The Unsaid Page #5

- Thank you.

Sit. Can I get you anything?

A drink or something?

No. No. I think I'm um...

pushing the legal limit as it is.

Well... I don't who to worry about more

these days, Michael. You or Tommy?

Oh, please, tell me you saw me coming.

Nah. I was just flipping through

for clues perhaps. 'Cause uh...

For being such a master of the human

condition, you're not very...

...forthcoming about your own.

I don't actually walk my talk, do I?

I wrote this uh... not long after Kyle...

And yet he's not in it at all.

You don't mention him once.

To me, he's on every page.

You asked me uh...

the other day if Tommy

reminds me... of Kyle...

Yeah, he does, doesn't he?

At times, he is Kyle.

That's not uncommon, Michael.

You know that?

I know it's strange but

this is just something else...

There's something in his tone...

In his gestures.

I... I held him and I felt Kyle...

And his eyes...

Those, those are... those are his eyes.

I'm losing it.

No, you're not, Michael...

You just miss your son.

Okay. It's late. You're tired.

- Oh, please.

- Up you go. No.

- Oh, come on, Barbara.

- You stay here and relax.

No, I'm okay. Really. No, no, I'm okay.

No. I know you're okay,

but you stay here.

No. What're you doing?

I feel ridiculous.

- No. You don't feel ridiculous.

- Come on. Please?

Just relax. Alright? Sleep here tonight.

It's fine. You're tired. Get some sleep.

Thank you.

Tommy, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry.

It's okay.

- It's just that I like you so much.

- Shelly, don't.

- I love you, Tommy. I love you.

- Shelly, no. Shelly!

I just want to be with you.

No!

I said:
No!

I want to tell you something,

Mr. Caffey.

Is Tommy okay?

It's not about him. Well, it is,

but indirectly about him.

It's really more about me. About us.

What about us?

Nobody knows about this.

Not my ex-wife. Not my daughter.

What're you talking about?

We have something in common,

Mr. Caffey...

In fact, we're not very

different at all. You see...

I had a son of my own.

He was a happy kid. Loyal and

respectful. When he reached puberty...

...he kinda took a form of depression.

And my wife, she wanted him

to start medication but me...

I insisted that he go

into therapy with my...

With my college buddy

named Harry Quinlan.

My friend. Someone... that I trusted...

A few months went by and Kyle

seemed a little better.

And good old Harry, he told us to...

to be patient.

To keep the faith.

And I kept the faith

until my son, Kyle,

took his own life.

A couple of days afterthe funeral,

I found Kyle's farewell letterto me...

...explaining the shame that he felt

about his "special friendship"...

...with Harry Quinlan. And how much

that was too much to bear for him.

And how he couldn't keep

the secret anymore.

And how he couldn't stand feeling...

Dirty...

Harry Quinlan

was molesting my son.

The f***ing animal

was molesting my son.

And my sixteen-year-old boy,

could not find any other

way to rid himself...

Of the pain.

I went to a gun shop,

but there was a waiting period.

So I went straight to Harry Quinlars

house, because I wanted him dead.

Harry! Harry! Harry!

Get out of there, f***!

Open the door, Harry!

Open the door right now,

you piece of sh*t!

Harry, open the door!

Harry, you f***!

Open the door, Harry!

Way to go, Harry!

Harry, look at me!

Look at me!

Harry! Harry!

That was my boy!

Harry! My little boy!

You f***ing animal!

What're you gonna

do with that, Harry?

Open the door, you piece of sh*t!

Go! Go ahead!

Shoot me! Shoot me!

He was my little boy, Harry!

It was my little boy,

you f***ing animal! Do it!

Do it! Do it! Do it!

You know what separates us,

Mr. Caffey?

Not sanity. Not rational thought.

Just luck. Just dumb f***ing luck.

I just wanted you to know that.

It was Tommy.

What?

It was Tommy.

If you repeat this, I will deny it.

Like I have been

and I always will.

To my grave.

Do you understand?

I came home that... that day and uh

there was some... weird stuff going on.

That's it. You'll talk to him.

Well if you're not pressing charges, Mr.

Pasternak. You won't talk to the police.

Because I'm talking to you.

Well then, let's get Tommy down here.

Get his side of it, shall we?

So he can break my other arm? No.

He's crazy. I don't want to see him.

Fine. I will talk to him.

Now you go home.

I'll call you. I got your number.

Thank you.

Raymond, please, Raymond.

Watch where you're going, Ray-mond.

I want you to go find Tommy and ask

him to come down here, please?

- Okay.

- Alright.

Hey, Caffey?

You know that guy?

How you're doing, son?

I'm Detective Hannah

and this is my partner.

He's just talked to Barbara about you...

He sounded pretty pissed.

What happened to your hand?

Why are the cops here again?

Yeah well, they probably

want to fingerprint us now.

They need a suspect bad enough,

they come straight to Holly Hills.

Anyway, Barbara wanted to see you

and she did not look happy.

- He's not in the kitchen.

- I'm telling you, Michael.

He's not on campus.

Alright. Even if he thought he was

in trouble, he would not run away.

We can't let him go. He has to stay here

indefinitely. Continued therapy.

How can he manage to hide

that all these years?

- And to seem so calm and unaffected?

- He's not hiding it.

It's repressed so deeply, it never even

happened as far as he's concerned.

Now who's this kid with a busted hand?

He's Troy Pasternak.

He said that he and Tommy

got into it over some girl.

- Troy?

- Yeah, why?

Who's the girl?

He didn't say. Just uh that Tommy

has stolen her from him.

I'll call you later.

- You don't lock this?

- Michael? What're you doing?

- Where is she?

- Shelly?

Yeah. Shelly. Your daughter.

Where is she?

- Michael?

- Is she in her room?

Michael!

- You know where he is?

- Who?

You know who.

Tommy Caffey. My patient!

- You said he wasn't your patient.

- Don't be a smart-ass with me.

I didn't think you'd care!

So you chose not to tell me about him!

'Cause I knew you

would react like this.

Then you shouldn't have

done it to begin with!

You know nothing about him!

You don't know him, Shelly!

- I know him betterthan you do.

- What is that supposed to mean?

No. Not like that! God! You see

now how everybody thinks!

He's my friend, dad. We talk.

- You talk.

- Yeah.

Did you talk to him about us?

About our family?

Did you talk to him about Kyle?

And about how Kyle died?

Did you talk to him about

Kyle playing handball?

- Maybe. I don't know. I went by the...

- There is no maybe. Yes or no?

I don't know. We went by the old house

one time and I might've said something

Our house!

You took him to our house!

Inside our house!

- Michael, get out.

- Do you know about his kid?

- What kid?

- What kid?

- What kid?

- Stop yelling.

Where is he now?

Because he not at the home.

- Michael.

- I don't know.

- Shelly.

- I don't know.

You do not see him again.

You understand me?

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