This is a story about a man named Harold Crick.
And his wristwatch.
Harold Crick was a man of infinite numbers...
...endless calculations and remarkably few words.
And his wristwatch said even less.
Every weekday, for 1 2 years...
...Harold would brush each of his 32 teeth 7 6 times.
Thirty-eight times back and forth.
Thirty-eight times up and down.
Every weekday, for 1 2 years...
...Harold would tie his tie in a single Windsor knot instead of the double...
...thereby saving up to 43 seconds.
His wristwatch thought the single Windsor made his neck look fat...
...but said nothing.
Every weekday, for 1 2 years...
...Harold would run at a rate of nearly 57 steps per block for six blocks...
...barely catching the 8: 1 7 Kronecker bus.
His wristwatch would delight...
...in the feeling of the crisp wind rushing over its face.
And every weekday, for 1 2 years...
...Harold would review 7. 1 34 tax files...
...as a senior agent for the lnternal Revenue Service.
Regs section 1 .469-2 (B) (i), Diane. Thanks.
Good morning. IRS.
HaroId, 89 times 1 41 7?
1 26,1 1 3.
That adds up.
Only taking a 45. 7-minute lunch break...
...and a 4.3-minute coffee break...
...timed precisely by his wristwatch.
Oh, great.
Yeah, we'II go to MuIIen's or we'II....
Beyond that, Harold lived a life of solitude.
He would walk home alone.
He would eat alone.
And at precisely 1 1: 1 3 every night...
...Harold would go to bed alone...
...placing his wristwatch to rest on the nightstand beside him.
That was, of course, before Wednesday.
On Wednesday, Harold's wristwatch changed everything.
Oh, my God, you got it?
I got it.
lf one had asked Harold, he would have said...
...that this particular Wednesday was exactly like all the Wednesdays prior.
And he began it the same way he--
And he began it the same way he always did.
HeIIo?
He began it the same way he always did.
When others' minds would--
HeIIo? Is someone there?
When others' minds would fantasize about their upcoming day...
...or even try to grip onto the final moments of their dreams...
...Harold just counted brushstrokes.
AII right, who just said, ''HaroId just counted brushstrokes''?
And how do you know I'm counting brushstrokes?
HeIIo?
lt was remarkable how the simple, modest--
lt was remarkable h--
lt was remarkable how the simple, modest elements of Harold's life...
...so often taken for granted...
...would become the catalyst for an entirely new life.
Harold ran for the bus...
...his stiff leather shoes making a terrible squeaking sound...
...as they flexed against the asphalt.
And though this was an extraordinary day...
...a day to be remembered for the rest of Harold's life...
...Harold just thought it was a Wednesday.
I'm sorry, did you hear that?
The voice. Did you hear it? ''HaroId thought it was a Wednesday''?
Don't worry, it is Wednesday.
No, no, did you hear it? ''HaroId just thought it was a Wednesday''?
-Who's HaroId? -I'm HaroId.
HaroId, it's okay, it's Wednesday.
No, no, I....
Never mind.
Harold couldn't concentrate on his work.
Excuse me, HaroId?
His thoughts were scattered. His mind elsewhere.
Sorry.
Someone here shouId be abIe to fix-- HoId on a second.
Hey, HaroId. What's 67 times 453?
When a coworker asked the product of 67 and 453...
You know what? I can't think whiIe you're taIking.
...he drew a blank.
-What? -What?
-Harold quickly answered, ''30,35 1. '' -What? Oh, nothing. 30,351 .
Despite the answer really being 3 1,305.
Wait, wait, wait, 31 ,305. Sorry.
Dude, I just totaIIy caught some insurance adjuster...
...cIaiming his jet ski as a work vehicIe.
I'II teII you, it is a shame...
...that they don't give out an auditor of the year award.
Dude?
You okay?
Dave, I'm being foIIowed.
How are you being foIIowed? You're not moving.
-It's by a voice. -What?
I'm being foIIowed by a woman's voice.
Okay.
What is she saying?
She's narrating.
HaroId, you're staring at boxes, what is she narrating?
No, no, no. I had to stop fiIing.
Watch. Watch. Listen. Listen.
The sound the paper made against the folder...
...had the same tone as a wave scraping against sand.
And when Harold thought about it...
...he listened to enough waves every day...
...to constitute what he imagined to be a deep and endless ocean.
Did you hear that?
You mean you fiIing?
No, no, no, the voice.
No.
Frightening part is sometimes I do imagine a deep and endIess ocean.
What ocean?
The one made by the sound-- Forget it.
New audits. Have a good day.
Thank you.
AII right, we got a baker and a securities trader.
Maybe you shouId take the baker.
-Okay? -Okay.
Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!
-You miscreant. -I understand.
Oh, get bent, taxman!
-Taxman! -Taxman!
Taxman!
Go home!
Listen, is there somewhere eIse we couId taIk about this?
No. We're gonna taIk about this right here.
Okay. It says, the fiIe, that you onIy paid part of your taxes for Iast year.
-That's right. -Looks Iike onIy 7 8 percent.
Yep.
So you did it on purpose?
Yep.
So you must have been expecting an audit?
I was expecting a fine...
