"Defend me, O God, thy humble servant in all assaults of the enemy, that I, surely trusting in thy defense, may not fear the power of the adversary, that the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart," "be always acceptable in thy sight." "O Lord, my strength and my redeemer." "Hi, Clair." "Excuse me, Reverend." "The news is on." " Good morning." " Morning." "Well, the big news of the hour is, once again, you guessed it, Fay Grim." "Look, Ned." "It's the lady terrorist, Fay Grim." "Hey!" "Gotta make it look like you did some work around here today, Derek." "The suburban single mom from Woodside, Queens, convicted of treason and sentenced to a lifetime in prison without hope of parole is finally being transferred from a secret U.S. military detention center and placed in a federal penitentiary in upstate New York." "Should've killed that slut when they found her." "Save the taxpayers a whole lot of money." "So, Lisa, what's the feeling there on the ground?" "Well, Bob, there's a sizable crowd of protesters out by the road chanting for Fay's execution, but by and large, the community here is simply curious." "I say being in prison her whole life long... best thing that ever happened to that girl." "She goes out on the streets, somebody's bound to hit her in the head with a baseball bat or something." "Chet, can you see what the problem is with the girl's lavatory?" "Right away, Reverend." "Right away." "Just on my way." "You ladies have a nice day now." "The poor woman." "Mary, pull yourself together." "She's a traitor to the nation, an international terrorist." "She's Ned's mother!" "Yes, well, of course this wouldn't be the first time that a perfectly decent, God-fearing, sober-minded person like Ned has risen up and escaped from such moral ruin." "I think she's innocent." "She's been convicted, Mary." "Mistakes have been made before." "Anyway, Ned's been traumatized by all this." "It's a miracle he's as well-adjusted as he is." " Has he decided yet?" " I believe so." "He's 18 today." "He's free to leave witness protection if he chooses." "What do you suppose he's thinking about?" " Me." " Keep dreaming, Clair." "He smiled and said hello." "You're the minister's daughter for crying out loud." "He lives in your house." "I bet he's had sex and everything." "No, he's chaste, I'm certain." "Do you really think he'll leave, now that he's 18?" "I hope not." "But, Mama, why is Ned in witness protection anyway?" "Clair, you know we can't discuss those things." "This plate is chipped." "See if there's another one." "Not even now, now when he's about to leave?" "Oh, really?" "Is he leaving?" "That's what everybody says." "What everybody says, I see." "Well, why don't you ask him yourself?" "Here he comes now." "That was great, Mrs. Gardner." "Thank you." "There's more." "No, thanks." "I'm stuffed." "Derek, what did I tell you?" "No mobile devices at the table." "They let that lady terrorist go today." "You mean Fay Grim." "They didn't let her go." "They just moved her." "Enough!" "Derek, help your sister bring out the coffee and dessert." "I'm sorry." "At least I know where she is now." "So you've decided?" "Yes." "Are you sure you want to return to that... well, that life?" "She's my mother." "Happy Birthday!" "Wow!" "Thank you." "Clair made it." "Thank you, Clair." "I don't know if it'll be any good or anything." " I'm sure it is." " It's chocolate." "What should I wish for?" "No, it's gotta be a secret." "Does it?" "No." "Clair, that's just superstitious." "Alice, what do you say?" ""The secret things belong unto the Lord our God."" "Clair?" ""Ecclesiastes"?" "No. "Judges." Sit down." "Go ahead, Ned." "Wish away." "I wish..." "I wish this family the peace, the happiness, and the security it has provided me these past 4 years forever and ever." "Amen." "Dad." "Oh, yes, Ned, this is just a little something from all of us." "Don't open it now." "Happy Birthday." "Thank you, all." "It's a Bible." "Derek!" ""Our thoughts go with you and our hopes also."" "Wow!" "Clair!" "I wish you wouldn't leave." "I know that." "You're an important and loved member of this community." "Besides, there is work here for you if you want it, a career, maybe even the ministry." "I believe you have a true calling." "I've prayed on it, Reverend." "I'm not sure it's for me." "I know, as you do, that I've made mistakes, indiscretions." "That young lady from Florida, in particular." "We're all human, sir." "Temptation exists." "Yes, but I owe you my life for your help in covering up that disgraceful and tragic episode." "Make your peace with God, Reverend." "You're too good a man to be brought low by a mistake of that kind." "In any event, your secret is safe with me." "Don't spend it all in one place." "Thank you, Reverend." "I'll pay this back in time." "No rush." "You'll retain your new identity, your new name?" "Yes." "What are your intentions?" "I'm going to find my father." "I see." "Of course." "And what then?" "What will you do when you find your father?" "I'm going to kill him." "I'm going to kill him for destroying my mom's life, for leading her astray, away from the light, and the power, and the glory that is God." "I learned it here, sir, and I thank you for the knowledge." "I was going to say "Go in peace."" "I'm sorry, Reverend, but that's not likely." "Hold it, son." "No sudden movement." "Appropriate physical contact only." "Right?" "You're so tall, and you've got color." "Your hair is darker." "Do you have a girlfriend?" "Maybe." "I don't know." "Ha!" "Playing the field, good, be careful though, O.K.?" "I'm chaste, Mom." "You're what?" "I'm a virgin." "It's what God wants." "We should remain chaste until marriage." "Mom, it's O.K." "You're religious?" "There's a better way to live." "Yeah, well, tell me about it." "But how are you?" "Oh, well, this place is a barrel of laughs compared to where I was." "At least you're allowed to see people, talk to people." "I do yoga." "I'm starting a book club." "Oh, and