I've heard.

- Be seeing you.

- I doubt it.

- When did you pick him up?

- He's an old friend.

He just dropped in for a friendly drink.

- Did you know him while I was away?

- I knew lots of people.

- What do you think I did all those years?

- I don't know, but I can guess.

Go ahead, guess.

I could do some guessing myself.

What were you up to in London

and Paris and all those places?

I've given you every chance to make

something of yourself. I gave up my job.

I gave up the best years of my life!

And what have you done? You've flopped.

Couldn't even hold a job at the drugstore.

So I'm going back to work for myself.

And I'm going to live for myself, too.

And in case you don't understand English,

I'm gonna get a divorce.

What have you got to say to that?

Don't keep Cliff waiting.

- What are you gonna do?

- I'm going away.

- Where?

- As far away from Boone City as I can get.

That's a good idea.

You'll get a good job someplace else.

There are drugstores everywhere.

Here's an old sweater

I found. Remember?

- Sure.

- You might need it sometime.

- Thanks, Hortense.

- You forgot these, son.

- Oh, I don't want 'em, Pop.

- What are they?

Fancy words that don't mean anything.

You can throw 'em away.

Say, these are citations for your medals.

Why, Freddy,

you never showed them to us.

Those things came in

the packages with K rations.

Well, we'll treasure them, my boy.

I'll get the socks I washed for you.

Think you're doing the right thing, son?

Going? Who's to say in advance whether

it's the right thing or the wrong thing?

It just means a fresh start

in some other place.

How do you know

it'll be different anyplace else?

There's a need here for fellas like yourself

that fought and won the war.

I know you haven't had the best of breaks

since you got back, but...

you ought to stick here and slug it out

a while longer on your own home ground.

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