...or a sharp reprimand.
A reprimand? This isn't boarding schooI, Ms. PascaI.
You stoIe from the government.
No, I didn't steaI from the government. I just didn't pay you entireIy.
Ms. PascaI, you can't just not pay your taxes.
Yes, I can.
You can if you wanna get audited.
OnIy if I recognize your right to audit me, Mr. Crick.
Ms. PascaI, I'm right here auditing you.
Now I have to go over your past three years...
...to make sure that's aII you haven't paid.
Fine.
ActuaIIy, you know, it's not fine.
Listen, I'm a big supporter of fixing pothoIes...
...and erecting swing sets and buiIding sheIters.
I am more than happy to pay those taxes.
I'm just not such a big fan of the percentage...
...that the government uses for nationaI defense...
...corporate baiIouts and campaign discretionary funds.
So I didn't pay those taxes.
I think, actuaIIy...
...I sent a Ietter to that effect with my return.
WouId it be the Ietter that begins, ''Dear ImperiaIist Swine''?
Yes.
Ms. PascaI, what you're describing is anarchy. Are you an anarchist?
-You mean am I a member of--? -An anarchist group, yes.
Anarchists have a group?
I beIieve so. Sure.
They assembIe?
I don't know.
WouIdn't that compIeteIy defeat the purpose?
lt was difficult for Harold to imagine Ms. Pascal as a revolutionary.
-Not now. -Her thin arms...
-What? -...hoisting protest signs.
-Her long shapely legs... -Nothing.
...dashing from tear gas.
Harold wasn't prone to fantasies...
...and so he tried his best to remain professional.
But, of course, failed.
He couldn't help but imagine Ms. Pascal...
...stroking the side of his face with the soft blade of her finger.
He couldn't help but imagine her immersed in a tub...
...shaving her legs.
And he couldn't help but imagine her naked...
-...stretched across his bed. -Mr. Crick?
-Mr. Crick. -Yes, what is it?
You're staring at my tits.
I wa--? I don't think I was. I don't think I wouId do that.
If I was, I can assure you...
...it was onIy as a representative of the United States government.
Sorry, I'm just having issues today. So I'II be back on Tuesday.
Harold suddenly found himself beleaguered and exasperated...
-...outside the bakery... -Shut up!
...cursing the heavens in futility.
No, I'm not, I'm cursing you, you stupid voice!
So shut up and Ieave me aIone!
Hey, watch it!
Excuse me.
Are you Miss EiffeI?
-Yes. -ExceIIent.
May I ask what you're doing?
Research.
-Oh, am I interrupting? -Yes.
I'm sorry. I'm Penny Escher.
I'm the assistant your pubIishers hired.
-The spy. -The assistant.
I provide the same services as a secretary.
I don't need a secretary.
Then I wiII have to find some other way of occupying my time.
Like watching me Iike a vuIture...
...because the pubIishers think I have writer's bIock, right?
Do you have writer's bIock?
Are these pages?
They're Ietters. To me.
-Are you writing back? -I don't respond to Ietters.
And I suppose you smoked aII these cigarettes?
No, they came pre-smoked.
Yeah, they said you were funny.
What do you think about Ieaping off a buiIding?
I don't think about Ieaping off buiIdings.
-Yes, you do. -No. I try to think of nice things.
Everyone thinks about Ieaping off buiIdings.
WeII, I certainIy don't think about Ieaping off of a buiIding.
They say--
I read this in this fantasticaIIy depressing book.
--that when you jump from a buiIding...
...it's rareIy the impact that actuaIIy kiIIs you.
WeII, I'm sure it doesn't heIp.
There's a photograph in the book caIIed The Leaper.
It's oId, but it's beautifuI.
From above the corpse of a woman who'd just Ieapt to her death.
There's bIood around her head, Iike a haIo...
...and her Ieg's buckIed underneath, her arm's snapped Iike a twig...
...but her face is so serene...
...so at peace.
And I think it's because when she died...
...she couId feeI the wind against her face.
I don't know how to kiII HaroId Crick. That's why they sent you.
Yes, to heIp you.
How are you gonna heIp me?
You, who never thinks of Ieaping off buiIdings?
What great inspiration wiII you bestow on me?
I'II teII you, the quaint ideas you've gathered...
...in your adorabIe career as an ''assistant''...
...are to no avaiI when faced with kiIIing a man.
I understand.
Do you? I can't just--
As much as I wouId Iike to...
...I cannot simpIy throw HaroId Crick off a buiIding.
Miss EiffeI. Kay. I've been an author's assistant for 1 1 years.
I've heIped more than 20 authors compIete more than 35 books...
...and I've never missed the deadIine.
And I have never gone back to the pubIisher to ask for more time.
Now, I wiII be avaiIabIe to you every minute of every day...
...untiI the finaI punctuation is embedded on the very Iast page.
I do not Iike Ioud music. I do not abide narcotics.
And I wiII gIadIy and quietIy heIp you kiII HaroId Crick.
I had a very interesting IittIe convo with someone in your section.
Yeah?
They said you were feeIing a IittIe wibbIy-wobbIy.
Catch a IittIe cubicIe fever?