a big publishing company paid me a million dollars for my autobiography-- you know, suburban-single- mom-terrorist sort of thing." "They're sure it'll be a best-seller." "Are they allowed to do that?" "Well, no." "I'm not allowed to earn money myself, but they've set up an account for you." "Simon has all the details." "So you're writing the story of your life?" "Not me exactly." "No." "They send this graduate student chick over once a week who's supposed to be a genius or something." "She asks me questions and records it all." "She does all the work." "Mom, forgive me, but..." "you're not a terrorist, right?" "How can you ask me that?" "You're just, like, totally falsely accused, correct?" "Yeah, well, of course." "But..." "I did some stupid things." "I was confused." "I lied about--about..." "Well, you see, Ned, there was, you know, a bomb." "Mom, it's O.K. I believe you." "God, I'm such an idiot." "No, you're not." "Oh, what my life might've been if I'd never met your father." "I know." "I mean, apart from having you." "Where is he now?" " Henry?" " Yes." "Russia, I guess." "Odessa, I think." "After that, who knows?" "Who cares?" "Forget about him, Ned." "He deserves to die for the trouble he's caused you." "Oh, don't talk like that." "Who deserves to die?" "There's a woman here-- Florence." "She shot and killed her husband and two little girls." "Most days, she wants to die, but more and more, she's just this kind, little woman who's happy to work all day in the laundry." "What gets into people?" "The devil, probably." "Fay, time's up." "Go see your Uncle Simon." "He's got the information about the publisher and the money." "O.K." "You'll come back soon, right?" "As soon as I can." "I have to take care of something first." "Don't forget me in here." "I may have to be away for a while." "O.K. Call me." " I'm sorry, young man." "Time's up." " O.K." "Between 7:00 and 9:00 on Wednesday." "I'm always here." "Hi." "I'm here to see a friend of mine." "Mr. Simon Grim?" "Is he expecting you?" "I believe so." "Yes, sir, someone's here." "A Mister..." "Edward Rifle." "Mr. Rifle." "Of course." "It's the elevator to the 4th floor, room 423." "It's the street side." "Ned, nice to see you." "Thanks for visiting." "I'm just revising my new material." "A new poem?" "No, I'm through with all that." "Working on my stand-up routine." "You want to be a comedian?" "Yeah, why not?" "Am I not funny?" "Well, it's been a while, Uncle Simon." "That's right." "It's been a while, and real-life experience has taught me much, that perhaps I'd overlooked as a poet laureate and cultural touchstone." "People want a good laugh now and then, Ned, trust me." "Good old-fashioned slapstick humor, naughty innuendo, a few well-placed fart jokes." "Enough with the earnest reflection, the tragic but unifying elusiveness of the human spirit in modern times and so on." "I'm through with it." "Only now, after all this heartbreak and controversy, only now, am I able to confront my inner clown." "Look, Uncle Simon, my mom said you had some money for me." "Oh, yeah, here it is." "That's the bank card." "The pin number's on the Post-It note." "Thanks." "So where exactly do you do this?" "Do what?" "Your stand-up comedy routine." "Right here in front of the computer." "I have a weekly video blog." "I'm about to post a new one, but I can't seem to get this joke right." "Ah!" "That's Zach, my comedy coach." "Excellent." "Think funny." "Hi, Zach." "Come on in." "Zach this is my nephew, Ned." "Ned, Zach." "Think funny." "Hey, you know, you guys have work to do, and I have to go get a room." "I'll leave you to it for now." "Talk to you later, Simon." "See you later, kid." "Have you got a room free?" "How many nights?" "2, 3, maybe." "Yeah, I can do that." "A single, right?" "Right." "Can I leave my suitcase here?" "Sure." "Wow, that's a lot of money." "Hey." "Hey." "Are you staying at the hotel?" "Oh, I just sort of hang around there." "Oh, well, I'm sorry but..." "I'm not interested." "In what?" "In whatever it is you're selling." "Do you think I'm a prostitute?" "What do you want?" "To meet Simon Grim." "Oh, that's why you hang around the hotel?" "He never leaves the building." "I've been here for weeks." "I did my graduate thesis on his poetry." "Susan." "Edward." "He claims he's over poetry now and wants to do stand-up comedy." "Of course." "All the poets are doing that now." "It's the new thing." "Have you seen his blog?" "Not yet." "Don't." "It's bad, huh?" "It's perfectly harmless, mind-numbingly attuned to the lowest common denominator of consumer entertainment." "What do you want to talk to him about then?" "Are you familiar with his work?" " Grim's?" " Yes." "A little." "I sometimes work for his comedy coach, Zach." "He's a jerk." "Zach?" "I asked him to introduce me to Grim, and he insisted on sexual favors." "No!" "And afterwards, he still refused to introduce me." "You're not well." "I got caught in the rain yesterday." "Where do you stay?" "Oh, around." "Do you have a room for my friend here?" "She's your friend?" "Yes, I'm paying." "He thinks I'm a prostitute, too." "No, you're the poet laureate stalker." "Ex-poet laureate." "She wrote a book about him." "I have no singles left." "This place doesn't seem so busy." "Still, no singles." "You got the last one." "I do have a double, though." "Does that mean two beds?" "Two single beds." "That O.K. with you?" "Where's that comedy coach of yours?" "I fired him." "Yeah?" "I don't think Zach knows the first thing about being funny." "And you do?" "You appear to doubt my comic chops." "Simon, what are you doing?" "I want to be popular and liked, like everybody else." "But you're not popular, and it takes most people a while to get to know you before they like you, and once they like you, they tend to love you." "Yeah, but I can change that." "Why?" "Have you read my poetry?" "Yeah, well, no." "Not really, but I'm not that into poetry." "But that's just it." "Shouldn't I be doing something that