Arizona Dream Page #4

because he believed in miracles.

And even though he lived inside

of life and sold Cadillacs...

...he always looked like a 10-year-old

boy whose sleeves were too long.

When I was 10,

Leo gave me this great movie camera.

My mother always hoped

I'd become the next Milton Berle.

But dreams about houses and cars and fresh-cut

lawns aren't dreams when they become real.

And so now, I understood what my mother

meant by "Good morning, Columbus."

And even if my mother didn't like

what I was doing with my life...

...I think she'd understand me.

When I was 11, I got this really weird

earache that wouldn't go away.

I went to about a hundred doctors,

but none of them could help me.

So what Leo did was,

he went into Mexico...

...and brought back this fat lady witch doctor who

did some mumbo jumbo and fixed me right up.

I was grateful, but somehow I thought

I might've been better off mute.

All in all,

I had a very happy childhood.

My father was a border guard, he spent most of

his life trying to keep people from crossing lines.

Every night for 15 years, he'd go out and smooth

down the road between Mexico and Arizona...

...and every morning he'd be out there

looking for footprints in the dirt.

But my father always said that work

was like a hat you put on your head.

And even if you didn't have pants, you didn't have

to walk down the street ashamed of your ass.

'Cause you had a hat.

One of the other things

I was sure about my life was:..

...The moment my parents died,

my childhood was gone forever.

Leo could never shake the guilt

of my parents' death 6 years ago.

Leo was driving the car that night.

It got so bad that he even felt guilty

if he used too much shaving cream.

Four days after the funeral,

I caught a train to New York City.

And if somebody was to ask me why I don't get up

right now and catch the next train back to New York...

...it's because you can't say no

to your childhood hero.

I decided to be his best man,

one thing I was sure of:..

No matter how much I loved

the smell of cheap cologne...

...I was never gonna become my uncle,

I was never gonna sell Cadillacs.

Axel...

...if I died tomorrow,

where would you be?

You're not gonna die tomorrow, Leo.

Who knows when I'll die?

Your mother and father didn't know

when they were gonna die.

That was an accident.

No, it was stupidity. I shouldn't

have been behind that wheel.

Please, no guilt. Please.

Please.

Look...

...I'm not going to allow you to become

a bum on the streets of New York.

I want you to stay here with me.

Please. Try it for one week.

If you don't like it,

then you go home.

Okay?

Okay.

- Axel, make "busy". Very, very busy.

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