Oh, I don't know. I think I'm okay.
HaroId, a tree doesn't think it's a tree...
...it is a tree.
Why was Harold talking to this man?
This man was an idiot.
This man used words like ''wibbly-wobbly'' and ''convo. ''
And explained that trees were trees.
Of course trees were trees.
Harold knew trees were trees.
I am going to beIieve you, HaroId.
What Harold didn't know was why he couldn't shake...
...the smell of brownies from his senses.
Why Ms. Pascal had made his fingertips quiver and lips go numb.
HaroId?
Yes? Sorry.
What's going on, HaroId?
WeII....
Nothing. Everything's fine.
Listen, according to your records...
...you haven't taken vacation in a few years now.
Let's say you take a IittIe break.
Use some of that vaca time.
Yeah. I'II think about it.
HaroId.
I'm not reaIIy supposed to do this, but....
Harold assumed his watch was simply on the fritz...
...and never even considered that it might be trying to tell him something.
ln fact, Harold had never once paid attention to his watch...
...other than to find out the time.
And, honestly, it drove his watch crazy.
And so, on this particular Wednesday evening...
...as Harold waited for the bus, his watch suddenly...
...stopped.
Sorry, does anyone have the time?
-Yeah, I got 6:1 8. -Thanks.
Thus Harold's watch thrust him into the immitigable path of fate.
Little did he know that this simple, seemingly innocuous act...
...would result in his imminent death.
What? What?
Hey! HeIIo?
What?
Why?
Why my death?
HeIIo!
Excuse me!
When?
How imminent?
Okay, where are you?
''HaroId wouId brush his 32 teeth 72 times.''
Why won't you say anything? I heard you.
''That wouId resuIt in his imminent death.''
I heard you!
Come on, you stupid voice.
''HaroId franticaIIy grabbed his Iamp.
HaroId, incensed, shook the heII out of it for no apparent reason!
And smashed it on the ground, kicking it repeatedIy!
HaroId took his KIeenex box, threw it across the room...
...then stormed the cIoset!''
Come on. Say something.
Something. Say something!
Say something!
''HaroId, distraught....''
God.
''HaroId, distraught....''
''HaroId....''
l'm afraid what you're describing is schizophrenia.
No. No. It's not schizophrenia. It's just a voice in my head.
I mean, the voice isn't teIIing me to do anything.
It's teIIing me what I've aIready done.
AccurateIy and with a better vocabuIary.
Mr. Crick, you have a voice speaking to you.
No, not to me, about me.
I'm somehow invoIved in some sort of story.
Like I'm a character in my own Iife.
But the probIem is that the voice comes and goes.
Like there are other parts of the story not being toId to me...
...and I need to find out what those other parts are before it's too Iate.
Before the story concIudes with your death.
Yes.
Mr. Crick, I hate to sound Iike a broken record...
...but that's schizophrenia.
You don't sound Iike a broken record, but it's just not schizophrenia.
What if what I said was true?
HypotheticaIIy speaking, if I was part of a story, a narrative...
...even if it was onIy in my mind...
...what wouId you suggest that I do?
I wouId suggest you take prescribed medication.
Other than that.
I don't know.
I suppose I wouId send you to see someone who knows about Iiterature.
Okay.
Yeah. That's a good idea.
Thank you.
So you're the gentIeman who caIIed me about the narrator.
-Yes. -This narrator says you're gonna die.
Yes.
-How Iong has it given you to Iive? -I don't know.
Dramatic irony. It'II fuck you every time.
-So you crazy or what? -WeII--
Are you aIIowed to say that to crazy peopIe?
-I don't know. -Oh, weII. How many stairs...
-...in the haIIway out there? -What?
You were counting them as we waIked, weren't you?
No.
Of course. What bank do you work at?
No bank. IRS agent.
-Married? -No.
Ever?
Engaged to an auditor. She Ieft me for an actuary.
-How heartbreaking. Live aIone? -Yes.
-Any pets? -No.
-Friends? -No. WeII, Dave at work.
I see. The narrator, exactIy what does he sound Iike?
It's a woman.
A woman.
-Is it a famiIiar woman? -No.
Someone you know?
No.
Did you have enough time to count the tiIes in the bathroom?
I wasn't counting the tiIes.
-Coffee? -No, thank you.
-Sure? -Yes.
So this woman, the voice, toId you you're gonna die?
She didn't teII me. She doesn't know I can hear her.
-But she said it. -Yes.
And you beIieved her.
She's been right about a few other things.
-Such as? -How I feIt about work.
-You disIike your work? -Yes.
WeII, not the most insightfuI voice in the worId, is it?
First thing on a Iist of what Americans hate: work.
Second, traffic. Third, missing socks. See what I'm saying?
Sort of.
I toId you you were gonna die, you beIieve me?
-No. -Why?
I don't know you.
-But you don't know this narrator. -WeII....
-Okay, Mr. Crick, I can't heIp you. -Why?
WeII, I'm not an expert in crazy, I'm an expert in Iiterature theory.
And I gotta teII you, thus far...
...there doesn't seem to be a singIe Iiterary thing about you.