a hip, young guy like yourself is interested in?" "Am I hip?" "Well, I don't know." "Aren't you?" "You're young." "Simon, if you're all set on chucking poetry, don't waste your time trying to be a stand-up comic." "Set you eyes on the straight and narrow, and give yourself to Jesus." "You're not just trying to be funny now, are you?" "No, of course not." "Well, this is new." "You've found God?" "Look, I have a friend downstairs who wants to meet you." "Is this an intervention?" "A what?" "Am I going to be baptized or something?" "No." "She knows all about your poetry." "She wants to give you a copy of her dissertation." "It's the least you can do, I think, really." "O.K., bring her up." "Tomorrow." "She's sleeping." "Now, any ideas about where my father might be?" "Seattle." "Hundreds of people follow my blog, and many of them write in and post comments." "Henry, who seems to work at, or used to work at a certain bookstore in Seattle, writes in weekly, and assassinates my character in increasingly elaborate ways." "I think more people follow my blog to read him than to see my stand-up routine, honestly." "You're not going to try and save Henry for Jesus, are you?" "And what if I am?" "O Lord, give unto thy servant that peace that the world cannot give, that my heart may be set to obey thy commandments," "That through thee I remain constant of purpose and fearless of the enemy." "Lighten my darkness, O Lord, I beseech thee, and by thy mercy defend me from the perils and dangers of this night, for the love of thy Holy Son, our Savior," "Jesus Christ." "Amen." "He said 10:00?" "Any time after 10:00." "How do I look?" "Great." "What are you all dolled-up for?" "You're just going to be talking about poetry and literature." "I don't look like a slut, do I?" " No." " Really?" "Yeah, it's just I don't-- well, I don't know anything about literature." "That's right, you don't." "See you this afternoon." "Good luck." "She went up to the poet laureate 10 minutes ago." "We're O.K. with the room, right?" "Two more nights." "O.K., thanks." "Want me to tell her anything?" "No." "Make sure she knows the room's hers." " La Guardia Airport." " O.K." "I've always read the poems, even, and especially the later ones, as an evocation of the joys and sorrows of influence." "The evolution of one's own manner of perceiving and inevitably expressing the world to one's self and to others, the sadness of breaking with the cherished attitudes inherited from the friendly, encouraging, but ultimately limited sources that must be outgrown." "Please go on." "I recognize that voice-- the tempter, the challenger, the seducer, the friend." "Yes." "I use the term "antagonist" to start with, but it's more fluid than that." "I could never find the right word for how he feels to be with." "It's actually more like being inspired by the wind, the rain, a sickness, some other uncontrollable element--demonic." "You seem to know Henry better than I do." "It's expressed better in the body of the text itself, but that is, I think, it generally." "It was difficult to get out from the shadow he cast." "There was always something apt about his most unreasonable ranting and raving that kept me from dismissing his input entirely-- his own failures, his own ineptitude, his delusions." "These, I came to see, were my lens onto the world." "It provided a material out of which to shape an image of that world as I endured it." "Endured it?" "I merely endured the world until my friend, Henry, showed me one could do otherwise." "It was the same with me." "Excuse me?" "I mean, of course, through the reading of your poetry, how you rendered him and his influence upon you." "I'm moved by how intimately you've engaged in my poetry." "It means the world to me, and I was so afraid" "I might be totally mistaken." "What do you want?" "A documentary?" "A YouTube feed?" "A series of Tweets?" "Whatever you want, just ask." "Stop doing your blog." "Oh." "The stand-up thing is awful." "Wow." "Decisive, committed, admittedly obscure work indifferent to mainstream approval and unafraid of confrontation with moral and aesthetic absolutes." "This, more than you might imagine, is what keeps people from jumping out windows and under trains." "Adding to mass-cultural self-congratulation, is, of course, its own reward-- cheap, immediate, and disposable, as it is." "Sorry." "So you think it's O.K. for me to be unpopular?" "Oh, I think it's necessary." "You're an unusual person." "I have few friends." "I hope I haven't hurt your feelings." "No." "Thank you." "I hope we can talk again soon, but I have to ask, are you religious, as well?" "As well?" "As Ned, my nephew, who introduced us." "You mean Edward?" "We call him Ned." "Young Mr. Rifle?" "That's my mother's maiden name." "He was advised to remain incognito." "The son of Fay Grim?" "And Henry Fool." "You're leaving?" "Oh, I just...forgot I have to do something, and no, I'm not religious." "Sorry." "Thank you so much." "Come back soon." "I will." "Where's my friend Mr. Rifle?" "Your room is paid for for the next 2 nights." "Where has he gone?" " I saw him hail a cab." " And?" "He might've said something about La Guardia Airport." "Thank you." "What are you doing here?" "My meeting with Simon Grim was amazing." "Thank you so much for setting it up." "Sure, sure, but you didn't have to come all the way out here to thank me." "I mean, the room's paid up for a couple of nights." "I know, but I like you." "Oh, man." " Do you have a girlfriend?" " Stop." "I know I'm a little older than you, but I'm fun, and I know a bunch of different languages, and I don't do drugs, and" "Why Seattle?" "I have some business to do there for Simon Grim." "You don't work for Zach anymore?" "No." "Dad?" "Toothpaste, soap, shampoo." "Look at these towels." "You look fine." "Really?" "You have no clothes but what you're wearing?" "No, but I can get these laundered here." "Is that O.K.?" "Go buy yourself some things." "I have to go meet someone." "Tomorrow, you