The Curious Case of Benjamin Button Page #4

many years ago.

I'm so so sorry.

She died in childbirth.

To children.

-To mothers.

What line of work are you in,

Mr Button? -Buttons.

Button's Buttons. There isn't

a button we don't make.

Our biggest competition is B.F.

Goodrich and his infernal zippers.

Would you gentlemen

like anything else?

One for the road, Benjamin?

Only if you let me

pay for it, Mr Button.

So, what line of

work do you do?

I'm a tugboat man.

I enjoyed talking to you.

-I enjoyed drinking with you.

Benjamin...

would you mind if, time to time,

I stop by and say hello?

Anytime.

Good night, Mr Button.

Good night, Benjamin.

Drive off.

Where have you been?

Nothing. I met some people

and listened to music...

Oh, sweet Jesus, boy!

Growing up is a funny thing.

Sneaks up on you.

One person is there

and then suddenly

somebody else is

taking their place.

She wasn't all elbows

and knees anymore.

-Benjamin! Come on.

-Okay.

I loved those weekends

when she'd come

and spend the night

with her grandmother.

Daisy! Daisy!

You wanna see something?

You gotta keep it a secret.

Get dressed.

I'll meet you out back.

Come on!

Can you swim?

-I can do anything you can do.

Put this on. We gotta hurry.

Is he okay? -Captain!

Captain Mike!

Morning, captain.

Can you take us out?

Do you know what day it is?

-Sunday.

You know what that means?

It means that I was

very drunk last night.

You're drunk every night.

Is that a girl? -A close friend.

I want to show her the river.

I'm not supposed to go

joy-ridin' with civilians.

I could lose my licence.

What are you waiting for?

She put in for repair.

A wounded duck.

She's flyin' now!

I wish we could go with them.

Did you say something, mom?

It's getting really bad.

Can you hear me, mom?

Time just seeped out of me.

Things were changing quickly.

I don't know how it's possible,

but you seem to have more hair.

What if I told you that

I wasn't getting older,

but I was getting younger

than everybody else.

Well, I'd feel sorry for you.

To have to see everybody

you love die before you do.

It's an awful responsibility.

I've never thought about life

or death that way before.

Benjamin, we're meant to

lose the people we love.

How else would we know

how important they are to us.

And one fall day, a familiar

visitor came knocking on our door.

You wanna go with me

to the drugstore?

She taught me how to

play the piano. -Amen!

And she taught me what

it meant to miss somebody.

Let's go.

I had gone to a brothel,

I had my first drink,

Said goodbye to one friend

and burried another.

In 1936, when I was coming to the

end of the 17th year of my life,

I packed my bag

and said goodbye.

I knew, life being what it was,

I'd probably never

see them again.

Good luck to you, son.

-Thanks.

-I love you, mom.

-I love you too, baby.

I want you to say your

prayers every night, hear?

Be safe!

Benjamin!

Where are you going?

-Off to sea.

I'll send you a postcard.

From everywhere.

Write me a postcard

from everywhere.

Can you imagine?

He sent me a postcard

from everywhere he went.

Every place he worked.

Newfoundland, Baffin Bay,

Glasgow, Liverpool, Narvik...

He had gone with

that captain Mike.

Captain Mike had contracted for

three years with Moran Brothers

Tug and Salvage. The old

ship had been refitted

with a diesel engine

and a new sea winch.

We went around Florida

and up the Atlantic seaboard.

We were a crew of seven now.

Captain Mike and me,

the cookie, Prentiss Mayes

from Wilmington, Delaware.

The Brody twins, Rick and Vic

who got along fine at sea,

but for some reason,

once they were on dry land,

couldn't stand the sight

of each other. -Enough!

One in every eight

boats never returns...

There was John Grimm,

who sure fit his name.

...all hands lost at sea.

From Belvedere,

South Dakota.

And Pleasant Curtis

from Nashville,

who never said a word

to anyone, except himself.

I wrote him constantly.

I told him I had been invited

to audition in New York City,

for the School of American Ballet.

Please stay. Thank you.

Thank you.

You can stay.

I was relegated to the "corps".

Another dancing gypsy.

Benjamin, how is it

when you showed up,

you were no bigger than a bollard

with one foot in the grave.

Now... either I drink a helluva

lot more than I think I do,

or you sprouted!

What's your secret?

Well, Captain...

you do drink a lot.

We stayed in a small hotel with the

grand name, "The Winter Palace."

You have no idea what

you're talking about.

The hummingbird is

not just another bird.

Its heart rate is

Its wings beat

If you was to stop

their wings from beatin,

they would be dead in

less that ten seconds.

This is no ordinary bird,

this is a frikkin' miracle!

They slowed down their wings

with moving pictures,

and you know what they saw?

Their wingtips are doing...

You know what the figure "8"

is the mathematical symbol for?

Infinity!

Everybody, no matter

what differences they had,

languages, the color of their skin,

had one thing in common:

They were drunk

every single night.

Could you hold the lift, please?

-Thank you very much.

Her name was Elizabeth Abbott.

She was not beautiful.

She was plain as paper.

But she was pretty

as any picture to me.

What are you looking at?

If you must know, we have

a long standing agreement

never to go to bed sober.

Isn't that right, honey?

-Whatever you say, darling.

-Her husband was Walter Abbott.

He was Chief Minister of the

British Trade Mission in Murmansk.

And he was a spy.

Are you okay, darling?

-Oh yes.

I broke my heel off

one of my shoes.

I'm not in a habit of walking

about in my stocking feet.

They were long days there.

And even longer nights.

One particular night, I was

having trouble sleeping.

I'm sorry.

I couldn't sleep.

I was gonna make some tea.

Would you like some?

No, thank you.

-Milk? Honey?

-A bit of honey, please.

I hope you like flies in your

honey. -Oh, perhaps not.

Maybe... better to

let it steep a little.

Steep? -Soak.

I don't know, I mean... there's

a proper way of making tea.

Where I'm from,

people just want it to be hot.

Well, quite right.

You're a seaman?

-Sailor.

I hope I'm not being impolite,

but I have to ask:

Aren't you a little old

to be working on a boat?

There's no age limit,

as long as you can do the work.

And you have trouble

sleeping? Thank you.

I didn't think I did.

I usually sleep like a baby.

Something kept me up.

My father, in his eighties,

he was so convinced

he's gonna die in his sleep,

he limited himself to

having afternoon naps.

He was so determined

he was gonna cheat death.

Did he? -Did he what?

-Die in his sleep?

He died sitting in

his favorite chair,

listening to his favorite

program on the wireless.

He must have known something.

My husband is

British Trade Minister,

and we've been here

for fourteen months.

-Good God! -We were

supposed to go to Peking.

But it never seemed to work out.

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