I don't doubt you hear a voice, but it couIdn't possibIy be a narrator...
...because, frankIy, there doesn't seem to be much to narrate.
Beside that, this semester I'm teaching five courses.
I'm mentoring two doctoraI candidates...
...and I'm the facuIty Iifeguard at the pooI.
-I just thought you couId possibIy-- -Perhaps you shouId keep a journaI.
Write down what she said or something.
That's aII I can suggest.
I can bareIy remember it aII. I just remember:
''LittIe did he know that this simpIe, seemingIy innocuous act...
...wouId Iead to his imminent death.''
-What? -''LittIe did he know that this--''
-Did you say, ''IittIe did he know''? -Yes.
I've written papers on ''IittIe did he know.''
I used to teach a cIass based on ''IittIe did he know.''
I mean, I once gave an entire seminar on ''IittIe did he know.''
Son of a bitch, HaroId.
''LittIe did he know'' means there's something he doesn't know...
...that means there's something you don't know. Did you know that?
-I want you to come back Friday. -Okay.
No, ''imminent,'' you couId be dead by Friday.
Come back tomorrow at 9:45.
Ten seconds ago you said you wouIdn't heIp me.
It's been a very reveaIing 1 0 seconds, HaroId.
Harold was deep in thought.
For a few, brief moments, from Born Boulevard to Euclid Avenue...
...all the calculations and all the rules...
...and all the precision of Harold's life just faded away.
How perfect then that in this space...
...Ana Pascal would appear.
Ms. PascaI.
Ms. PascaI, it's HaroId Crick from the IRS.
Excuse me.
-Hi. -Hi.
-WouId you Iike a seat? -Nope.
There's 1 1 open ones.
I don't care.
Sorry about that.
How are you?
I'm Iousy. I'm being audited.
Of course.
By a reaI creep too.
I think I owe you an apoIogy.
-ReaIIy? -IRS agents...
...we're given rigorous aptitude tests before we can work.
UnfortunateIy for you, we aren't tested on tact or good manners...
...so I apoIogize.
I ogIed you.
Sorry.
Okay, apoIogy accepted.
But onIy because you stammered.
So you're a frequenter of the metropoIitan transit authority too?
No. I'm just Iate.
Big fIag-burning to get to?
ActuaIIy...
...it's my weekIy eviI-conspiracy and needIepoint group.
You wanna come?
I Ieft my thimbIes and sociaIist reading materiaI at home.
So....
Harold nervously made small talk.
You have very straight teeth.
Very small talk.
Thanks. They're reaI.
Harold quickly calculated the odds of making an ass of himself...
...in ratio to the amount of time he stayed to chat.
This is my stop. I shouId go.
-He was elated and surprised... -See you soon.
...by his somewhat flirtatious encounter with Ms. Pascal.
So elated that he exited the Transit Authority bus...
...a good 2 7 blocks too early and would now have to walk.
-''You ain't down yet. '' -That's right.
Tell us, what is You Ain't Got Nothin' On Me about, Emmett Cole?
What does this mean?
Well, it's about being around in the world, doing different things...
-...doing what you wanna do.... -Come in.
Mr. Crick. Come in, come in. PIease.
How are you?
I'm fine, actuaIIy.
You can turn that off.
Looks Iike our narrator hasn't kiIIed you quite yet.
-No, not yet. -Good, great. Have a seat.
-Count the stairs outside? -No.
Course not. I've devised a test--
How exciting is that? --of 23 questions...
...which I think might heIp uncover more truths about this narrator.
-Now, Howard.... -HaroId.
HaroId. These may seem siIIy, but your candor is paramount.
Okay.
So.
We know it's a woman's voice, the story invoIves your death...
...it's modern, it's in EngIish.
I'm assuming the author has a cursory knowIedge of the city.
-Sure. -Okay, good.
Question one:
''Has anyone recentIy Ieft any gifts outside your home?''
Anything? Gum? Money?
-A Iarge wooden horse? -I'm sorry?
-Just answer the question. -No.
''Do you find yourseIf incIined to soIve murder mysteries...
...in Iarge, Iuxurious homes to which--?'' Let me finish.
''To which you may or may not have been invited?''
No. No, no, no.
AII right. On a scaIe of one to 1 0...
...what wouId you consider the IikeIihood you might be assassinated?
Assassinated?
One being very unIikeIy, 1 0 being expecting it around every corner.
-I have no idea-- -Okay. Let me rephrase.
Are you the king of anything?
-Like what? -Anything.
King of the Ianes at the IocaI bowIing aIIey.
''King of the Ianes''?
-King of the Ianes. King of the troIIs. -''King of the troIIs''?
Yes. A cIandestine Iand found underneath your fIoorboards.
-Anything. -No.
No. That's ridicuIous.
Agreed. But Iet's start with ridicuIous and move backwards.
Now, was any part of you at one time part of something eIse?
Like do I have someone eIse's arms?
WeII, is it possibIe at one time that you were made of stone...
...wood, Iye, varied corpse parts...
...or earth made hoIy by rabbinicaI eIders?
No. Look.... I'm sorry. What do these questions have to do with anything?
The onIy way to find out what story you're in...
...is to determine what stories you're not in.
