The Longest Week Page #6

the language.

He promptly lost consciousness.

Where does it hurt?

Conrad's worst fear had come true.

He was all alone.

Hello.

Who is this?

- It's your son, Conrad. Hi.

- Connie.

Where are you? What's that noise?

Can't you see I'm preoccupied?

When are you coming home?

I don't know, darling.

Divorces of this stature

can take some time.

How long, do you think?

Look, I... I have to go.

Maybe this won't blow over.

I just saw the most amazing

performance piece

where a husband and wife

tied themselves together

with a 10-foot rope

for an entire year.

It was a commentary

on the modern relationship.

That is the most beautiful

metaphor I've ever heard.

What happened to them?

They got a divorce.

I heard you met

with Beatrice earlier.

She was trying to get me

to do what we're doing right now.

Yeah.

Dylan, I guess you were right.

About what?

Sometimes I am my own worst enemy.

What happened to your face?

I got hit by a truck.

Zeus is dead.

"You could fetter my leg,"

"but Zeus himself cannot get

the better of my free will."

Hear, hear.

And I want my Volvo back.

That was just a joke.

How are things with Jocelyn?

We broke up again.

This time it's for good.

I think she was stealing from me.

That's rough.

How are things with Beatrice?

- Not so good.

- No?

Well, it's not a surprise considering

what an a**hole you are.

I resent that.

Well, you should. It was an insult.

You're not still mad at me,

are you?

Not at all.

Maybe a little.

I really thought

Beatrice and I were gonna last.

What is it?

- Hi.

- Hi.

Now, you two seem like

fans of literature.

I have got a very impressive library

at my apartment.

Really?

You wanna see

my Balzac collection?

You sure you don't wanna

do anything?

No, I can't, sorry.

It would be a misrepresentation

of how I feel inside.

I... I don't even know what that means.

Well, that's exactly the problem.

You can, um, keep the Volvo.

Beatrice, it's Conrad.

Give me a call. Call me back.

What do you see, Conrad?

Sex.

And now?

Beatrice. I mean, sex.

I mean, wait, Beatrice.

Now?

Sex.

This isn't healthy, Conrad.

I know that.

Meanwhile, Beatrice visited

her Upper West Side mystic

in an attempt to find similar answers

to her quandary.

Unfortunately, her prospects

were less than ideal.

I mean, I've only just moved

in, she's already kicked me out.

I don't know.

I don't know what to do.

Sometimes we have to make

sacrifices for the ones we love.

This literary moral code of yours

is completely unrealistic.

This isn't a Jane Austen novel,

and I'm certainly not Emily Post.

You have the moral code

of a Bolshevik, Conrad.

I mean, I'm... I'm having

an existential crisis here.

I can't stop thinking about her.

I think I need to see a doctor.

Conrad, I am a doctor.

Beatrice? Beatrice?

Note to self. Upon a second reading,

my analyst was correct.

It has EVERYTHING to do

with "Pygmalion"

Dylan, wake up.

What? What is it?

I need Jocelyn's phone number.

Allez, Beatrice.

Regarde-moi. Regarde-moi.

Voil. Comme ga. Magnifique.

Tu es belle, tu es belle.

Petit oiseau. Voila. Love.

Hate!

Stop! Don't move. Voil.

Superbe. Superbe.

Splendide. Encore une, encore une.

Une dernire pour la route.

OK, let's...

let's take a break.

Hi.

What happened to your head?

I got hit by a truck.

Yeah.

I like this music selection.

Whose is it?

What are you doing here?

I'm quitting. The whole act.

Well, it wasn't the act that bothered

me. It was the cover-up.

Well, the act was the cover-up.

I have to go back to work.

Can I have one hour?

I just need one hour.

- OK. One hour.

- Yeah.

Thanks. I'll be right here.

I hate surprises.

You're gonna like this one.

- I don't understand.

- It's for both of us.

Don't get too excited.

It's just a rental.

You didn't?

I did.

How?

There's no leaks in the ceiling.

Got his-and-her bathrooms.

This water is not brown.

What's wrong?

Nothing.

So did you actually go to the Picasso

retrospective last week?

- It was horrid.

- I know.

I'm sorry, but I find his work

pretentious and adolescent.

You know, if people

just sort of take a step back...

Do you ever notice that the people

who make fun of people

for being pretentious are

usually the pretentious ones?

It's just Duchamp

but without the wit.

You ever noticed how people

only lash out on others

because they're afraid of what

they see because they see themselves?

What if I tell you "I love you"?

Does that mean

I actually love myself?

Exactly.

I love you.

I love you too.

It was at that moment Conrad

and Beatrice knew that it was over.

Beatrice couldn't help

but feel sympathy for Conrad.

Not love but sympathy.

One can often get confused

for the other.

As the two exited the station,

they waved goodbye

to one another as usual.

It would be the last time

they would ever see each other.

It seemed there was

an unavoidable distinction

between Conrad and Beatrice that

had rendered them incompatible.

She was a hopeless romantic,

and he was romantically hopeless.

By the week's end,

Conrad had received a telegram

informing him of his parents'

reconciliation.

Their week-long divorce

had grown tiresome,

and they were to return home

in two days time.

As much as Beatrice had tried,

she was unable to forget

Conrad's actions.

Note to self. See doctor

about possible brain tumour.

Conrad went on to keep the empty

apartment as a sort of metaphor

for the void left by Beatrice.

He told no one of its existence.

It wasn't till years later

that Conrad would realise

love was just like communism -

it was a great idea

but never quite worked out.

Conrad may have told others that

he was in search of a girlfriend,

a future wife,

but it was merely rhetoric.

Conrad's search was for an idyllic

beauty he would never attain.

Conrad often became attached

to the idea of something

and not the actual thing itself.

Back in the Valmont with

his credit cards once again active,

Conrad resumed the life

he was accustomed to living.

But something was different.

Like this one right there.

Get that one.

I missed it.

OK, why the hell

are we fishing with spears?

What's wrong?

It's been a long week.

With the matriarch of the Valmont

household once again home,

Conrad was able to let out

a decade of emotions and fears

for she had long been

the only person

that he would truly confide in.

I think there's something wrong

with me.

In an attempt to change his ways...

Ding-dong.

...Conrad started down the road

to redemption

with the simple gesture

of quitting cigarettes,

of getting his father's

Austin-Healey out of hock,

and on one spring afternoon

while Dylan was out,

Conrad snuck into his friend's apartment

to finally repay him.

He not only monetarily compensated

Dylan for his loan

but also included the keys

to his Volvo

and an inflation-adjusted interest

of 20%.

These are classic symptoms.

I think you're a closet agoraphobic.

I'm terminating our sessions.

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