The Girl on the Train Page #3

Yeah, I bet you have.

Nothing like stories

from cab driver.

One guy tries to strangle hooker in

backseat. I say, "Not in my cab."

He say,

"I give you big tip."

So what'd you do?

I throw him out. He strangle

on street, his business.

Not in my cab.

People f***ing, okay.

A big tip covers it.

Killing?

Yeah, I get it.

Not in your cab.

You can bet you.

That's him.

Want to hear

strangest story ever?

Does it involve dwarves?

Dwarves? What?

Somehow they always seem to involve

dwarves, and they're never true.

This happened 100%.

My brother, he's f***ing

this girl two years.

Met in spinning class. You know,

bicycle doesn't go nowhere?

Only women in these classes.

My brother joins for women.

So he's f***ing this girl. One night

she asks, can her friend join in.

My brother is like

winning lottery.

Of course.

More is merrier.

Let me guess.

The friend is a man.

Man? You crazy? Is more beautiful

than one my brother is f***ing.

Big tits, everything.

So they have wild night.

Everything is on menu,

soup till nuts.

My brother thinks he died

straight to heaven.

In the morning, I get call.

He wakes up, everything's gone...

Girls, wallet, flat-screen.

He calls police,

but nothing to do.

Her cell doesn't work no more. She's gone

from spinning class like she never exists.

Let me

get this straight.

She's with him for two years

so she can steal his TV?

His whole house. Lucky she

left him his underwears.

I tell you

it was crazy story.

He never found her?

Every day he sees her.

On subway,

walking down street.

But never her. One woman

he followed for half an hour.

She called police.

My brother is never same.

Stopped spinning classes even.

So she had you

playing detective?

It wasn't until the next time

I saw her that she asked me.

The time in the camps...

stands outside normal time.

The time in the camps...

The time in the camps...

stands outside normal time.

Hello?

Can you meet me?

Where I grew up everything

was flat, even the cities.

This seems more honest.

Eye to eye with everyone, you can convince

yourself we're not that different.

Step over a homeless guy

to get to your penthouse,

you know better.

Grow up poor?

Shows?

My mother was always getting

mixed up with the wrong guy.

Father got out

before I was born.

Can't say I blame him.

You ever try

and find him?

I heard he had

an uncle in the east.

That's why I came

out here originally.

He wasn't much use though.

You still close

to your mother?

I grew up using her

as a model of who not to be.

When I was about seven, she finally

seemed to get her life on track.

Stopped drinking,

met a guy from a wealthy family.

She always wanted me

to be provided for,

so he agreed to put

something aside for me.

It was good for a while.

For a while.

He never laid a hand on me,

but I decided then and there

I would never be a victim.

It's important to keep

promises to yourself.

Isn't it?

This the photo

she showed you?

I knew I was gonna do

what it took to help her.

At first it's, "You know you

like it rough, don't you, babe?"

Makes you feel like you're

always the one at fault.

If I hadn't done this,

hadn't said that.

You look in the mirror

one morning and realize...

it's not only your

mother's eyes you've got,

it's the bruises

around them.

Is that why

you called me?

I called you...

to get drunk.

That when she told you

she was married?

Not in so many words.

More the way she didn't say

what she didn't say?

So who was she?

The one who

got to you.

What makes you think

there was only one?

Devil takes many forms,

but there's really only one.

You should've been

a priest.

Not an option

for a woman.

I'd make a terrible nun.

There's always one

who sets the standard.

For most guys, it's the girl in

college who barely knew they existed.

There were a couple

of those, I guess.

It's just as well.

If you'd gathered

the courage to talk to her,

you would've noticed

her teeth aren't perfect.

Her eyes

are slightly askew.

You ever notice how

it's always those quirks...

we find the most charming in the beginning

become the most irritating over time?

What about you?

I'm more comfortable

on this side.

As long as there's

no tape in it.

It's digital.

No tape.

It was high school,

backseat of his car.

I wish I could be

more original.

He plays it cool,

a little smile on his face.

But in that smile is a world

of expectation and sadness.

The flower is beautiful,

but it dies.

The girl is fertile,

but she will age.

They won't find each other in an old age

home at the sunny edge of the world.

Won't wind up in L.A.

This is their moment,

and they better take it.

If there's anything

you need to tell me...

about your relationship

with this young woman,

now would be the time.

I needed to know

if it was possible to know...

I needed to know if it was

possible to know someone...

- I love you.

- Really know someone.

I always have.

I wanted to know

what was real...

Our souls were born together

at the beginning of time.

And what was just some kind

of image of her in my head.

I love you. I love you.

I always have.

Our souls were born together

at the beginning of time.

I love you.

I always have.

I always have. Our souls were born

together at the beginning of time.

Our souls were born together

at the beginning of time.

I love you.

I love you.

Our souls were born together

at the beginning of time.

It wasn't in college.

We met at the museum.

Impressionists?

How'd you know?

You always find the best women

in the impressionist wing.

We went out

a couple of times.

She invites me

back to her place,

and we're sitting

on the couch.

When she gets up

to throw a log in the fire,

I notice a slight

stiffness in her step.

Somehow that tiny

sign of age...

made her real for me.

She was perfected

by her imperfections.

And in that moment,

I can see the future.

We will move together

into the bright haze,

fighting age and decay,

losing gloriously.

I will come to love her cancer

scars, her arthritic knee.

And I know that sex and love

are just animal things,

the genes liking

what's good for them.

But maybe there's

another possibility.

If love is more

than the sum of its parts,

maybe we are more

than the sum of our parts.

But there's

another future.

She will leave me,

or I'll leave her.

I'll feel the pain

but only for a while.

And I know that if I ran

into her a year later,

she won't be someone that I could

imagine falling in love with.

In fact, I'll question

that I ever did at all.

So which future did you choose?

Sometimes the scorpion

stings you,

even if it means

he'll drown too.

When I was little, my mother

told me about the saints.

Saint Jude

was always my favorite.

Patron saint of lost causes.

Why did you

really call me?

I agreed to help her out

with Pruitt,

but there was a condition.

She still hadn't told me why she was

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