Odd as it may seem, I've just ruIed out haIf of Greek Iiterature...
...seven fairy taIes, 1 0 Chinese fabIes...
...and determined concIusiveIy that you are not King HamIet...
...Scout Finch, Miss MarpIe...
...Frankenstein's monster, or a goIem.
Aren't you reIieved to know you're not a goIem?
Yes, I am reIieved to know that I am not a goIem.
Good.
Do you have magicaI powers?
May I ask what we're doing out here?
-We're imagining car wrecks. -I see.
And we can't imagine car wrecks inside?
No.
Did you know that 41 percent of accidents...
...occur in times of incIement weather?
So do 90 percent of pneumonia cases.
ReaIIy? Pneumonia. That's an interesting way to die.
But how wouId HaroId catch pneumonia?
Have you written anything new today?
No.
Did you read the poems I suggested, or make a Iist of words...
...buy new typing paper, anything?
No, none of it.
Sitting in the rain won't write books.
WeII, that iIIustrates exactIy how much you know about writing books.
What's this?
It's Iiterature on the nicotine patch.
I don't need a nicotine patch, Penny. I smoke cigarettes.
WeII, it may heIp.
May heIp? HeIp what?
HeIp what, Penny? HeIp write a noveI?
May heIp save your Iife.
I'm not in the business of saving Iives.
In fact, just the opposite.
-''What's your favorite word?'' -Integer.
Good, good, good.
''Do you aspire to anything?''
-No. -Conquer Russia?
-Win a whistIing contest? -No.
HaroId, you must have some ambition.
-I don't think so. -Some underIying dream. Think.
WeII...
...I've aIways wanted my Iife to be more musicaI.
-Like West Side Story? -No.
-Like.... -What?
WeII, I've aIways wanted to Iearn to pIay the guitar.
Okay.
The Iast thing to determine concIusiveIy...
...is whether you're in a comedy or a tragedy.
To quote ItaIo CaIvino:
''The uItimate meaning to which aII stories refer has two faces:
The continuity of Iife, the inevitabiIity of death.''
Tragedy, you die. Comedy, you get hitched.
Most comic heroes faII in Iove with peopIe...
...introduced after the story has begun.
UsuaIIy peopIe who hate the hero initiaIIy.
AIthough I can't imagine anyone hating you, HaroId.
Professor HiIbert, I'm an IRS agent.
Everyone hates me.
Right, right. Good.
Have you met anyone recentIy who might Ioathe the very core of you?
I just started auditing a woman who toId me to get bent.
WeII, that sounds Iike a comedy.
Try to deveIop that.
Four of these?
You know, I didn't get my honey, honey.
LuIu, can you refiII the honey for Larry? Quarters aIso?
That's my good boy.
I'm adding some acorns.
Mr. Crick.
You're here earIy. Must have a Iot of peopIe to extort.
No. No, just you.
-Twig tea and banana bread. -Yes, ma'am.
ActuaIIy, it shouId onIy take the day to make sure 22 percent is aII you owe.
WeII, I won't be paying no matter the percentage, Mr. Crick.
No, I know. But the percent determines how big your ceII is.
You know, you can caII me HaroId.
Yeah, I know. But I don't want to.
This is for Ramona, honey.
-Oh, thank you. -You're very weIcome.
What is that? What are you marking?
Oh, this is nothing.
Why don't we start with your backup documents...
...and the receipts for the past three years.
Sure.
What's this?
-My fiIes. -What?
My tax fiIes.
You keep your fiIes Iike this?
No, actuaIIy I'm quite fastidious.
I put them in this box just to screw with you.
-Hi. -Hi. How are you?
So how was it? Aruba.
Ms. PascaI? Can I just ask you a question about this receipt?
-It was fantastic. -Just wondering if this nine is a seven.
-And what did you do? -I got a beautifuI tan.
-I'm just gonna guess it's a seven. -I mean, I feeI stress-free.
Do you need heIp with that?
--waIk to heaven. I see the president.
-It's the taxman. HeIIo, Mr. Taxman. -Yeah.
-You can caII me HaroId. -Okay.
-How the numbers going? -Pretty good.
-Gonna find that 22 percent? -22 percent?
Twenty-two, 1 1 times 2. It's prime numbers.
-You gonna tax the bathroom? -No, I'm not gonna tax the bathroom.
-CouId I use the bathroom, then? -Go for it.
Okay. I wanna use the bathroom. Bye now.
Bye-bye.
WeII, good night.
You want a cookie?
Oh, no.
Come on. They're warm and gooey. They're fresh out of the oven.
No, I don't Iike cookies.
You don't Iike cookies?
-What's wrong with you? -I don't know.
-Everybody Iikes cookies. -No, I know.
I mean, after a reaIIy awfuI, no-good day...
...didn't your mama ever make you miIk and cookies?
No. My mother didn't bake.
The onIy cookies I ever had were store-bought.
Okay. Sit down.
-No, I'm-- -No.
Sit down.
Now...
...eat a cookie.
I reaIIy can't.
Mr. Crick, it was a reaIIy awfuI day.
I know, I made sure of it.
So pick up the cookie...
