The dead mother

Synopsis: Yvon, 50 years old, gets out of jail. He has a special permission to attend his mother's funeral. During the day, he gets together with his family, his dead mother, a debt to pay and lots of memories to burn.
Year:
2012
15 min
20 Views


The Dead Mother

There's no money.

Come in.

Hello.

-Good morning.

-Hello, Blanca.

l won't keep you.

The director doesn't call me

every day.

There's no hurry.

Sit down.

-What did you want?

-How are you getting on?

-You must miss your family.

-Not at all.

l'm of more use here.

No one is indispensable.

-ls it about yesterday's meeting?

-What?

l had to go out three times

in one hour, but...

No, l know about

your bladder problem.

lf l'm nervous, it's worse.

Awful.

No, this is something less official.

Leire?

ls it that obvious?

Yes... No!

-How do you think she is?

-Apart from the diabetes?

Of course.

To be quite honest...

just the same.

She's so strange.

You should really ask

Begona and Ana.

l'd rather ask you.

l've only been here

for two months.

They're her tutors.

l'm just an assistant.

But she's different with you.

She doesn't look at you the same.

You should ask them anyway.

l didn't mean to put you

on the spot. l'm sorry.

And l'd rather you didn't.

l'm sorry.

Do you think she could be adopted?

She has Mrs. Millas.

But who'd adopt someone so old,

who doesn't even speak?

l would.

You think she's better

with that old woman?

lsmael?

-What's wrong?

-Wrong? ls something wrong?

l waited yesterday,

but you didn't come to bed.

-You shouldn't have waited.

-And today?

And today? And tomorrow?

l've got my own room, remember?

You're going out?

Fine, that's right.

l'm going out, see?

-Please, stay. We have to talk.

-Talk?

What for?

Since when do we have to talk?

lf you go out, l'll kill you!

l'll kill you!

Don't go, you son of a b*tch!

Please.

Swear again,

and l'll thump you.

-Why do you stay with me? Why?

-l don't know. Why?

Sleep with me today

or l'll kill myself!

-l will, you bastard!

-Stop swearing!

-Son of a b*tch!

-Shut up!

l can't stand that talk.

Why are you with me?

Get out of my way!

My love.

Sorry, we're closed.

There's no action until 9.00.

See what happens when you leave

the f***ing door open.

lt stinks here.

lt stinks?

Just close the f***ing door.

What the hell's going on now?

ls there something to f***ing see?

Must you swear all the time?

What?

What are you doing?

-l went to your room...

-l don't know.

-lnsomnia.

-lnsomnia?

You've never had that.

l was taking a sh*t

and l forgot to lift the cover.

You see?

That's it!

Here.

Drop by once a week

and check the f***ing fridge.

l'll pay you the rest

when l get back.

You understand, right?

l didn't build this up

by trusting people.

That's good.

l like guys with tight mouths.

And women with big pussies,

just like you do, l guess.

For Crissake,

the f***ing door is open again!

Give me a beer and l'm off.

Well, f*** me. The guy goes,

and opens it in my f***ing face.

Would you quit swearing?

A beer, you said?

F*** the beer!

l shut the door so l don't

get screwed like yesterday,

and you just go and open it again?

The bastard isn't even listening!

Listen, f***er!

l want the door shut and l mean

shut tighter than a trucker's ass!

-Don't shut it.

-What?

Why not clean up outside

and you can watch the girls?

Quit dicking me around.

Shut the f***ing door!

What are you doing?

Listen, stop f***ing around,

and get me a beer.

What?

What the hell is it now?

Do l have to serve myself

in my own f***ing bar?

Get me the f***ing beer!

For Crissake!

Well then?

Son of a b*tch,

what are you doing?

Carlos, you're crazy!

That's the problem.

l'm not crazy.

Your beer...

My name isn't Carlos.

My name is lsmael...

Lopez...

de Matauko.

l'll have to be careful

for a while.

l should've done it the first day.

How could you?

You're crazy.

We've hardly any money.

You should've seen him.

''Carlos, you're crazy!''.

lnto the basket!

You're a clown!

Any chocolate?

We'll have to leave,

like always.

We won't find another house.

We kick down a door,

and we've got a house.

Not like this one.

We needn't leave.

No one'll be in the bar for weeks.

And when they find him?

Who's seen my face?

A few hookers.

Businessmen who've never been there?

Nobodies.

But we must be careful.

Like always.

Come here.

Leire!

Dani, come here.

Rafa, take him.

Leire, l'm Blanca.

Look at me, look at me.

Look at me!

Let's go inside.

The little boy's all right.

Come on.

-l'm going to kill her.

-What?

Who?

The restorer's daughter.

But she was a child.

-When did you see her?

-She's grown up.

And she knows me.

So long, love.

How did it go?

-Where is she?

-Upstairs, in the garnet room.

Why bring her here?

There were problems.

The old woman she lived with

split her skull.

By accident?

Yeah.

And it's better that way.

lt looks as if the girl ran away.

lt's still early.

Later l'll take her

to the railway line.

Some trains will be passing then.

There've been accidents there,

but you could be seen.

There's never anyone there.

Why not put her in a wagon

and send her far away?

Try and say something

even more stupid.

''Why not put her in a wagon?''.

And why not put your l.D.

in her hand, love?

She's harmless.

l don't think she knows anything.

Why was that open?

She isn't what she seems.

She remembers,

and she knows me.

l'll do what l didn't do that day.

-What's wrong?

-Nothing.

This is the first day in ages

we haven't argued.

How nice, my love.

You should kidnap people more often.

lt's so cold upstairs.

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Thierry Charrier

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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