White Oleander
Everybody asks why I started at the end
and worked back to the beginning.
The reason is simple.
I couldn't understand the beginning
until I had reached the end.
There were too many pieces
of the puzzle missing.
Too much she would never tell.
People want to buy them.
But I'd set all this on fire first.
She'd like that.
That's what she would do.
She'd make it just to burn it.
I couldn't afford this one, but the
beginning deserved something special.
But how do I show that nothing,
not a taste...
... not a smell, not even
the color of the sky...
... has ever been as clear and sharp
as it was when I belonged to her.
I don't know how to express that being
with someone so dangerous...
... was the last time that I felt safe.
The Santa Anas blew in hot
from the desert that fall.
Only the oleanders thrived.
Maybe the wind was the reason
my mother did what she did.
If it was, I wouldn't have known.
She was the most beautiful woman
I'd ever seen.
Everybody thinks that
when they're small...
... but she was the most beautiful woman
most people had ever seen.
He came into our lives without warning.
She ignored him at first.
He wasn't her type.
We laughed about him, his persistence.
"Never let a man spend the night,"
she said. Never apologize, never explain.
She was breaking all her rules.
And it would change everything.
What are you doing up here?
Come sit next to me.
It's the best place to feel the wind.
I can feel it from here.
No, you can't.
It's okay.
You should get some sleep.
I never sleep.
I've been up here for hours.
I had the most amazing idea for how to
use my Polaroids in the Newport show.
I'm gonna skip work today.
Keep going until I finish.
You're still coming to parents' night,
aren't you?
Oh, God, I forgot.
I made plans to go to Greta's opening.
All the other parents go.
What can they tell me about you
that I don't already know?
Time's up! Pencils down.
Papers, please. Thank you.
Thank you. Time, Astrid.
Thank you.
Is your mother coming tonight?
No. She has other plans.
More important than parents' night?
She's an artist. She doesn't care
about things like parents' night.
Right. And don't forget, you guys,
chapters 17 and 18 for tomorrow.
Finished my mug shots.
What do you think?
They're great.
No. You're not looking.
You can't be an artist if you don't see.
Why do you think they're great?
I don't know.
They're lonely.
It's me in the center.
It's our secret.
You can't tell anybody.
I won't. I never tell our secrets.
It's the deer-in-the-headlights look.
Hilarious.
- How long has this been going on?
- Couple months.
- His wife's gonna figure it out.
- She's an idiot.
Cinema Scene.
It's Barry Kolker again.
Tell him I was killed
in a climbing accident in the Himalayas.
Barry, she's still out of town.
We don't have any eggs.
We never have any eggs.
Barry can take us out to breakfast.
Barry spent the night?
Yeah.
Excuse me.
I bet he's still out of town.
I called the magazine.
He got back three days ago.
He's probably working.
He doesn't call then.
He doesn't call when he's getting
what he wants from somebody else.
I don't think you should do this.
He'll get mad.
- I'll just say we were in the neighborhood.
- He won't believe us.
You're not my type.
You're not my type.
What happened?
He has a date.
He made love to me
and then said I had to leave...
...because he has a date.
- No! Get away from me.
- Get her out!
- You have no right!
- You're under arrest...
...for the murder of Barry Kolker.
- They can't keep me!
I'll be back in an hour!
You must be Astrid? I'm Miss Martinez
from Children's Services to pick you up.
If you need more time, I can
give you 15 minutes, but that's it.
I'm not going. I'm waiting
for my mother to come home.
Your mother won't be coming home.
At least not for a while.
- Any legal cause why sentence of
judgment should not now be imposed?
Therefore, in accordance
with the laws of California...
...I sentence you to the term
prescribed by law for murder.
Not less than 35 years to life
in a maximum-security prison.
- Hey!
- Hello, Starr. How are you?
Well, I'm fine! How are you?
- Good to see you.
- You too.
Y'all must be starving.
I hope you like olive loaf.
- I made enough to feed an army.
- Astrid?
- How was traffic?
- Bad downtown...
...but it cleared up pretty fast.
- Oh, good.
There you go. Astrid Magnussen,
this is Starr Thomas.
It is so nice to meet you, Astrid.
Come on in! Here, let me help you
with that. Was it a long drive?
- Yeah.
- Yeah?
I hope you didn't bring a ton of stuff.
You'll share a room with my daughter.
This is our home.
This is where we have company.
Then in here is the kitchen
and whatnot.
The boys sleep here.
We don't have enough bedrooms.
That's Davey in the glasses, and Owen.
This is Astrid.
Boys, you say hi?
Carolee? I said, get out here right now.
Let's just go in there.
This is Carolee, my daughter.
Make some room, okay?
This is where you'll sleep.
She'll clean up. Don't worry.
Just don't mind her. She's hormonal.
The problem is she hasn't been saved.
What about you?
What?
Have you accepted Jesus Christ
as your personal savior?
I don't know.
When you do, he'll be waiting. Okay?
This is where Ray and I sleep,
and the bathroom's here.
Let's go back in here.
Ray's home late tonight. It's poker night.
Don't talk to him about Jesus.
He acts like he's the repo man or
something, not a carpenter like him.
You must be the new addition.
I'm Ray.
Or Uncle Ray, but that's Starr's idea.
Not mine.
I'm Astrid.
It's nice to meet you, Astrid.
You coming in?
Well, how come?
I'm thinking.
Oh, what about?
My mother.
Starr was telling me about her. She's
doing time for killing her boyfriend, right?
Yeah, well, those things happen.
You come in when you're ready, okay?
That slut said I was grounded, like
she's the mother in The Brady Bunch.
Listen to that.
Saved by Jesus.
She's such a hypocrite.
They shouldn't be doing it.
They're not even married.
Reverend Daniels always blah-blahing
about Jesus.
All he really wants to do
is look at her ass.
Don't forget to leave the window open.
Don't look at me like that.
You're no different than I am.
You just don't know it yet.
I'm gonna kill you, Ingrid!
I'm gonna strangle you, b*tch!
You bloody b*tch!
Sin is a virus.
That's what Reverend Thomas says.
It's infecting the whole country
like the clap.
We've got every excuse.
What's wrong if I shovel coke up my nose
or want to feel good? Who does it hurt?
Well, it hurts us.
And it hurts Jesus. Because it's wrong.
I don't know how you swallow that.
"He who believeth in me, though he was
dead, yet will he live." Don't forget it.
Here we are.
It's a miracle I'm not dead. They took
my kids away. I was an alcoholic...
...a cokehead. I was dancing topless.
- People are staring.
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"White Oleander" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/white_oleander_23399>.
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