I - I - I can't come right now, Dutch. I'm busy. And I don't know where you are. [Why is he acting like a child? He stood up to Dutch, he told him I insist. And now he's simpering like a little boy? He feels disgust well up inside him.]
Arthur. [That's almost a chuckle on his breath, but not quite.] You're too busy for your family. Your family. That really the case, son?
[He shakes his head and picks up his cigar case; there is no selecting one because there is only one left. He lights it with the little click of his lighter, pauses to take a drag, and then speaks around it:]
[Right. That's what he'd thought. Beaver Hollow was when no one could deny it anymore, what was happening to him. Dutch sounds hysterical, though no one who doesn't know him would hear it in him.]
I'm busy for my family, Dutch. Can't you see that? I may not be doin' what you want me to do, but that don't mean I'm doing the wrong thing.
I am sorry about John and Abigail but there's a whole lot more to this family than her and you know that, and I am tired of you actin' like you know better than the rest of us when all we've done is ensure this family's future. Together!
[Except the ones who have left them and abandoned them, that coward Pearson, useless goddamn Uncle, all of them...]
'The rest of us'? Like fuckin' Micah and his friends, Dutch? [Together - together with fucking who? He feels anger bubbling up inside of him, his hands clenching.]
The rest of us! [It's obvious, it's an immutable fact, it's a reality that Arthur cannot accept.] I do not pretend to know what your issue is with Micah when he has brought in cash and resources and connections.
He's a lying snake who poisoned your mind, that's what I got against
him! Don't tell me to - to come back to my family, when you seem to think
that piece'a shit's my family. What about Hosea, huh? Lenny? John?
And how, Arthur, is Micah responsible for what happened to Hosea, or Lenny, or John? Because I seem to recall they were shot by Pinkertons. Who are coming here to take what is left of this gang, and everything we have sacrificed for!
Because he was a rat, Dutch! How you think they always knew where we was? Huh? How you think things went bad right after he joined? [Dutch raising his voice is only stoking the fire in him, whereas it once may have scared him, once. He doesn't get to yell at him anymore. Not after what he put him and the others through.]
[He's not fucking listening, but he figures he doesn't need to. Arthur has made these arguments before and he'll make them again.]
Things might be bad right this minute but it's only for a minute. For right now. [With some finality:] We finish with this, we'll be home free. I am sure of it, and it disappoints me that you aren't.
[There's a pause. Maybe something like clarity, if only a glimmering instant of it, and then the feeling that if he stops not, all of that loss will be for naught.]
It hurts me, Arthur, it honestly does. I... I didn't want any of this to happen, but it did.
[He hates himself for feeling hope at that moment's pause, and more for the crushing grief that washes over him when Dutch goes on in the same way. His voice is soft, and heartbroken, when he replies.]
Hurts me too, Dutch. It hurts me more than I think you'll ever know.
I... I gave you all I had. One day, you might even believe that.
[Dutch has seen Arthur through a lot, and in all those terrible moments, those miserable ups and downs, there were always ways to take the edge off the hurt, to twist it around into something to move forward towards. Always. It was like that when his boy died and when his girl left him and all of those other bumps along the way.
But there's nothing now. No way to smooth it over, no way to ease it down if Arthur won't trust him. Dutch lets the silence linger for a moment, working the cigar in his mouth as he thinks.]
Maybe. Maybe not. Time will tell I suppose.
[A sudden scoff, something like a laugh.]
Where are you? How the hell are we talkin'? I keep thinkin' you're gonna come out of the goddamn woods.
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momijizukamori
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I - I - I can't come right now, Dutch. I'm busy. And I don't know where you are. [Why is he acting like a child? He stood up to Dutch, he told him I insist. And now he's simpering like a little boy? He feels disgust well up inside him.]
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[He shakes his head and picks up his cigar case; there is no selecting one because there is only one left. He lights it with the little click of his lighter, pauses to take a drag, and then speaks around it:]
Head on back to Beaver Hollow.
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[Right. That's what he'd thought. Beaver Hollow was when no one could deny it anymore, what was happening to him. Dutch sounds hysterical, though no one who doesn't know him would hear it in him.]
I'm busy for my family, Dutch. Can't you see that? I may not be doin' what you want me to do, but that don't mean I'm doing the wrong thing.
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[Except the ones who have left them and abandoned them, that coward Pearson, useless goddamn Uncle, all of them...]
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'The rest of us'? Like fuckin' Micah and his friends, Dutch? [Together - together with fucking who? He feels anger bubbling up inside of him, his hands clenching.]
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He's a lying snake who poisoned your mind, that's what I got against him! Don't tell me to - to come back to my family, when you seem to think that piece'a shit's my family. What about Hosea, huh? Lenny? John?
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And how, Arthur, is Micah responsible for what happened to Hosea, or Lenny, or John? Because I seem to recall they were shot by Pinkertons. Who are coming here to take what is left of this gang, and everything we have sacrificed for!
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Because he was a rat, Dutch! How you think they always knew where we was? Huh? How you think things went bad right after he joined? [Dutch raising his voice is only stoking the fire in him, whereas it once may have scared him, once. He doesn't get to yell at him anymore. Not after what he put him and the others through.]
MANGOES, ARTHUR
Things might be bad right this minute but it's only for a minute. For right now. [With some finality:] We finish with this, we'll be home free. I am sure of it, and it disappoints me that you aren't.
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Because 'we' ain't no longer we. Who are we, without Hosea? Without John, or Abigail, or Miss Adler, or even goddamn Uncle?
It'll be you, me, and Micah. If that's your idea of paradise, you're even more deluded than I thought you was.
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It hurts me, Arthur, it honestly does. I... I didn't want any of this to happen, but it did.
[He lets out a long breath, a shake of his head.
There is no alternative.]
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[He hates himself for feeling hope at that moment's pause, and more for the crushing grief that washes over him when Dutch goes on in the same way. His voice is soft, and heartbroken, when he replies.]
Hurts me too, Dutch. It hurts me more than I think you'll ever know.
I... I gave you all I had. One day, you might even believe that.
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But there's nothing now. No way to smooth it over, no way to ease it down if Arthur won't trust him. Dutch lets the silence linger for a moment, working the cigar in his mouth as he thinks.]
Maybe. Maybe not. Time will tell I suppose.
[A sudden scoff, something like a laugh.]
Where are you? How the hell are we talkin'? I keep thinkin' you're gonna come out of the goddamn woods.
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Doesn't matter. I ain't in the woods. I ain't anywhere you know.
Just... remember what we was. Try and remember what we did, all of us, together.
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I already think about it all the time, son.
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Yeah.
Maybe we just arrived at different places, comin' from the same start.
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Wish it was different. But it ain't, so no use cryin'.
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[Less an accusation than a passing thought said aloud.]
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I already did, but you weren't listenin'.