can take me to the bookstore." "How long will you be?" "Hard to tell." "Don't wait up." "Fay." "So, listen, wiseguy, like I was saying last week" "Fay, hold on." "What?" "Did Ned come to see you yet?" "Yeah, he did." "Hasn't he gotten tall?" "He's, like, you know, a man and everything." "And he's Christian." "Yeah, right?" "Where does he get that from, I wonder?" "Apparently, he's lived with a devout family these past 4 years." "You see, Simon, that's what I mean." "He's so damn impressionable, that kid." "But anyway, I think it's you he gets that from." "Me?" "I haven't been inside a church since you married Henry." "Yeah, well, it's how, like, people discuss you and everything." "You're this weird kind of moral compass in a society half convinced of its own worthlessness." "You don't sound like yourself." "Who have you been talking to?" "Oh, this graduate student the publisher hired to write my autobiography was here the other week." "She's got a truckload of ways to say how you've influenced the zeitgeist and everything, Simon." "Really, I was impressed, but then I told her how I always had to get you out of fights in high school." "Fay, listen, I need to talk to you about something important." "Oh, and, like, my autobiography is not important?" "No, of course it is, but, Fay, did Henry ever tell you about the girl he went to prison for having sexual relations with?" "You mean, the 13-year-old girl he sexually molested?" "Well, O.K., yes." "No." "Her name was Susan." "Do I really have to hear this?" "Yes, because I believe I met this girl, Susan, yesterday." "What?" "I mean, she's a woman, now, of course." "She's written this remarkable study of my work, or at least, that aspect of my work which she feels, and I must admit, she's onto something here, that aspect of my poetry that centers on my friendship with Henry." " That's odd." " Not really." "Unusual, yes, but an original and provocative reading of these poems and" "No, I mean, this graduate student who's writing a story of my life." "Her name is Susan, too." "What does she look like?" "Early 30s, skinny, addicted to lipstick." "And the lipstick is not on, you know, correctly." "Exactly." "She's kind of helpless." "Where did you meet her?" "Well, that's the thing." "She was introduced to me by Ned." " Uh-oh." " My feelings exactly." "Are you sure it's her?" "Fay, she sat here and talked about my poems in a way that only a person could if they knew Henry intimately." "You said she was with Ned?" "He introduced her to me." "And, were they, like, together?" "I think so." "You know he's chaste, right?" "Chaste?" "Yeah, it means, you know, that, like" "I know what chaste means, Fay." "Well, what do you think she's up to?" "It's hard to say." "I hope she's not a psycho killer or anything." "I was really enjoying our time together." "I'll talk to your publisher and see what I can find out." "I'll be over in Erotica if you need me." "Whatever." "Yeah?" "Looking for a friend of mine who I think used to work here." "An older guy named Henry." " Henry?" " Loudmouth." " Troublemaker?" " Drunkard." " Thief." " Egomaniac." " Sex fiend?" " That's him." "We fired him." "He's not allowed in the store anymore." "But he's around?" "As far as I know, he's always at the topless bar down the block with his pal, Bud, who's also not allowed in here anymore." "You gonna buy that?" "This is it, I guess." "Wait here." "There's no way you're 21, buddy." "Oh, wait, I just need to go in and find somebody." "No matter, man." "I can't let you in." "I'll go." "What's his name?" "But she can go in?" "Dude, it's a gentleman's club, O.K.?" "Smokin' babes are always welcome." "I used to dance here." "No, when?" "You were just a child." "Talk dirty to me." "What's his name?" "Bud." "Bud?" "You're looking for Bud?" "Right at the bar." "Bud?" "I can't." "Not now." "I'm working." "Dude, it's nothing personal." "What?" "It's just the law." "There's a law higher than the law." "Really?" "Do you think I'd ever want to go into a place like this if I didn't have to?" "I see." "I was mistaken." "Sorry, man." "Ned, this is Bud." "Bud, this is Ned." "You wanna talk to me?" "Yeah." "About what?" "Henry." "Buy me lunch." "No problem." "And, like, I'm gonna need some booze." "I send him his reading material, books I steal from the library over here." "Where?" "Where do you send the reading material?" "He took this job as a, I don't know, test case for some drug company or something down outside of Portland, Oregon." "Do you have the address, the name of the place?" "Ashbrook Pharmaceuticals." "Hey, you ain't, like--he don't owe you money or nothing, right?" "No." "He didn't impregnate your sister or nothing?" "I'm a friend." "'Cause he's my teacher and shit." "I gotta watch his back." "Yeah?" "What did he teach you?" "He taught me to write." " Poetry, I guess." " Damn straight." "I was just a garbage man before Henry came to town." "Listen, thanks for talking to me." "I have to go." "What about my booze?" "My friend will be here with it any minute now." "She your girl?" "No." "Because I think she sorta digs me." "Yeah, I think so, too." "So, just wait here." "Listen, don't tell her what we talked about O.K.?" "Done." "Or where I'm headed." "Double done." "Mr. Grim." "Yes, hello." "Simon." "Such an unexpected pleasure, really." "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice." "Not at all, please, come on in." "Simon Grim." "I thought he was dead." "I know." "Wow, you're a sight for sore eyes." "Where's Ned?" "Ned?" "Ned who?" "Who's Ned?" "Come on, Bud." "We're friends, right?" "Oh, yes." "I've been writing a poem about you even." "So you have to tell me where Ned's gone." "But this poem, you see, requires a certain creatural detail." "The currency of lived experience, so to speak." "What's it about, this poem?" "Your thigh." "Which one?" "Wow, now there's an idea." "Bud, concentrate." "This one." " You want to touch it?" " I have to." "How long?" "60 seconds is the structural