The Curious Case of Benjamin Button Page #6

Younger than the springtime.

I think that preacher laid the hands

on you gave you a second life.

I knew it the moment

I saw you, you were special.

I tell you what, my knees are

sore cause I've been on them

every night asking the Lord,

I say God, bring him home safely.

Remember what I told you?

You never know what's comin'

for you? -That's right. Sit down.

Did you learn anything

worth repeating?

-I sure saw some things.

-Oh, you've seen some pain.

Some joy too? -Sure, sure I did.

-Yeah, that's what I wanna hear.

Look at you...

-Where's Tizzy?

Oh, baby!

Mr Weathers died in his sleep

one night last april.

Mama, I'm so sorry. -Don't you

worry about that, baby.

Well, there's only one or

two of them left now.

They're all just about new.

I guess they're waitin' their

turn like everybody else.

I'm so glad you're

back home with me.

Now we're going to find you

a wife and a new job.

Come and help me

with this table.

Benjamin! You're wasting

your time, baby.

She's stone deaf.

You'll be staying in what was

Mrs DeSeroux's old room.

You're too big to be rooming

with anybody else.

It's a funny thing

about coming home.

Looks the same. Smells

the same. Feels the same.

Did I ever tell you I've been

struck by lightning 7 times?

Once when I was sitting in my

truck, minding my own business.

You realise

what's changed, is you.

And late one morning,

not long after I'd been back...

Excuse me, is Queenie here?

Daisy?

It's me, Benjamin.

-Benjamin?

Oh my God!

Of course it's you! Benjamin!

How are you?

It's been such a long time!

There's so much I wanna know!

When did you get back?

-I got back few weeks ago.

I spoke to Queenie, she said

you were in the war,

somewhere at sea, we were so

worried about you. -I'm okay.

Well, look at you.

You are so lovely.

You stopped writing.

When I had left she was a girl.

And a woman had taken her place.

She was the most beautiful

woman I've ever seen.

Beautiful.

The most beautiful.

You remember grandma Fuller?

-Sure I do. -She passed.

I heard that, I'm sorry.

I just can't believe

we're both here.

Must be fate... no, no,

what did he call it? Kismet.

Do you know about Edgar Cayce,

the psychic? -I don't believe I...

He says that everything

is predetermined, but...

I like to think

that it is fate.

I'm not sure how it works,

but I'm glad it happened.

Have you been to Manhattan?

It's right across the river from me.

I can see the Empire State

Building if I stand on my bed.

What about you, where've

you been? Tell me everything.

Last time you wrote, you said

you've been to Russia.

I always wanted to go to Russia.

Is it as cold as they say?

-Twice as cold.

-My goodness!

We always said you were different.

I think you really are.

You wrote that you met

somebody. Did it work out?

It ran its course.

Hey, do you remember this?

This is the picture of Old Man

Kangaroo at 5 in the afternoon.

Would you like to have dinner?

Did I tell you that I danced

for Ballenchine?

He's a famous choreographer.

He said that I had perfect line.

In a rehearsal once,

a dancer fell.

And he just put it

right into the production.

Can you imagine that

in a classical ballet?

A dancer intentionally falling?

There's a whole new word for

dance now, it's called abstract.

He's not the only one though,

there's Lincoln Kirstein,

and Lucia Chase

and Agnes DeMille...

she has just torn up

all those conventions,

all that straight up

and down stuff...

And she told me about

this big new world.

Names that didn't

mean a thing to me.

I didn't really hear very much

of what she was saying.

It's new and modern

and it's American.

They understand our vigor

and our physicality.

Oh my God, I've just been

talking and talking.

No, no, I've enjoyed listening.

I didn't know you smoked.

-I'm old enough.

I'm old enough

for a lot of things.

In New York we stay up all night.

Watch the sun come up

over the warehouses.

There's always something to do.

I have to go back tomorrow.

-So soon?

-Wish I could stay.

Dancers don't need costumes

or scenery anymore.

I can imagine dancing

completely naked.

Have you read D.H. Lawrence?

His books were banned.

The words are like making love.

In our company,

we have to trust each other.

Sex is a part of it.

I know a lot of the dancers

are lesbians.

There was one woman who

wanted to sleep with me.

Was that upseting you?

-Which part?

Somebody wanted to sleep with me?

-You're a desirable woman,

I would think most of them

would wanna sleep with you.

Let's go back to the house.

Or we can get a room somewhere.

We can lay down your jacket.

-I don't know, Daisy...

It's not that I wouldn't like to.

I think I'd just disappoint you.

Benjamin, I've been

with older men.

You go back to New York

in the morning,

you should be with your friends.

You're only young once.

-Oh, I'm old enough.

Daisy, just not tonight, is all.

We can go hear some music.

Our lives are defined

by opportunities.

Even the ones we miss.

You look so handsome,

so distinct.

They're sayin' the hurricane is

gonna miss us. Blow right on by.

-Oh, that's great.

-I'll stay under the blankets...

with mother.

She said nothing...

Benjamin?

Things were becoming

different for me.

My hair had very little gray

and grew like weeds.

My sense of smell was keener,

my hearing more acute.

I could walk further and faster.

While everybody else was aging,

I was getting younger. All alone.

Come in.

Benjamin!

Do you remember me?

-Sure I do, Mr Button.

What happened to you?

-Darn foot got infected.

Welcome home, my friend.

I see you're still drinking

your Sazerac with whiskey.

I'm a creature of habit.

Still visiting the house

on Bourbon Street?

Not for a long time.

Interesting times, though.

We went from making 40 thousand

to nearly a million buttons a day.

We employed ten times

the number of people.

We were operating

around the clock.

Damn shame.

The war has been kind

to the button industry.

You know...

I'm sick. I don't know

how much longer I have.

I'm sorry to hear that,

Mr Button. -No...

I don't have any people.

I keep to myself.

I hope you don't mind, but...

whenever possible,

I'd enjoy your company.

I'll certainly do what I can.

Benjamin, do you know

anything about buttons?

Button's Buttons has been

in our family for 124 years.

My grandfather was a tailor.

He had a small shop in Richmond.

After the Civil War,

He moved to New Orleans

where my father had the wisdom

to make our own buttons.

So, with his help,

the tailor shop grew to this.

And today, I can't sew a stitch.

That's very, very interesting.

You sure have done

well for yourself.

So... what can I do

for you, Mr Button?

Benjamin, you are my son.

I'm so sorry I've never

told you before.

You were born the night

the Great war ended.

Your mother died

giving birth to you.

I thought you were a monster.

I promised your mother

I'd make sure you were safe.

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