Vinterviken Page #4

What the hell's going on?!

What?

A blow to his head.

I understand. Thanks for calling

Rolf has been knocked down.

He's at the hospital.

- I see.

- He's unconscious.

They said he had a letter in

his pocket with our address.

- Probably a welfare check.

- You be quiet now!

Not another word from you

He's moving back home.

I'll take care of him.

It was terrible.

He was standing there. I hit him

with the golf club. He collapsed.

- Oh, ish!

- I wouldn't dare.

- He could have died...

- God, what an experience...

- I'd like to go see him.

- Why?

- Maybe I killed him.

- No, don't go.

What if he comes back?

I once read about a burglar...

- he came back and cut

the whole family's throats.

- I'm serious about it.

- The same thieves as last time?

- That's what the police think.

- The ones that read your diary?

- Do you still love me?

- Yes.

- Can't we go to your place?

- I don't know if I can.

It's a little messy right now.

Rolf can come home today.

You got to help me get him.

Lena couldn't.

Never

- How is he?

- Making progress.

Hi buddy.

You're going home now.

I'll take care of you.

I'll make meatloaf.

Isn't he going to jail?

How can they?

They can't even interrogate him.

The police say there's no charges.

Hi.

Who was that?

- What are you staring at?

- Take it easy now, John-John.

Recognize me?

Doctors say it can take a while

for his memory to come back.

If it ever does.

- Yes, Elisabeth?

- Hi, Elisabeth, it's me...

Meat Loaf...!

- Hello?

- We have to talk...

I don't want to talk to you!

So it's you...

ls Elisabeth home?

In this house we use the door.

- I want to see her.

- You're not welcome here

You're the one who broke in here.

You little bastard!

If I see you here again,

I'll call the police. Understand?

You'll get there soon...

- You're going to an institution.

- You can't do anything to me.

Sure I can. I'll see to it

you never see my daughter again.

Get lost!

Faulkner was very disappointed

politically, after World War I.

He was a pilot himself. And

he had a lot of private setbacks.

You can see in his writing that

his viewpoint became very dark.

Or as he writes himself,

"In the choice between sorrow and..."

John-John!

What do you say, John-John?

Do you agree "...between sorrow

and nothing, I choose sorrow'?

Oh, I don't really know.

- Welcome Elisabeth!

- Sorry I'm late.

- I have to talk to you.

- Shut up!

I know what happened. You told

your dad about our paintings...

He's not my dad...

And you have the nerve to say

you love me. You're disgusting.

Keep away from me,

I'll never talk to you again.

But your father

hid the paintings!

- What do you mean hid them?

- It's called insurance fraud.

My god, you're a liar!

- Need any help?

- You can go to hell too.

Damn' it...

- I've told you to lay off her.

- What are you doing?

What? You don't get

my meaning?

What the hell, are

you stupid or what?

What are you doing?

Get him in. Get him in...get him in!

You're not so cocky now, huh?

Okay, Sluggo. Hit the n*gger.

Why. He's already

been beaten up...

- Come on now!

- Why?

I said hit him!

I-lit him!

Again! Once more!

Hit him again.

Hey! What are you doing?

- What's the matter?

- Nothing.

John-John's in there.

Guess what he found

under Papa's bed?

- But, where do they come from?

- John-John made magic.

Hands up.

- You put that down

- Hands up, I said.

- Give me that.

- Stop or I'll shoot.

I can get you a much nicer gun

Hi.

Have you seen Elisabeth?

- Nope...

- She doesn't want to see you

Maybe she changed her mind.

It's nice to see we have

an author among us.

I'll read you a composition,

the best I've received in many years.

- Have you seen Elisabeth?

- No. I don't know...

Shh! Listen!

"Sisters! Oh sisters! Why are

you always on the other side?

Why is there always

a kind of ocean between us?

Why are you always

somewhere else?

Why does one have to work

like an animal to get to you?

Sisters, oh sisters...

Tell me, what is love."

This is good!

It has presence and rhythm,

and a sway in the prose.

There's something wistful,

almost painful in the phrases...

It's good, John-John.

It is very good.

The next one is Elisabeth's.

She also takes up love...

But Elisabeth moved,

she's not with us any more

- The next composition is about...

- What? She moved?

Yes, she's moving

to Brussels today.

- Excuse me. Where are they?

- They just left.

You're too late, you bastard.

- John-John! Stop Papa.

- The hell I will.

I don't understand...

How could you do this...

Stop nagging. I did it for us

For our family.

You never give up, do you?

I'm talking to you!

Come!

Elisabeth, stop.

Stop!

It's cool...

Translation:

High Ground Copenhagen

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