The United States of Leland Page #2

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Hey, Mrs Pollard.

- Have you been up all night?

- Yes, I suppose I have.

Need a light there?

I... don't feel so bad.

I thought you quit, too.

How could he have been

that much to someone?

How could he mean enough

for that boy to hurt him?

He was barely there.

Mrs Pollard, I really

don't know what to say.

Um...

But I just want you to know...

that if there's anything

that I can do, just tell me.

It's all right, sweetheart.

And as you look out over Venice today,

you see the city...

- Hey. - Hey, in Venice,

there's no streets, right?

There's just rivers and sh*t?

Er, canals and sh*t, yeah.

They don't even allow

cars on the island.

- You can hear footsteps.

- What's that?

Since they don't allow cars,

when you're walking around,

all you can hear is footsteps.

Hey, Pearly,

help me out here, bro.

I'm developing this theory, right,

that the suicide rate of Venice is real low.

Cos if you jump off a building,

all your ass is gonna do is splash

in a canal and sh*t, right?

OK, well, why don't we expand

on that theory tomorrow?

Class dismissed, you guys. Go ahead

and bring your books up to the front.

Hey, where were you, B?

I was kinda wondering...

Maybe I could keep this

and do some writing in my room?

Unfortunately, I can't allow you

to take anything out of a class.

But I'll keep it up

here safe for you.

Hey, um... I'm jealous.

- When did you go to Italy?

- My dad lives in Paris.

So sometimes,

we travel together.

I guess I'll see you tomorrow.

You're the one that killed

that retarded kid, huh?

Was it some kind of

devil worship thing?

What did you do to your hand?

I stabbed myself.

If you're going for suicide,

I'd say try the stomach or somethin'.

I just wanted to know

what it felt like.

I bet it hurt.

Should've just asked me, devil boy,

I would have saved you some trouble.

The journal goes down the front of your

pants, the pencil goes in your sock.

Thanks.

I'm just glad to see

somebody's writing.

Er, Pearl?

Can I ask you a question?

It's about your name.

You're wondering, why Pearl?

- You like basketball?

- Sure.

Well, in the '70s, there was this guy

who played for the Knicks.

His name was Earl Monroe.

His nickname was The Pearl.

- Earl the Pearl?

- Earl the Pearl, right.

Well, my parents

were in Queens then.

My mom was a dancer.

She hated sports.

But somehow my dad talked her into going

to check out a game at the Garden.

It just turns out that it's

Earl the Pearl's night.

Cat went off,

dropped 33 points on the Celtics.

After the game, all my mom could do

was talk about how watching him play

was like watching a dance recital,

because he moved like poetry...

- Hey! Hey! Break it up!

- Outta my way, man!

Anyway, when I was a kid,

that was pretty much

all the story I got.

But a couple of Christmases ago,

I'm knocking a few back with my dad.

And he embellishes.

So, after the game,

they went back to Queens.

Well, thankfully,

my dad spared me the details here.

But um... the condom broke.

And nine months later, whoops.

- Here comes Pearl.

- Here comes Pearl.

Trust me, the sock.

I know what they

want from me.

They want a reason, something to tie up

with a little Bow and bury in the back yard.

Bury it down so deep,

it's like it never happened.

They want me to

say how I'm so sorry

and it was my mom's fault,

or maybe it was

my dad's fault,

or it happened because

of TV or movies or...

some junk like that.

Or maybe I blame some girl.

Not even when you

were a little kid?

You never thought about

whether there was angels or not?

Maybe when I was a little kid.

My grandmother died

when I was real little.

And after that, every time...

I stole candy or fought

with my mom or...

...played with myself

or something,

I'd get this real bad feeling.

I'd picture her from up high with this big

frown on her face, looking down on me.

I don't think that

they frown on us.

I think that...

they look after us.

You know, like guardian angels.

They take care of us,

make sure...

...make sure nothing bad happens,

make sure everything's OK.

Well, how come everything's not OK

most of the time?

Well, maybe they're lazy.

What?

No, it's just kind of funny,

lazy angels.

It makes me think of these big, fat guys

with wings, drinking beer and playing darts.

I want you to be my

guardian angel, Lee.

I want you to float over me,

make sure that...

...everything's gonna be OK.

Your hair smells like...

strawberries.

It's my shampoo,

dodo, it's not my hair.

- Well, I still like it.

- Look at me.

I'm serious, OK?

I want you to say that

you're always gonna be there.

Sometimes I'm somewhere else.

Just tell me that everything's...

gonna be OK.

Well, I can't really make

sure everything's OK.

I know, but...

Sometimes you say

things that aren't...

totally true.

But you say them

anyways because...

...you want it to be true, you know,

maybe... maybe that's good enough.

Just...

Just tell me everything's

gonna be OK.

Why don't you whisper

it in my ear, soft?

Everything's gonna be OK.

Yeah, well...

if they extend the run,

you gotta stay, right?

Course you gotta stay.

I recognise that.

I'm not thrilled about it,

but you know...

I recognise it.

It's water, Miranda.

No, it is, it's water.

Listen.

Ah! Sweet H20.

Yeah.

No, it's fine.

The writing's going fine.

The truth? OK.

Um...

The truth is,

whenever I sit down to write,

I think I'm coming out of the gate

with something fresh and just...

it winds up being a different

spin on Boneyard.

Yeah, I've basically been rewriting

the same story for three years

and I still can't get the

damn thing published.

Thanks, honey.

No, I appreciate it, but you're not really a

writer unless people are reading your sh*t.

So, Miranda, look... um.

I'm excited for you, really.

I am.

I'm fired up about all this.

I love that it's going so well for you.

This might be that big break

you've been looking for.

When that comes along, you've gotta

tear into that sh*t like a rabid dog.

I recognise that.

It'd just be a lot easier

if you were here.

...Fitzgerald's arrest.

Right now, any connection between

the two teens is unclear.

We'll have more

news right after this.

Nobody enjoys shopping

for auto insurance.

but try and do it when you've

had three speeding tickets.

Or an accident.

I recall when our lives

were unusual and electric,

when we burned with

something close to fire.

But now, we sway

to a different rhythm.

Lives lived without meaning

or even directed hope.

The passage of time

measured only by loss.

Loss of a job,

loss of a minivan...

...a son.

Hi, Beth.

Are you OK?

What?

Sorry, what did you say?

I asked if you were OK.

Yeah. Am I...

Am I OK about that guy, right?

Kinda seemed like he

was bothering you.

That's OK. Er...

it happens all the time.

I think it's the uniform.

I have to wear it

at this school that I go to.

And it's supposed

to be really plain.

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