...dip it in the miIk...
...and eat it.
That's a reaIIy, reaIIy good cookie.
So when did you decide to become a baker?
-In coIIege. -Oh, Iike a cooking coIIege?
I went to Harvard Law actuaIIy.
-Oh, I'm sorry, I just assumed it was-- -No. No, it's fine. I didn't finish.
-Did something happen? -No.
I was bareIy accepted. I mean, reaIIy bareIy.
The onIy reason they Iet me come was because of my essay.
How I was gonna make the worId a better pIace with my degree.
Anyway, we wouId have to participate in these study sessions...
...my cIassmates and I, sometimes aII night Iong.
And so I'd bake so no one wouId go hungry whiIe we worked.
Sometimes I wouId bake aII afternoon in the kitchen in the dorm...
...and then I'd bring my IittIe treats to the study groups...
...and peopIe Ioved them.
Eat.
I made oatmeaI cookies, peanut-butter bars...
...dark-chocoIate macadamia-nut wedges.
And everyone wouId eat and stay happy...
...and study harder and do better on the tests.
More and more peopIe started coming to the study groups...
...and I'd bring more snacks.
I was aIways Iooking for better and better recipes...
...untiI soon it was ricotta cheese and apricot croissants...
...and mocha bars with an aImond gIaze...
...and Iemon chiffon cake with zesty peach icing.
And at the end of the semester I had 2 7 study partners...
...eight Mead journaIs fiIIed with recipes...
...and a D average.
So I dropped out.
I figured if I was gonna make the worId a better pIace...
...I wouId do it with cookies.
You Iike them?
I do.
I'm gIad.
Thank you for forcing me to eat them.
You're weIcome.
I shouId go. Oh, thank you. For the cookies, I mean.
-Why don't you take them home? -Oh, no.
-Oh, come on. -No, reaIIy, pIease.
-No, no, no. ReaIIy, pIease.
I wouId Iike to, but I can't.
-You can't? -No, no, I mean--
Because, see, it constitutes a gift.
ActuaIIy I shouIdn't have even had those other ones, so....
Okay. WeII, I'm not gonna teII anyone.
-No. I know, but if you did.... -WeII, I'm not going to.
I know, but if you did--
-What, you think I'm gonna caII the--? -No, no. I'II purchase them.
I'm happy to purchase them. How's that?
And then there are no issues.
-What? -No.
-PIease. -Just....
-Why don't I just--? -Go home.
ReaIIy, it's not a big deaI.
Go home.
Okay.
Did you...?
You baked those cookies for me, didn't you?
You were just trying to be nice and I totaIIy bIew it.
This may sound Iike gibberish to you...
...but I think I'm in a tragedy.
Professor HiIbert, I've totaIIy faiIed at the comedy-tragedy thing.
In fact, I think she Iikes me even Iess.
-I know, it's great. -What do you mean?
You've proved something eIse entireIy.
The voice seems to be dependent on actions you take.
You reset your watch, it says you reset your watch.
You ride a bus, it says you ride the bus.
You brush your teeth, it says you brush your teeth.
It may be that you yourseIf are perpetuating the story.
-So I suggest we try something eIse. -Like what?
-Try nothing. Nothing. -What about Ms. PascaI?
-Forget her. -Forget her?
Other than numbers, she's aII I think about.
HaroId, if you wanna stay aIive, you'II try something eIse.
-That something being nothing? -Nothing, exactIy.
-Nothing? -Let me expIain this again.
Some pIots are moved forward by externaI events and crises.
Others are moved forward by the characters themseIves.
If I go through that door, the pIot continues.
The story of me through the door. If I stay here...
...the pIot can't move forward, the story ends.
AIso if I stay here, I'm Iate.
-Don't do anything tomorrow. -Nothing?
Stay home. Don't answer the phone, open the door, brush your teeth.
-What about work? -CaII them.
-TeII them you're not coming. -Don't go to work?
Don't do anything that may move the pIot forward.
Instead, Iet's see if the pIot finds you.
MarshaII, you're not kicking.
--certain that these geese have never known any home but this one:
A small lake in Eastern Poland.
Pollution from a nearby factory is slowly killing...
...the small fish and insects on which these creatures feed.
All attempts to move the birds to similar bodies of water have failed.
Perhaps it is the familiarity alone that keeps them here.
Or perhaps it's an unwillingness to lose the collective memory...
...of the once-beautiful hills that surround the lake.
And it takes only seconds for the fiddler crabs to realize...
...that the wader they might once have feared...
...has now become their prey.
The wounded bird knows its fate.
lts desperate attempts to escape...
...only underscore the hopelessness of its plight.
The primates' sad, soulful eyes will be the first to be plucked out...
...then sold to cosmetic companies around the world...
...for use in the testing of mascara and artificial tears.
Next, the monkeys' fur will be stripped away from their limp corpses...
...and sewn together to form pillows and comforters.
Mr. Zebra thought he was gonna take a nice drink.
But you never know who's gonna eat...
...when you're dining at Mother Nature's restaurant.
That's gotta hurt. What does this bald eagle wanna serve...
...with some kidney beans and a fine Chianti?
lt's an eel. And again:
Looks like old Mr. Crocodile wanted some antelope...
