Stand by Me

I deliver perfection...|and don't brag about it! :D

I was 12 going on 13|the first time I saw a dead human being.

It happened in the summer of 1959...

... a long time ago...

... but only if you measure it|in terms of years.

I was living in a small town in Oregon|called Castle Rock.

There were only 1,281 people,|but to me it was the whole world.

It's the Bossman Bob Cormier.|It's a beautiful Friday morning in Portland.

It's 90 KLAM degrees and getting hotter.

Up the ladder with another platter.|It's Bobby Day with "Rockin' Robin"...

... it's boss.

How do you know a Frenchman's been|in your backyard?

I'm French, okay.

Your garbage cans are empty|and your dog's pregnant.

Didn't I just say I was French?

- I knock.|- Shit.

Twenty-nine.

Twenty-two.

Piss up a rope.

Gordie's out, OI' Gordie just bit the bag|and stepped out the door.

Come on, man, deal.

Teddy Duchamp was the craziest guy|we hung around with.

He didn't have much of a chance in life.

His dad was given to fits of rage.

One time he held Teddy's ear to a stove|and almost burned it off.

I knock.

You four-eyed pile of shit.

The "pile of shit" has 1,000 eyes.

What?

What's so funny?|I got thirty, what have you got?

Sixteen.

Go ahead, keep laughing.

You're down to your ride, pal.

Chris Chambers was the leader of our gang|and my best friend.

He came from a bad family|and everyone just knew he'd turn out bad.

Including Chris.

That's not the secret knock.

I forgot the secret knock. Let me in.

Vern.

Come on, you guys, open up.

Man, you guys are not going|to believe this. This is so boss.

Wait till you hear this.

You won't believe it. It's unbelievable.

Let me catch my breath. I ran all the way|from my house.

"I ran all the way home"

Come on. Listen to me, this is boss.

"Just to say I'm sorry"

Okay, forget it.|I don't have to tell you nothin'.

Hold on, you guys. Hold on.|What is it, man?

Great, you won't believe this, sincerely.

"I ran all the way home"

Screw you guys. Forget it.

What is it?

Can you camp out tonight?

I mean, if you tell your folks|we're gonna tent out in my backfield?

I think so.

Except my dad's kind of on a mean streak.|He's been drinking a lot lately.

You got to. Sincerely,|you won't believe this. Can you, Gordie?

Yeah, probably.

So what are you pissing and moaning|about Vern-O?

- I knock.|- What?

You liar! You ain't got no pat hand.

You didn't deal yourself no pat hand.

Make your draw, shitheap.

You guys want to go see a dead body?

I was under the porch digging, you know?

We all understood|what Vern meant right away.

At the beginning of the school year|he had buried a jar of pennies...

... underneath his house.

He drew a treasure map|so he could find them again.

A week later his mom cleaned out|his room and threw away the map.

Vern had been trying to find those pennies|for nine months...

... nine months, man.

You didn't know whether laugh or cry.

Jesus, Billy, we gotta do something.

Why? Who cares?

- We saw him.|- So?

It's nothin' to us. The kid's dead|so it's nothin' to him, neither.

And who gives a shit if they ever find him?|I don't.

It's that kid they're talking about|on the radio.

Brocker or Brower or Flowers,|whatever his name is.

The train must have hit him.

Big fucking deal.

We had all followed|the Ray Brower story closely...

... since he was a kid our age.

Three days before, he left to pick|blueberries and nobody'd seen him since.

I think we should tell the cops.

You don't go squawking to the cops|after you boosted a car.

They'll want to know how we got way out|on Back Harlow Road.

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