A Love Song for Bobby Long Page #6

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Maybe you'd rather I earn money

bringing friends home.

Didn't Lorraine have to do that for a while?

Most junkies do.

God damn it!

Have you no respect for the dead?

That was your mother, Pursey.

Besides...

we all know

that you ain't no angel of purity...

are you, little Purslane?

Did you ever have two men at once?

Have you?

That would buy a lot of cigarettes

in our house. It would, wouldn't it?

F*** you!

You're supposed to be the senior male?

The grownup.

I'm just a girl. Don't you get that?

I'm so sick of your high and mighty attitude

about poor, dead Lorraine.

You wanna teach me about respect?

Who respects you?

The wife who's smart enough to get rid

of you, or the kids you never f***ing see?

What did I tell you about her?

Oh, God!

You know, I know what y'all think of me.

- School just seemed like a waste of time.

- It's not.

I know that.

I'm not some dumb kid, you know.

I wanna be normal. It's just not my life.

What is your life? What do you want?

If I could do anything?

Promise you won't laugh?

I don't know if I can promise.

Well, I thought about maybe working

in a hospital or something...

like being an x-ray technician

or something like that.

Okay.

- Can I ask why?

- I don't know.

I like the way bones look on a light box.

They're like portraits, but on the inside.

I know it does sound totally stupid.

No, it's not stupid.

Hello?

Hello? Is anyone there?

- Sorry.

- It's all right.

I keep forgetting

there's a woman in the house.

Any sign of him?

Listen, Pursey, I need to tell you something.

What, you worried about him?

What are you doing today?

I thought I'd go down to the Quarter...

look for a job. I haven't tried there yet.

Want someone to show you around?

- Give us a call next week.

- All right, thanks.

Well?

Maybe, but only part-time.

It's not like you have rent.

You don't have to work full-time.

I need to get away

from Bobby full-time. Overtime.

Maybe I could help you get started

on those bone portraits.

You can get your GED, you know.

Sure I can. Then maybe I can go to Harvard.

Maybe.

You know, you eat like sh*t?

You drink too much.

Okay.

Would you let me read your book sometime?

- I don't think so.

- Why not?

- Most of it ends up in the trash.

- How long you been writing it?

Too long, and not long enough.

- Did you graduate from college?

- Yes, ma'am, I did.

With the privilege of becoming

Bobby Long's teaching assistant.

Why did y'all leave that school?

It's complicated. So many reasons.

Tell me one.

A lot happened real fast...

and New Orleans, all this...

it sort of seemed romantic at the time.

Is it?

Is it romantic?

It has its moments.

Would you really help me get my GED?

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