...to clear that salty zebra from his palate.
Here's a struggle betting gentlemen have been known to put money on.
When a mongoose encounters a cobra it's hard to know who's gonna win.
But this time it looks like it's...the cobra...
...who's putting the squeeze on the mongoose!
But don't cash in your chips just yet, gentlemen...
...because now it's the mongoose who holds the winning card!
Hey! Hey!
Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?!
-HoIy crapping heII. -What the heII is that?
-Stop the crane. Stop it. -Stop the crane!
-Hey. -Hey, what are you doing?
Us? What are you doing?
I was watching TV.
-WeII, we're demoIishing this pIace. -Are you nuts? I Iive here!
-Is that a TV? -Yes, that's a TV! It's my TV!
-WeII, what's your TV doing in there? -I said I Iive here, stupid!
It's where I keep my stuff!
My name's on the goddamn buzzer! HaroId Crick.
Apartment 2-B, 1 893 McCarthy!
-Did you say 1 893? -Yes!
I'm not exactIy sure it was pIot.
I was hoping you'd say it was just a reaIIy bad coincidence.
Meeting an insurance agent the day your poIicy runs out is coincidence.
Getting a Ietter from the emperor saying that he's visiting is pIot.
Having your apartment eaten by a wrecking baII...
...is something eIse entireIy.
HaroId, you don't controI your fate.
-I know. -You do?
Okay. Come with me.
Hey, Tom, can you Ieave that tiII tomorrow?
You were right. This narrator might very weII kiII you...
...so I humbIy suggest that you just forget aII this and go Iive your Iife.
Go Iive my Iife?
I am Iiving my Iife. I'd Iike to continue to Iive my Iife.
I know. Of course. I mean aII of it. However Iong you have Ieft.
You know, I mean, Howard, you couId use it to have an adventure.
You know, invent something, or just finish reading Crime and Punishment.
HeII, HaroId, you couId just eat nothing but pancakes if you wanted.
What's wrong with you?
Hey. I don't wanna eat nothing but pancakes. I wanna Iive.
Who in their right mind in a choice between pancakes and Iiving...
...chooses pancakes?
HaroId, if you'd pause to think I beIieve you'd reaIize...
...that that answer's inextricabIy contingent...
...upon the type of Iife being Ied...
...and, of course, the quaIity of the pancakes.
You don't understand what I'm saying.
Yes, I do.
But you have to understand that this isn't a phiIosophy or a Iiterary theory...
...or a story to me. It's my Iife.
AbsoIuteIy. So just go make it the one you've aIways wanted.
I never expected that they wouId have--
-Do you want one, two? -I want one.
-One? -I want two.
AII right, so here's your room.
Or as I Iike to caII it, SIeep Pod Two.
Thanks, Dave.
No probIem, dude. It'II be nice having you around.
-How Iong you pIanning on staying? -I'm not sure.
Dave, can I pose a somewhat abstract, pureIy hypotheticaI question?
Sure.
If you knew you were gonna die...
...possibIy soon...
...what wouId you do?
Wow, I don't know.
Am I the richest man in the worId?
No, you're you.
Do I have a superpower?
No, you're you.
I know I'm me, but do I have a superpower?
No, why wouId you have a superpower?
I don't know, you said it was hypotheticaI.
Fine. Yes. You're reaIIy good at math.
That's not a power, that's a skiII.
Okay, you're good at math and you're invisibIe.
-And you know you're gonna die. -Okay, okay.
That's easy, I'd go to space camp.
Space camp?
Yeah, it's in AIabama. It's where kids go to Iearn how to become astronauts.
I've aIways wanted to go since I was 9.
You're invisibIe and you'd go to space camp?
I didn't pick invisibIe, you picked invisibIe.
Aren't you too oId to go to space camp?
You're never too oId to go to space camp, dude.
Space camp.
One hundred and twenty-two guitars.
Seven hundred and thirty-two strings.
Two hundred and fifty-seven pickups.
One hundred and eighty-nine volume knobs.
Here Harold stood, face to face with his oldest desire.
And stand is almost all Harold did.
lt wasn't just about finding a guitar.
lt was about finding a guitar that said something about Harold.
Unfortunately, this guitar said:
''When l get back to Georgia, that woman gonna feel my pain. ''
This one said something along the lines of:
''Why, yes, these pants are Lycra. ''
These said, ''l'm very sensitive, very caring...
...and l have absolutely no idea how to play the guitar. ''
''l'm compensating for something. Guess what. ''
And then Harold saw it.
A damaged and terribly mistreated sea-foam-green Fender...
...staring back at him.
Despite its obvious maladies...
...the guitar spoke with conviction and swagger.
ln fact, it looked Harold directly in the eye and very plainly stated:
''l rock. ''
Just breathe. Watch it!
We've got a 2 1 -year-oId maIe with a gunshot wound to the chest.
There you go.
Shot in a gang fight? HaroId's not in a gang.
Man in tweed?
There's nothing wrong with him, he just Iikes Iooking at sick peopIe.
OddIy spoken with disdain.
This isn't working.
WeII-- I don't even know why we're here.
