Mean Dreams Page #2

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hidin' daddy?

I ain't hidin',

I'm waitin'.

It's my fault she's late sir,

i took us down--

head on home.

It's my time with

my daughter now.

I guess I'll

come by tomorrow, probably--

you got sh*t

in your ears boy?

Casey:

Come on, Blaze.

Wanted to celebrate

with my baby girl tonight.

I made

spaghetti bolognese.

Your favorite.

I'm not hungry.

Good thing

i tossed it then.

I wouldn't get too

attached to that boy.

Looks like we're

getting out of this sh*t hole

sooner than

i thought.

That's too bad.

Cause I was

starting to like it here.

Stop.

Come down.

You look like her.

You talk like her.

Look at me.

Don't be like her.

You're my blood.

You're a caraway.

It's you

and me Casey.

Say it.

It's you and me.

Wait.

I said wait,

goddamnit!

Daddy, stop it!

Daddy,

stop it please!

Stop!

Daddy stop!

Daddy please stop it,

that's enough now!

That's enough now!

Stop it! Stop!

It's you

and me, dad!

It's you and me!

Dad,

please stop it!

Next time I see you 'round my

house, 'round my daughter,

I'll hold you

under for good.

Casey,

get in the house!

I said,

get in the house!

Casey:
Jonas?

Jonas, you there?

Yeah I'm here.

You okay?

Yeah.

Yeah, I'm fine.

You?

I'm so sorry.

You didn't

do nothin'.

You shouldn't

be there with him.

It ain't right.

No Jonas.

You don't

understand, my dad--

I ain't afraid of him.

You should be.

Didn't see you in

there today, mr.Ford.

Quite a sermon

you missed.

I need to talk to you 'bout

one of your officers, sir.

Un-huh.

Mr. caraway.

Well go on then.

He's no good sir.

Gonna need

more than that.

No good, how?

It's how

he treats his daughter.

I understand you two have become

pretty close, am I correct?

Yes sir.

And this complaint of yours;

Wouldn't have anything to do

with a potential complaint

of his about you spending

all day and night

with her, would it?

No.

But he has made

such an objection?

I saw

him beat her.

And he went on afterward

to drown me half to death.

Well that doesn't

sound quite right.

But what puzzles

me about this, you see,

is that kids are

a product of their parents.

Now Casey's bout the

sweetest, happiest little girl

these old eyes

ever seen.

And considerin' her momma ain't

been around for some time,

I credit

sergeant caraway

with the type of young

lady she's become.

Now, regardin' all this

hitting and drowning,

I'll surely look into it,

cause that's my job,

but I will tell you this:

You ain't Casey's family.

You might

share spit and secrets,

but the two of you's

don't share blood.

And the only business

you have with her,

is what her

father says so.

You go on now.

Well, hell boy.

I was on

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