Nebraska Page #5

Can I have a beer, too, please?

You betcha.

I'm going to drink with my dad.

I didn't tell you that

Noel and I broke up.

Who?

Noel.

The girl I've been living with

for the past two years.

She moved out.

We broke up.

Oh.

Maybe I should have

asked her to get married. I don't know.

I just...

I just never felt sure,

you know what I mean?

How are you supposed to know

when you're sure?

Were you sure?

Huh?

How did you and Mom

end up getting married?

Oh, she wanted to.

And you didn't?

I figured, what the hell.

Were you ever sorry

you married her?

All the time.

Could have been worse.

You must have been in love.

At least, at first.

Never came up.

Did you ever talk

about having kids?

How many you wanted

and stuff like that?

Nope.

Then why did you have us?

Because I like to screw.

And your mother is a Catholic.

So, you figure it out.

So, you and Mom never

actually talked about

whether you wanted kids or not?

I figured if we kept on screwing,

we would end up with a couple of you.

Did you ever think

about leaving her?

Oh, I would just end up

with somebody else

who would give me sh*t all the time.

Yeah, you would.

Yeah.

I'd say she's put up

with your drinking all these years.

I don't drink that much.

- You're an alcoholic.

- Bullshit.

Oh, what do you mean, "bullshit"?

I knew you had a problem

when I was eight.

I used to watch you hide

your booze in the garage.

Yeah, you stole it, too.

I figured it was you.

You cost me a lot of money.

Yeah, I poured it out

because I was sick

of seeing you drunk all the time.

I figured it was you.

You would never catch your brother

sneaking around like that.

I served my country.

I Pay my taxes.

And I got a right to do

whatever the goddamn hell I want.

So, I guess you do drink.

- A little bit.

- A lot.

All right.

So, I drink a lot!

God damn it, so what?

You do what you want to do, and so do I.

You would drink, too, if you were

married to your mother.

And it ain't your job

to tell me what to do,

you little cocksucker.

Dad.

Dad.

Dad!

What?

Should I take you back

to Ray and Martha's?

I don't know.

Say, don't you

owe me a couple of bucks?

Christ Almighty, it's Woody Grant.

I don't believe it!

How the hell are you, Woody?

God, I never thought

I'd see you back in Hawthorne.

Fellas, say hello to my

old friend Woody.

Hello, Woody.

Yeah!

Move over. Move over.

Sit down, sit down.

I don't believe this.

Jesus Christ, Woody.

So, how you been?

- Pretty good.

- Yeah?

Me, too. I can't complain.

Boy, it's been a long time, Woody.

A long time.

Hi, I'm David, Woody's son.

Oh. Ed Pegram.

Ed Pegram?

Davey? Oh, no sh*t.

How you doing, guy?

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