prerequisite of my poetic expression." "A formalist." "Interesting, but where has Ned gone?" "Ashbrook Pharmaceuticals, Portland, Oregon." "O.K., let's do it." "I'm interested in the young woman you've hired to ghost-write my sister's autobiography." "Susan." "It's come to my attention she's written a quite thorough analysis of my own work." "Ah, yes." "Well, so you know about this then?" "I was impressed." "Really, you've read it?" "Yes, I'd like to know more about her." "She'd been writing movie reviews for a small, city-wide entertainment guide." "She developed quite a following because, well, because no matter what she was reviewing, it always came around to a discussion of your poetry." "I see." "It's quite hilariously obsessive." "But well-written?" "One couldn't fault the grammar, but the irony was a bit too intense for me." "Nevertheless, she became popularly associated with you and Fay, the infamous Grims." "So when I had this idea for the Fay autobiography," "I thought, of course." "Get this well-read, fringe iconoclast to ghost it." "That turned out to be more difficult than I anticipated." "Why?" "Because she was, as I should've expected, in a mental hospital." "Ah." "Olive, tell Simon here about Susan." "She presented her dissertation at Columbia University and" "Go ahead." "Well, Mr. Grim, it was, of course, a dissertation on your poetry." "I understand." "They refused outright to grant her diploma, and apparently, she had a nervous breakdown and stabbed her academic advisor." "So, she's violent." "Turns out, she's been in and out of psychiatric care since she was 13." "The charges were eventually dropped." "She's a loaded pistol, Simon, and I like that." "Comes across in her prose." "Biting, precise, and, well, yes, obsessive." "When will you see her next?" "Us?" "Oh, we never see her." "She transcribes her interviews with Fay each week, reworks them into chapters, and emails them to me." "We're about a third of the way through the book." "It's incendiary." "It'll be huge." "We're negotiating with the penitentiary to get a photo shoot done with Fay." "Esquire's on board, maybe GQ, Vanity Fair." "And the controversy is more than likely to generate a renewed interest in even your work, Mr. Grim." "Good thinking, Olive." "Simon, who are you with these days?" "Anyone?" "Fay, you have a visitor." "Please have a seat." "My name is Daniel." "Reverend Gardner." "Ned may have mentioned me to you." "Yes." "If I may say so, Fay, Ned is like a son to me." "Me too." "Fay, I believe Ned intends to do something terrible." "Oh, man." "He loves you very much." "Of course he does." "What do you mean by that?" "It means he'll kill the man he thinks is responsible for your incarceration." "Henry?" "Fool." "With an "e"?" "Could be." "The man you describe is here." "Can I see him?" "You say he's your father." "Yes." "He's been here for a little over a year." "He replied to an ad we placed asking for volunteers on the testing of certain drugs we were developing." "However, we were advised to cease experimenting with these particular medications, but by then, unfortunately, Henry had begun to exhibit side effects." "Like what?" "Well, there are certain physio-optical manifestations." "He sees things?" "Yes, which, of course, is not entirely unusual under the circumstances of the experiment, but anyway, he has no legal right to compensation in that regard." "However, there is the issue of his delusions, typically a symptom of mental disorder, which, honestly, we should've done due diligence in detecting before we agreed to have him participate." "This, you see, could expose the laboratory to legal action." "And what's his delusion?" "He believes, apparently with perfect sincerity, that he is, well, the devil." " Are you O.K.?" " It's all right." "Yes, sir." "Have you seen that young woman around, the young lady who hangs out down here?" "That would be your stalker, Mr. Grim." "Well, yeah, I guess so." "Susan." "She left yesterday, following the young man." "Young man?" "Mr. Rifle." "Where?" "To the airport." "In fact, Mr. Grim, you have another visitor." "As delusions go, it's a remarkable narrative." "To be perfectly accurate, he claims he's the devil's number-one assistant, or was." "He was born into the human realm in 1591 to run riot during the" "Can you throw him out?" "No, our lawyers have indicated, that would cast a bad light on our situation." "Let me talk to him." "I'll convince him to leave, on his own." "You don't look so good all of a sudden." "Oh, man." "Is this a problem?" "I'll be with you in a minute." "What are you doing here?" "I'm supposed to help you." "I didn't ask you to." "I'm sorry." "You don't look good." "What's wrong?" "I was up all night driving." "I haven't slept." "What happened to your hand?" "Look, my father's a patient in here." "I haven't seen him since I was a little kid." "O.K., I'll stay here." "Do what you have to do." "I'm O.K., right here." "Mr. Rifle, they're ready for us." "Don't be taken in." "He's a great tragic actor." "The drama never stops." "Just wait here." "Auf Wiedersehen, mademoiselles." "Dr. Ford, is it Thursday already?" "Henry, who were those women?" "Local pilgrims seeking wisdom." "Whoa, hold on." "You dismantled the alarm on the fire door again." "Look, I have to smoke someplace." "I know where you live, asshole." "Who's the winsome tart with the humorless youth over there?" "Henry, please." "Doctor, I can't work under these conditions." "My point exactly, why do you insist on remaining here?" "Thank you for this information, Reverend." "Of course." "Hopefully, we can reach him before he does anything irreparable." "It's him." "You sure?" "Yes." "And you'll talk to him?" "I'll come back tomorrow." "I'll only tell him to expect a visitor." "I'll leave the rest to you." "Come on." "They gave me the name of a motel down the road." "I'm sorry, we actually only have one single room available." "O.K., a double is O.K." "Yeah, we don't have any doubles