The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them Page #2

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one and one and one and the other

until the plate was completely empty.

You went to nursery school that fall,

and all these women

gave me those weird looks and...

they were wondering

what I was feeding you with.

Well, I was a butterball.

I felt completely stupid.

Like I had no idea what I was doing,

the way those women looked at me.

Did you?

Did I what?

Did you know what you were doing?

I think I didn't realize

I wouldn't be able to retrieve

all the opportunities I threw away then.

You're not the only one who's

done stupid things to herself.

My darling.

I have no clue where she's going.

She turns off her cell phone,

and like that, she's vanished.

And... does that make sense to you?

- No comment.

- Come on, knock it off.

No, no, you know, whatever...

what do you call it, I plead the Fifth.

Like, I tried to be helpful,

I pretended,

but it didn't work out,

so I'm not gonna do that.

All right, look, I realize that

I've been a little off balance lately,

but I think with hindsight,

I'm learning to deal with it better.

A couple of weeks counts as hindsight?

F***in' A, Stu.

I got nothing for you.

Come on, come on. Look,

I'm just asking you a simple question.

You don't have to candy-coat it

like you're gonna hurt my feelings,

but... did you see this coming?

Look, with the exception of my dog,

I haven't slept next to the same person

for more than two or three days in a

row, so I don't know what I'm gonna say

that's gonna be relevant

to your situation.

I opened a restaurant for you, a**hole.

No, you opened a restaurant

for you, a**hole.

And according to the Village Voice,

it's "a bar with uninspired food."

Whatever. Look, I'm simply asking

for my best friend's opinion,

even it is an uninformed piece of crap.

OK. "We are young.

Heartache to heartache, we stand.

No promises, no demands.

Love is a battlefield."

Pat Benatar.

You're a f***ing idiot.

Look, I feel like I walk on eggshells

around you.

You know, uh, I tried to talk to you

about this for months...

- I'm not talking about that.

- This is what I'm talking about, man.

I don't know how to be

your friend anymore.

You know, you're no f***ing picnic.

Look, I saw her the other day.

- You what?

- I saw her.

- Where?

- Astor Place.

- Did you talk to her?

- No.

- You didn't talk to her?

- No. No. She was, uh, far away.

She was walking away.

She was going to class or something.

Class?

Yeah. She had her book bags

with her or something.

- She was going to class.

- What school?

- Like NYU or Cooper Union or...

- I don't know!

- The New School?

- I don't know.

- It's not hard to find out.

- Why didn't you tell me?

I just did.

What are you guys talking about?

- You.

- Oh.

Hey.

- OK?

- Um...

I'm not here to approve or disapprove,

just so you know.

Hmm?

Your mother always gave me crap

for never stepping up to the plate.

Uh...

OK. What?

She said I never stepped up.

Uh, I'm sorry, what does that

have to do with anything?

Well... you're a bit like me.

No, I'm f***in' not.

I stepped up.

OK.

So what else?

Nothing.

Nothing. We don't have to keep talking.

Yeah, but you're the one

who came into the room.

- Yeah, to turn down your stupid music.

- Oh.

Every day I do one thing

that makes me happy.

All right, one thing.

And that is I listen to my stupid music

while reading the stupid paper.

And that's the best way

I've found to deal with myself.

So just go back to the guest room

and count the f***in' raindrops.

"Count the f***in' raindrops"?

I was never very good

at this kind of thing.

OK.

It isn't your job to investigate

the expansive memory

that's called "the past"

and judge what is right and what isn't.

Seriously, what the f***

are you talking about?

You shouldn't be interested

in regretting things.

I'm not.

Let's do this.

...intuitive answer

to this question.

At the bottom,

the sense of self corresponds

to that experience of ownership

and impenetrability of one's thoughts,

of one's internal dialogues,

of one's affective states

that many, but not all,

- of us have from infancy.

- Hey.

Can I borrow a piece

of paper and a pen?

- ...solitude is held as constituting...

- Please.

...our sense of personal uniqueness...

Thanks. And... the pen?

- And it's perhaps that very same...

- I'll give it back.

...solitude that Descartes had in mind

when he redefined

the concepts of subject

and subjectivity.

You know, ultimately,

being oneself means

that the faculty of knowing...

...the faculty of knowing lies

within the subject in his head

and the subject has such a status

by dint of being enclosed

within himself,

- separate and...

- Hi again.

Would you mind passing this

to the girl with the red hair?

Come on, please?

...we say, "What's got into you?"

to express surprise.

Thanks a lot.

Don't forgot your pen.

...disapproval of

unexpected and bizarre behavior.

And again...

- doesn't common sense tell us that...

- Red hair. Thank you.

...strange behavior is signaled

by tapping one's forehead

with one's forefinger.

Boy, I'm learning something.

"Why the Mind Is in the Head" is the

title of one of the lectures delivered

- at the 1951 symposium.

- Hey.

One of the most authoritative voices

in this chorus is Ken Bergens,

who asked the question:

Can we compellingly reinscribe

what it is to be a person...

...in the way that moves us away

from the individualist premise

and toward the relational...

Hey!

- Hey, Rigby.

- What the f*** are you doing?

What? Come on, I barely got a chance

to respond before you went AWOL.

- What did I ask you, Conor?

- Just give me a second to talk.

- What the f*** did I ask you!

- Just give a goddamn second...

I gave you plenty of seconds!

Do me a favor, leave me the f*** alone!

Fine.

Fine, you do what you got to do.

You just keep f***in' walking...

Conor?

Oh, sh*t! Conor?

You know this guy?

He's my husband.

Well, that was exciting.

Yeah, it was awesome.

So, you're...

...you're back in school?

I'm taking some classes.

I almost didn't recognize you.

What do you mean?

It's just your hair.

It's really pretty.

Where are you living, El?

None of your business.

Is that what you so desperately

needed to talk to me about?

No.

What is it, then?

I was gonna say something good,

something that would have

solved all our problems

and made everything all better,

but you know what,

I forgot what it was.

- That's too bad.

- Isn't it?

I'm gonna go.

No.

All I want...

...is a chance to just talk it out.

Then after that,

after that you can disappear,

- to wherever it is you disappear to.

- You ready, sir?

Yeah... yeah, I was born ready.

Nice and easy. Watch your step.

I'll see you around.

All right, watch your head coming up.

- You got him?

- I got him.

Now, take it easy.

- Strap in for me.

- OK.

May I keep stalking you?

- Are you awake?

- Mm.

- Auntie Em, are you awake?

- No, Philip.

Your eyes are open.

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