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Dataset card Data Studio Files
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Uhhuh. One of those cozy bed and breakfast places, probably.
Yeah, that's right.
Except that there's no bed, is there? And no breakfast either.
The material world is an illusion. It doesn't matter if they're there or not. The world is in my head.
But your body is in the world, isn't it? If someone offered you a place to stay, you wouldn't necessarily refuse, would you?
People don't do that kind of thing. Not in New York.
I'm not "people." I'm just me. And I do whatever I goddamn want to do. Got it?
Thanks, but I'll manage.
In case you're wondering, I like women, not little boys. And I'm not offering you a longterm lease just a place to crash for a couple of nights.
I can take care of myself. Don't worry.
Suit yourself. But if you change your mind, here's the address.
I didn't expect to see you again.
Same here. But I had a long talk with my accountant this afternoon. You know, to see how a move like this would affect my tax picture, and he said it would be okay.
That's it. Just the two rooms.
This is the first house I've been in without a TV.
I used to have one, but it broke a couple of years ago and I never got around to replacing it. I'd just as soon not have one anyway. I hate those damn things.
But then you don't get to watch the ball games. You told me you were a Mets fan.
I listen on the radio. I can see the games just fine that way. The world is in your head, remember?
Nice drawing. Did you do that?
My father did. Believe it or not, that little baby is me.
Yeah, I can believe it.
It's strange, though, isn't it? Looking at yourself before you knew who you were.
Is your father an artist?
No, he was a schoolteacher. But he liked to dabble.
He's dead?
Twelve, thirteen years ago. Actually, he died with his sketch pad open on his lap. Up in the Berkshires one weekend, drawing a picture of Mount Greylock.
Drawing's a good thing.
Is that what you do? Draw pictures?
Yeah, sometimes. I like to dabble, too.
Time to wake up. Hey, kid, time to wake up. Rashid! Up and out. I have to work in here. The slumber party is over.
What time is it?
Eightthirty.
Eightthirty?
You'll find juice and eggs and milk in the refrigerator. Cereal in the cupboard. Coffee on the stove. Take whatever you want. But it's time for me to get started in here.
Jesus, do you make a lot of noise. Can't you see I'm trying to work?
I'm sorry. They just... they just slipped out of my hands.
A little less clumsiness around here would be nice, don't you think?
I'm a teenager. All teenagers are clumsy. It's because we're still growing. We don't know where our bodies end and the world begins.
The world is going to end pretty soon if you don't learn fast. Look, why not make yourself useful? I'm just about out of smokes. Go around the corner to the Brooklyn Cigar Company and buy me two tins of Schimmelpenninck Medias.
Twenty dollars is a lot of money. Are you sure you can trust me with it? I mean, aren't you afraid I might steal it?
If you want to steal it, that's your business. At least I won't have you around here making noise. It might be worth it.
I'm sorry. I'm really sorry... I was trying to reach for one of the books up there ... And then, I don't know, the sky fell on top of me.
It just won't do, will it? I go two and a half years without being able to write a word, and then, when I finally get started on something, when it looks as though I might actually be coming to life again, you show up and start breaking everything in my house. It just won't do, will it?
I didn't ask to come here. You invited me, remember? If you want me to leave, all you have to do is say so.
How long have you been here?
Three nights.
And how long did I tell you you could stay?
Two or three nights.
It sounds like our time is up, doesn't it?
I'm sorry I messed up. You've been very kind to me ... But all good things have to come to an end, right?
No hard feelings, okay? It's a small place, and I can't get my work done with you around.
You don't have to apologize. The coast is probably clear now anyway.
Are you going to be all right?
Absolutely. The world is my oyster. Whatever that means.
Do you need some money? Some extra clothes?
Not a penny, not a stitch. I'm cool, man.
Take good care of yourself, okay?
You too. And make sure the light is green before you cross the street. Oh, by the way, I liked your book. I think you're a hell of a good writer.
Hey, it's you.
I wanted to give you this as a token of my appreciation.
Appreciation for what?
I don't know. For helping me out.
Where did you get that thing?
I bought it. Twentynine ninetyfive on sale at Goldbaum's TV and Radio. Well, that just about takes care of it, I guess. You'll be able to watch the ball games. You know, as a little break from your work.
Where the hell do you think you're going?
Business appointment. I'm seeing my broker at three o'clock.
Cut it out, will you? Just cut it out and come back here.
I don't have much time.
Close the door. Sit down in that chair. Now listen carefully. Your Aunt Em came here a couple of days ago. She was sick with worry, out of her mind. We had an interesting talk about you, Thomas. Do you understand what I'm saying? Your aunt thinks you're in trouble and so do I. Tell me about it, kid. I want to hear all about it right now.
You don't really want to know.
I don't, huh? And what makes you such an authority on what I want or don't want?
Okay, okay. It's all so stupid. There's this guy, see. Charles Clemm. The Creeper, that's what people call him. The kind of guy you don't want to cross paths with.
And?
I crossed paths with him. That's why I'm trying to stay clear of my neighborhood. To make sure I don't run into him again.
So that's the something you weren't supposed to see, huh?
I just happened to be walking by... All of a sudden, the Creeper and this other guy come running out of this checkcashing place with masks on their faces and guns in their hands... They just about ran smack into me. The Creeper recognized me, and I knew he knew I recognized him... If the guy from the checkcashing place hadn't rushed out then screaming bloody murder, he would have shot me. I'm telling you, the Creeper would have shot me right there on the sidewalk. But the noise distracted him, and when he turned around to see what was happening, I took off... One more second, and I would have been dead.
Why don't you go to the police?
You're joking, right? I mean, that's your way of trying to be funny, right?
If they put this Creeper in jail, then you'd be safe.
The man has friends. And they're not likely to forgive me if I testify against him.
What makes you think you'll be any safer around here? It's only about a mile away from where you live.
It might not be far, but it's another galaxy. Black is black and white is white, and never the twain shall meet.
It looks like they've met in this apartment.
That's because we don't belong anywhere. You don't fit into your world, and I don't fit into mine. We're the outcasts of the universe.
Maybe. Or maybe it's the other people who don't belong.
Let's not get too idealistic.
Fair enough. We wouldn't want to get carried away, would we? Now call your aunt Em and let her know you're alive.
Ah, coffee. Smells good.
One sip of this stuff and your eyes will blast open.
Thanks.
What time did you get to bed last night?
I don't know. Two or three. It was pretty late.
You work too hard, you know that?
Once a story gets hold of you, it's hard to let go. Besides, I'm making up for lost time.
Just so you don't overdo it. You don't want to die of sleep deprivation before you finish.
If you don't sleep, you don't dream. If you don't dream, you don't have nightmares.
That's logical. And if you don't sleep, you don't need a bed. Saves you money, too. So what's this story you're working on, anyway?
If I tell you, I might not be able to finish it.
Come on, just a little hint.
Okay, just a little hint. I can't tell you the story, but I'll tell you what gave me the idea for it.