either." "In fact, we just have the one room, a single." "Go on, get some sleep." "No, I have to-- I have to go." "You have to go pray?" "Yeah." "You'll have to tell me about that one day." "What's to tell?" "How it feels to have someone listening." "Defend me, O God, thy humble servant in all assaults of the enemy, that I, surely trusting in thy defense, may not fear the power of the adversary, that the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart" "be always acceptable in thy sight." "O Lord, my strength and my redeemer." "You want to come in and take a shower and brush your teeth?" "What?" "Yeah." "Sure." "You should've slept with me." "I wouldn't have done anything scandalous." "Promise." "Got the key?" "I've got your purse." ""How, may I ask, have I offended thee?"" "Why ask me that?" "It's just something written here." "A lovely phrase, I think." "It speaks to me." "Where's the young lady?" "What is all this?" "History, European mostly, Renaissance and some remarkably incriminating correspondence between the Vatican and the Spanish king from the early 16th century." "No one's ever thought to put it all in order." "Some local antiquarian died, and his moronic heirs donated it to this place." "Imagine." "You don't recognize me?" "No." "Should I?" "I'm your son." "Listen, kid, I have lots of offspring." "They're, you know, legion." "You gotta do better than that." "I'm Ned." "Fay's kid." "Yeah." "I suppose you've come to kill me." "I hear she's got a life sentence." "No parole, all that." "Why did she come looking for me?" "She thought your life was in danger, people were trying to kill you." "You should've talked her out of it." "She thought she was doing it for my sake." "For your sake?" "Yeah, like, I needed a father figure or something." "I'm a wanted criminal, a known felon, a murderer." "I mean, I'm not apologizing, but really, I know why." "I mean, really, why." "I hope I don't offend you, son, but your mother has very complicated, perverse, and deeply repressed sexual needs which, I, in my generosity, was able to intuit and satisfy." "She's never gotten over it." "Sue me." "You gonna drink that?" "You, as it turns out, are the fruit of that liberation." "A son of the devil." "You've been talking with Dr. Ford." "Listen, Ned--can I call you Ned?" "I've got these mercenary quacks by the cojones like nobody's business." "I mean, really, these guys are stinking of sin." "You?" "I am, in fact, suffering certain, definite side effects from this amalgamation of chemicals they were feeding me, the constituent elements of which are not even" "Did you see that?" "No." "The point is, this is not really a bad place." "What with the library here, and the park and the regular meals, all I've got to do is pretend I'm insane once or twice a week and tell them this cock-and-bull story about being the devil or whatever." "This cache of Renaissance lit has provided me with a treasure trove of dates and places and names." "These assholes are terrified." "Look, mom wants me to get you out of here and bring you home." "Home?" "How can we have a home when she's in prison the rest of her life?" "She wants me, you, and Uncle Simon to live nearby and go visit her all the time." "I'm sorry, I'll do anything for Fay, but I can't live with Simon." "That man is a disgrace." "A publisher has paid her to write her autobiography." "She wants your help." "Really?" "Yeah, she said so herself that Simon couldn't have written a thing if not for you." "Well, that's right." "Exactly, that ungrateful climber, and now with this blog and the sketch comedy, where will it end?" "It hurts to witness this." "Who does he think he is?" "Jerry Lewis?" "I've got--wait a minute." "Hold on." "Fuck." "I've got a passage in here somewhere about, you know, about Simon's passive- aggressive will to power, and here it is." "No, well, it's not about Simon, but it pertains." "Anyway, I need someone to help me get all this in order." "Can you type?" "No." "So are you coming?" "How will we get there?" "I am, as it were, a wanted man." "We'll drive." "Cross-country?" "Yeah." "Will the young lady be coming?" "Probably." "Is she your girlfriend?" "We're just friends." "I'm warning you, kid, exteriors notwithstanding, girls just sorta can't resist me." "That must be a major hassle." "I just don't want any unnecessary resentment, if you know what I mean." "This all you got?" "I'll need my own room." "Fine." "Come on." "Wait up." "I gotta get dressed." "Where are we?" "I thought you said the motel was just down the road?" "It's not far." "To be fair, Simon's third and fourth books were pretty good, and I hadn't seen him in years." "I read them in translation, of course, being in exile and everything." "It's clear he allowed himself to be influenced by the dynamics of his own notoriety, so to speak." "Can you hold that farther away?" "Don't you agree?" "About what?" "Simon's third and fourth books." " I don't read poetry." " What do you read?" "I read what really matters." "Oh, you mean like The New York Times?" "No." "No, shit, you're a God-fearing man?" "You got a problem with that?" "Find someplace to pull over." "What?" "Gotta pee." ""Coffee product."" "It's free." "The donuts were fresh this morning." "Hi." "Oh, this is quaint in a desperate sort of way." "Ah, we meet finally." "That's a fetching ensemble." " There's free coffee product." " Is there?" " And semi-fresh donuts." " Excellent." "Ned, are you going to introduce us, or did your mother teach you no manners at all?" " This is Susan." " Fascinating." "Come on." "We're leaving." "Soldier of God or not, that kid's got a hair across his ass." "Yes, he's very devout." "Maybe we should get some donuts for the road, huh?" "Can I hold that for you?" "Guard it with your life, young lady." "Is this the confessions?" "I see my reputation has preceded me." "I did my graduate dissertation on the work of Simon Grim." "Is that so?" "Yes, and because of that, I guess," "I was hired to ghost-write your