11بخش

Sammy.

He said “Sammy”. How does he know about Sammy?

Oh, fuck.

What have I done?

Mister, I need help. There’s a guy in here, he’s hurt bad.

We gotta get him to a doctor. All right.

I don’t know what happened. I’ve got this memory thing.

Do I know you? No. Don’t worry. I’m a cop.

Is he still breathing? I don’t know. Maybe.

What the hell were you guys doing down here?

I don’t remember. I have this condition.

I hope it’s not as serious as his, ‘cause this guy’s dead.

Ow; Lenny! That shit kills!

So you remember me now, huh? You are a fuckin’ cop.

Yeah. And I’m the guy that helped you find him.

Get up. Get up.

Lenny, you got the wrong idea.

Who is that? He knew me.

Of course he did. He raped your wife. He fucked up your brain.

Bullshit. He’s not the guy.

His name is James F Grants. John G. Check your tattoos.

What was he bringing the 200 grand for? What?

What was it for? A load ofamphetamines I told him I had.

Is this a drug deal? No. Yeah, that and your thing.

Look, Leonard, Jimmy’s your guy. I just figured we’d make a few dollars on the side.

How did he know me? The Discount Inn. He dealt out of there.

The guy at the front desk let him know if anybody came snooping around.

He called Jimmy the minute he saw you taking a picture ofthe dump.

You’re fucking using me. No! You get half!

He knew about Sammy! Why would I tell him about fuckin’ Sammy?

You tell everybody about Sammy, everybody who’ll listen.

“Remember Sammy Jankis” “Remember Sammy Jankis?”

Great story. Gets better every time you tell it.

So you lie to yourself to be happy.

There’s nothing wrong with that. We all do it.

Who cares if there’s a few little details you’d rather not remember?

What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t know.

Your wife surviving the assault.

Her not believing your condition.

The torment and pain and anguish tearing her up inside.

The insulin.

That’s Sammy, not me. I told you about Sammy.

Yeah, right. Like you tell yourselfover and over again.

Conditioning yourself to remember.

Learning through repetition. Sammy let his wife kill herself.

Sammy ended up in an institution. Sammy was a con man, a faker.

I never said that Sammy was faking.

You exposed him for what he was, a fraud.

But I was wrong. That’s the whole point.

See, Sammy’s wife came to me. Sammy didn’t have a wife.

It was your wife who had diabetes.

My wife wasn’t diabetic.

You sure?

Ouch. Cut it out. She wasn’t diabetic.

You think I don’t know my own wife? What the fuck is wrong with you?

I guess I can only make you remember the things you wanna be true.

Like old Jimmy down there. He’s not the right guy.

He was to you.

Come on. You got your revenge. Enjoy it while you still remember.

What difference does it make whether he was your guy or not?

It makes all the difference. Why? You’re never gonna know.

Yes, I will. No, you won’t.

I will; Somehow I’ll know.

You won’t remember! When it’s done, I will know. It’ll be different.

I thought so too. In fact, I was sure of it, but you didn’t!

That’s right. The real John G.

I helped you find him over a year ago. He’s already dead.

Don’t lie to me anymore. Look, Lenny.

I was the cop assigned to your wife’s case. I believed you.

I thought you deserved a chance for revenge.

I’m the one that helped you find the other guy in your bathroom that night…

the guy that cracked your skull and fucked your wife.

We found him. You killed him.

But you didn’t remember. So I helped you start looking again…

Looking for the guy you already killed.

Yeah? So who was he?

Just some guy. Does it even matter who?

No reason, Lenny; No conspiracy. Just bad fucking luck.

Couple of junkies too strung out to realize your wife didn’t live alone.

But when you killed him, I was so convinced that you’d remember.

But it didn’t stick.

Like nothing ever sticks. Like this won’t stick.

I took that picture… just when you did it.

Look how happy you are.

I wanted to see that face again.

Gee, thanks. Fuck you.

I gave you a reason to live, and you were more than happy to help.

You don’t want the truth. You make up your own truth.

Like your police file.

It was complete when I gave it to you. Who took out the 12 pages?

You, probably. No, it wasn’t me. See, it was you.

Why would I do that? To create a puzzle you could never solve.

You know how many towns?

How many John G’s or James G’s?

Shit, Lenny; I’m a fucking John G.

Your name is Teddy. My mother calls me Teddy.

My name’s John Edward Gammell.

Cheer up.

There’s plenty of John G’s for us to find.

All you do is moan.

I’m the one that has to live with what you’ve done.

I’m the one that put it all together.

You wander around, you’re playing detective. You’re living a dream, kid.

A dead wife to pine for. A sense of purpose to your life.

A romantic quest that you wouldn’t end even if I wasn’t in the picture.

I should kill you. Quit it. Lenny, come on.

You’re not a killer. That’s why you’re so good at it.

What are you doing? You know what time it is?

It’s beer o’clock. I’m buying.

Fuck.

I’m not a killer.

I’m just someone who wanted to make things right.

Can I just let myself forget what you’ve told me?