The Killing of a Sacred Deer Page #7

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To be honest, she's got

feelings for him, too.

She thinks he's very nice hands.

Truth is, he has

beautiful hands.

All doctors have clean,

nice, beautiful hands.

So I told her, I said,

I've no problem with it

if you wanna go ahead.

I mean, he seems like a

nice guy, very nice guy.

And I don't wanna

get in the way of

her trying to get her

life back on track.

I'll be gone, I'll be gone in

a few years, I'll get a job.

If my husband made a mistake,

if out of negligence or,

I don't know what,

he caused this tragic

thing to happen,

I don't understand why I

should have to pay the price.

Why my children should

have to pay the price.

You know, not long after

my dad died, someone told me

that I eat spaghetti the

exact same way he did.

They said what an

extraordinary impression

this fact had made on them.

Look at the boy, look

how he eats spaghetti.

Exactly the same

way his father did.

He sticks his fork in.

He twirls it around, around,

around, around, around.

Then he sticks it in his mouth.

At that time, I thought

I was the only one

who ate spaghetti that way.

Me and my dad.

Later, of course, I found out

that everyone eats spaghetti

the exact same way.

Exact same way, exact same way.

This made me very upset.

Very upset.

Maybe even, um, more upset

than when they told

me he was dead.

My dad.

I don't know if what is

happening is fair, but

it's the only thing

I can think of

that's close to justice.

Time's getting on, and if I'm

late for class I'm done for.

(laughing)

Have a good day.

(ominous music)

[Ed] So I don't see any

reason for the children

to stay in the hospital.

[Steven] You mean

you think you've done

everything you can?

[Ed] Yes, Steven, I believe

we've done everything we can.

I'm sorry, but if I was

running this hospital,

I'd feel like a complete

failure, a loser.

I wouldn't be able

to sleep at night.

Goodnight, Anna.

Goodnight, Ed.

I suggest we sign the

release forms tomorrow

and they can go home.

(ominous music)

(horn blaring)

(sirens wailing)

Were you the anesthesiologist

for Jonathan Lang?

Thank you.

- Do you want...

- No, thank you.

Who's Jonathan Lang?

[Anna] Male, 46 years old.

Patient of Steven's, died

on the operating table.

[Martin] Anna, there

have been so many patients

over the years, so

many operations.

I don't remember him,

unfortunately, I'm sorry.

Can you find me his

file in the records

and show it to me, please?

I wanna see his medical

history and the cause of death.

[Martin] I don't think that's

possible, I'm sorry, Anna.

I can't just share

files from the hospital.

Why do you need it?

Please.

Look, I can't

give you the file

but I can tell you a couple

of things about the case.

I remember him now,

I put him under.

But

what do I get in return?

What you didn't get

that day we came for lunch

at your house.

When?

Now.

Had Steven been drinking?

[Martin] Yes.

[Anna] Can it be

considered his mistake?

Yes.

It wasn't mine, that's for sure.

You know an anesthesiologist

is never to blame

for the bad outcome

of an operation.

The surgeon is

always responsible.

He'd had two drinks that morning

before we went in to prepare.

Luckily, no one else realized,

I was the only one that knew.

But, back then, that

wasn't exactly unusual.

You know that.

(Mathew breathing heavily)

(belt buckle jingling)

(Matthew exhaling and panting)

Thank you.

This meat is delicious.

You were right, after all.

The children are

much better off here.

I was even thinking

we might take them

to the beach house

for a few days.

A little fresh air and

a change of scenery

might do us all good.

Do you know what

I've been craving?

Mashed potato.

Why don't you make

some tomorrow?

You have beautiful hands.

I never noticed before.

Everyone's been

telling me lately

what beautiful hands you have

and now I can see for myself.

Nice and clean.

But so what if

they're beautiful?

They're lifeless.

Sometimes, Steven, you're

just an incompetent man

who goes on and on,

saying stupid things

like, "Let's do a scan.

"Let's do an ultrasound,

let's wear brown socks.

"Let's make mashed potatoes,

let's go to the beach house."

Excuse me?

Our two children are dying

in the other room, but, yes,

I can make you mashed

potatoes tomorrow.

Please don't talk

to me that way.

If you don't like

it, why don't you go

and live with Martin's mother?

I bet she'll talk to you better.

[Steven] You wanted

the kids to come home,

and they came home.

What else do you want me to do?

Something to put an

end to all of this,

that's what I want;

can you do that?

You do realize, Steven,

we're in this situation

because of you?

So what do you suggest?

Tell me.

No, wait, I know, I've got it.

There is a way we can

put a stop to all this.

All we need to do is find the

tooth of a baby crocodile,

the blood of a pigeon and

the pubes of a virgin.

And then we just have to

burn them all before sunset.

Let me see, do we have any

spare teeth lying around?

Teeth, pubes?

Nope, nothin' here.

(clattering)

There's nothing in here either.

Let me see, nothing here.

Pubes, teeth?

Nothing in this box either.

Where are they?

I'm sure they were here

earlier, I put them here myself.

Who's been moving things around?

It's unbelievable.

I don't suppose you've

got any pubes I can have,

by any chance?

Oh, I forgot, you

don't have any left.

We don't have any of

the things we need.

There's no need for us to argue.

Everything's so

difficult already.

There's no point

making it worse.

If he was telling the truth,

wouldn't you be sick too?

Wouldn't you be

paralyzed already?

How do you explain that?

Yes, you're right.

Let's wait a little longer

until we're all dead

and then see what

you can do about it.

There's really nothing

to worry about.

You need to go to

the hospital tomorrow

and pick up more feeding

formula for the children.

We're almost out.

[Steven] Okay.

(ominous tones)

(ominous music)

(door latch clicks)

(ominous music)

Good morning.

Good morning.

[Steven] Did

you get any sleep?

What time is it?

Ten past eight.

Get up and come with

me for a moment.

You remember Martin, don't you?

He came by for a play-date.

I told him the kids were

feeling a little unwell

and he'll have to stay

here until they get better.

Anna, go upstairs and make

him some of that lemonade

he likes so much, would you?

I'll stay here and

keep him company.

Please.

[Martin] Let me go.

My mother's gonna

be worried sick.

Do you think your mother's

proud of you, Martin?

Do you think she's happy that

her beloved son is a murderer?

Murderer?

There's really no need

for such a dramatic,

sensational, old-fashioned word.

But if you insist,

the murderer, both

in my father's case

and our current

situation, is not me.

- Stop talking.

- Don't you understand

that you're wasting time?

And you don't have

much time left.

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