wife's autobiography." "Oh, you're practically family." "That's not sugar." "That's Sweet'N Low." "The sugar's right there." "Well, that's good." "Fay can't spell to save her life." "Do you type?" "Very well, and I'm a great copy editor." "I can use some help with this." "I'd love to." "I mean, if that's O.K." "Good, it needs some" "Oh, did you see that?" "No." "You remind me of someone." "O.K., O.K.!" "He hates me, of course." "So embarrassingly oedipal." "Come on." "So, it's like this." "In the infinite amplitude of his love, God wants to create the largest number of best elements that can exist together in one cosmos." "O.K., that's a spin on Leibniz, but the important part is next." "Do I write that?" "No, hold on." "In an instantaneous calculation made in eternity," "God computes the best possible world and creates it." "O.K., fine." "This decision, as it were, by God, is uncontingent and eternal, rather than temporally or ontologically sequential." " Mmm..." " What?" "Do you think that's the right word?" "Temporally?" "No, ontologically." "What do you suggest?" "It's just that the nature of being is already the subject of the passage itself." "I think you should move on from the idea of temporality to something more materially concrete." "Spatiality, right." "Or" "We'll stop here for the night." "Anyway, the point, Susan, it is impossible for every perfect good to be compatible with every other perfect good." "The holiness of the mountain needs to be contrasted with the profanity of the used condom on the sidewalk so to speak." "Good image, should I write that?" "The good of free will must entail real choices for sin." "Something like that." "We'll continue tomorrow." "We need three single rooms please." "Uh-oh, I'm afraid we only have one single and a suite available." "A suite?" "Two rooms, a full kitchen, and a jacuzzi." "A class establishment, obviously." "I once participated in the most fantastic group sex in a hot tub outside in the mountains while it was snowing." "Where was that?" "Doesn't matter." "How about you?" "He'll have the suite." "We'll take the single." "I'll be in the bar." "What?" "You're flirting with my father." "Am I?" "He's fun." "Are you kidding me?" "He appreciates my ideas." "I like the way he thinks." "He's a degenerate." "Give him three minutes alone, and he'd rape you." "I don't think you know what you're talking about." "Yeah, well, maybe you're right, seeing as I don't know what you're capable of yourself." "What's that supposed to mean?" "Give me the bullet." "What bullet?" "That's all the cash I have." "Take it." "Get lost." "You're not traveling with us." "Is there a church around here?" "Lots." "Catholic, Methodist, Baptist, Seventh Day Adventist, a mosque." "It doesn't matter." "Catholic's right across the parking lot." "I was wondering how long you'd be able to stand that guy." "Get dressed, you have to get out of here." "What are you talking about?" "The young, Christian gentleman's paying for it all." "There's a jacuzzi upstairs." "The young Christian gentleman has every intention of killing you." "Here's his gun." "This is the bullet." "I didn't think he had it in him." "He does." "I've heard him say his prayers." "God's on his side, I suppose." "Apparently." "And so, you mean to say, Fay doesn't need my help with her memoir?" "Is that what he told you?" "That's low." "You got any money?" "Yeah, I stole his bank card." "He's got his pin code written on a Post-It note and everything." "Very generous of him." "I know, right?" "You'd think a religion would help teach people how the ungodly operate." "Let me get dressed." "Take all the good stuff from the mini bar." "What have I done?" "I might've killed a man but for this woman." "Have you sent her?" "Placed her in my path to keep me from sin?" "I'll set everything right." "I'll make amends." "Jesus, I don't want to kill anyone." "Wow." "Lots?" "He's loaded, but we can only withdraw $400 a day." "I really can't believe that sanctimonious little church mouse is my son." "Forget about it." "Where are we going anyway?" "I mean, New York, right?" "All points on the globe are equally dismal for me, Susan." "Unwanted, unappreciated, despised even by my own son." "We can make it in maybe 3 or 4 days, depending on when Ned unplugs our credit line." "I called ahead and reserved a motel room just this side of Spokane." "Do they have a restaurant, you think?" "No, but the rooms have kitchens." "Ned." "Simon, I almost did a real bad thing." "Your mother thought you might." "Mom?" "How?" "She received a visit from the Reverend Gardner." "Oh, man." "Have you found Henry?" "Yes." "Is he with you now?" "No, I lost him." "He disappeared again." "He ran off with some woman I was traveling with." "Susan?" "Yeah." "Ned, how much do you know about your dad's early years?" "More than I want to." "Well, he spent some time in prison." "Right, that much I got." "Do you know why he was in prison?" "Mom said he hadn't paid his taxes or something." "No, Henry was in jail for 7 years because he was caught in flagrante delicto with, as he once told me in confidence, an ugly and mean-spirited 13-year-old girl named Susan." "You think this is that Susan?" "I'm certain of it." "I've read her dissertation." "It's a long, wild, passionate encomium to Henry." "A what?" "And she's ghost-writing your mom's autobiography." "No way!" "That's her?" "She's obsessed with Henry." "Oh, damn it." "Then let them be." "They're both nuts anyway." "He's an idiot." "She's a floozie." "They both read too much." "They're made for each other." "I'm coming home." "But she might do him harm." "You think?" "She's been in and out of psychiatric hospitals her whole life, and she stabbed a man in college when they refused to let her graduate." "What was your impression?" "She's armed." "Is she?" "Ned, you've got to find them." "I know." "Susan's brilliant, and she's a good person, but she's totally fucked up." "I know." "We could probably say the same thing about your dad, but I suspect you don't want to hear that right now." "You're right, Uncle Simon." "I don't want to hear that right now." "Listen, I'll call you tomorrow." "Stateside Mutual Customer Service, how can I help you?" "Yeah, my bank card has been stolen." "Would you like me to cancel the card?" "Yes, and wait" "Excuse me?" "Will you be able to tell me where the card was last used?" "Of course, the exact time and location." "O.K., don't cancel the card just yet." "Really?" "Are you sure?" "I'll call back in a few hours." "A lot of damage can occur in a few hours, sir." "I know." "We should get some booze." "Can you get me some rum, please?" "There's a liquor store across the parking lot." "Rum, huh?" "And whatever you're drinking." "I'll get something to cook." "What do you smoke?" "Whatever." "Fairport Lights are O.K." "An embarrassment of riches!" "We'll need a knife." "All set?" "Anything else?" "Ice cubes." "I'll get napkins." "Oh, and lemonade." "Susan?" "Rum, lemonade, and Fairport Lights." "These were your preferred poisons at 13." "Why didn't you come back for me?" "What?" "I waited." "They put me in jail for 7 years." "But I was 20 by the time you got out." "I wasn't allowed into the state of Ohio without written permission from some office of the governor, and only then if" "I could prove I had gainful employment." "Look, Susan, I paid dearly for our little afternoon of bliss." "I really did think my parents were away for the weekend." "I had no idea they would come back." "Aw, Susan." "Susan, what my life might've been if I'd never met you." "I'm sorry." "Please don't apologize." "What's done is done and I shouldn't have done it." "I wanted you to." "You were 13." "You didn't know what you wanted." "I did." "I did know what I wanted." "Susan, it's like I've been trying to get at." "There is sin in this world." "I haven't worked it out perfectly yet, but if there is such a thing as sin, it comes down to this." "Taking advantage of innocence." "I was not innocent." "How dare you say that." "You were the only one I wanted." "Yes, the only one stupid enough to succumb to the advances of an overweight and perspiring adolescent with bad teeth." "What happened?" "I grew up." "Well, you've got a nice ass." "I had braces until I was 26." "You could use a few pounds, though." "I was anorexic for a while." "No." "I'm O.K. now, but it wasn't so bad, because I was in a hospital anyways." "What kind of hospital?" "The kind for crazy people." " Oh, no." " No, it wasn't like that." "They thought I was crazy because I was in love with you." "Well, they were right." "I was the janitor at your junior high school." "You turned me on to Lautréamont." "Did I?" "And Verlaine, Rimbaud." "Really?" "All the French symbolists." "Of course, I outgrew them, but they were formative." "Yeah, well, but still, there are limits." "I mean, there are laws even." "Hi." "It's me again-- Edward Rifle." "Oh, yes, Mr. Rifle." "The card was used near Spokane 45 minutes ago at a supermarket on Route 47." "That was the best day of my life." "It was astonishing." "I mean, at least, until your father was standing there and the police arrived." "I remember every moment of it." "I put myself to sleep at night for years replaying it again, and again." "Every touch." "Each thrust." "The taste of your dirty fingers in my mouth." "How I clutched the bedspread and drooled." "And now we can be together, you and me finally, without any interference." "Is that what you want?" "More than anything in the world." "I'm not an easy man to live with, Susan." "I'll just follow you, yours whenever you want me." "You're incorrigible." "Thank you." "Outrageous!" "You people are disgusting!" "Why, a man your age ought to know better than to" "Come on!" "Come on!" "It's not our business." "Pervert!" "And so you stabbed the guy?" "All semester long he's encouraging me to revise and to annotate and insisting we meet after class to discuss and, well, of course, fuck, and then he totally goes along with the other department heads and dismisses" "the dissertation as not worthy of consideration." "What's this for?" "The tomatoes." " You still hungry?" " Not really." "Give me your glass." "These self-satisfied pundits who, themselves received master's degrees for writing college papers on post-Marxist third generation feminist apocrypha or whatever, now have these high-paid tenured positions lock-step with college policy, pushing only commercially sustainable mass-cultural phenomena, proudly detailing the most" "profitably, impermanent trends as critically relevant societal indicators for the next really cool Facebook ad, et cetera." "I mean, am I repeating myself?" "God, I love it when you get all fired up and indignant like this." "Fuck me." "Hello, ladies." "Welcome to the first meeting of the Penitentiary Book Club." "Since we're all going to be here for, well, like, the rest of our lives, I figured we should start out with some really big books like these." ""Don Quixote" by Cervantes, 941 pages." ""War and Peace," Tolstoy, 1,443 pages." ""Les Misérables"" "They made a musical out of this one--by Victor Hugo, 1,232 pages." "Older man, young woman." "Yeah, high heels, that's right." "Dad's home!" "Good morning." "You ought to be ashamed of yourself." "Are you, by any chance, headed toward the city of Spokane?" "Well, yeah, sort of." "I'd appreciate a lift, if you'd be so kind." "Absolutely not!" "Amelia, please." "Just drop me anywhere along the road in that direction." "Thanks." "Look, young man, we don't want any trouble around here." "I'm just looking for my friends." "Henry!" "?" "I can't do this to her again." "I'll get off here." "There's nothing here for miles." "Yeah, but I gotta take a shit." "Dear God almighty." "The filth that comes out of his mouth." "Let him go." "Let him go!" "Let him go." "I don't want to cause any trouble." "I'm just going to wait here in the car till my friends wake up." "O.K.?" "Dad." "Save her." "No, please." "Run." "No."