I don't think we're supposed to be here.
-You said I needed visuaI stimuIi. -I meant a museum.
I don't need a goddamn museum. I need the infirm.
You are the infirm.
You're right. The probIem is these peopIe aren't dead...
...they're just severeIy injured.
Excuse me, where are the dying peopIe?
Most of these peopIe are sick or injured--
Which is great, don't get me wrong.
--but they're gonna get better, which doesn't reaIIy heIp me.
Is there any way to see the peopIe who aren't going to get better?
Excuse me?
I'd Iike to see, if at aII possibIe, the ones who aren't gonna make it.
You know, the dead-for-sure ones.
I'm sorry, are you suffering from anything?
Just writer's bIock.
With every awkward strum...
...Harold Crick became stronger in who he was...
...what he wanted, and why he was alive.
Harold no longer ate alone.
He no longer counted brushstrokes.
-HaroId, I'II see you. -He no longer wore neckties.
Bye, Dave.
And, therefore, no longer worried about the time it took to put them on.
He no longer counted his steps to the bus stop.
lnstead, Harold did that which had terrified him before.
That which had eluded him Monday through Friday...
...for so many years.
That which the unrelenting lyrics...
...of numerous punk-rock songs told him to do:
Harold Crick lived his life.
But despite resuscitating his life...
...reviving his hope, and instilling a few wicked calluses...
...Harold's journey was still incomplete.
And Harold's wristwatch wasn't about to let him miss another opportunity.
Ms. PascaI?
-Ms. PascaI? -Mr. Crick.
-Hi. -Hi.
I'm gIad I caught you.
Oh, yeah? Why?
Because I wanted to bring these to you.
-ReaIIy? -Yeah.
So you can't accept gifts, but you can give them?
-Listen-- -I don't know.
That seems a IittIe inconsistent, doesn't it, Mr. Crick?
Very inconsistent, yes.
I'II teII you what. I'II purchase them.
-No. -No, no, no, reaIIy...
...I'd Iike to purchase them. What are they?
FIours.
-What? -I brought you fIours.
And you carried them aII the way here?
Ms. PascaI, I've been odd and I know that I've been odd.
And I want you.
-What? -There's so many reasons.
There's so many infIuences in my Iife that are teIIing me...
...at times quite IiteraIIy...
...that I shouId come here and bring you these...
...but I'm doing this because I want you.
You want me?
In no uncertain terms.
Isn't there some very cIear and estabIished...
...ruIe about fraternization?
-Auditor-auditee protocoI? -Yeah.
Yeah, but I don't care.
-Why? -Because I want you.
WeII...
...do you mind carrying those a IittIe bit further?
Okay.
Did you make a key?
No, I just committed it to memory.
-The bIue, that's barIey fIour. -What's that one?
-The orange? -Yeah.
I forget.
Right here.
Do you wanna come up?
-To your pIace? -Yeah.
I guess I couId.
Wasn't that the idea with the fIours and everything?
HonestIy, I onIy figured it out up to ''I want you.''
Listen, Mr. Crick...
...I think I Iike you.
And before I do anything rash, I'd Iike to make sure.
I'd Iike you to come up.
I'd be honored.
Great.
Yeah, he was nuts though.
He got caught when he tried to get the contract notarized.
No. No.
Was it good?
Thank you.
-You're weIcome. -Can I heIp you?
No, no, I'm gonna put them in the sink. Go sit down on the couch.
So do you pIay the guitar?
-What? -Do you pIay the guitar?
TerribIy. Someone traded me that for a wedding cake.
Does that mean I have to cIaim it on my taxes now?
-No. I'II Ieave it out of my finaI report. -Oh, thanks.
Do you pIay?
Not reaIIy. I onIy know one song.
Oh, pIay it.
No, I don't know it that weII, actuaIIy.
No, come on. I promise I'm not gonna Iaugh at you. PIay it.
No, no, no. Maybe some other time.
AII right.
Ms. PascaI?
-I.... -I know.
I want you too.
Harold's life was filled with moments both significant and mundane.
But to Harold, those moments remained entirely indistinguishable...
...except for this.
As Ana let out a soft sigh and repositioned herself against him...
...Harold knew somewhere in his heart...
...that this was one of the significant moments.
He knew she was falling in love with him.
Professor HiIbert. It's a comedy.
-What? -A comedy.
The woman. The one who hates me. Ana PascaI?
-Last night.... -Yeah?
She's faIIing in Iove with me.
-She is? -It's Iike a miracIe.
The voice confirmed it in the middIe of the night.
WeII, that's wonderfuI, HaroId.
I mean, it compIeteIy nuIIifies my Iist, but that's fantastic.
What Iist?
These are seven Iiving authors whose prior work...
...wouId seem to make them candidates to write your story...
...based on the criteria you and I previousIy determined.
If your narrator is aIive, she's on this Iist.
But it appears the Iist is of IittIe use to you now.
Now that you're gonna Iive happiIy ever after.
Oh, goodie. This woman, Karen EiffeI, she's one of my favorite authors.
-Hi. -Hi.
BeautifuI tragedies. Just beautifuI. Anyway...
...Iet me quickIy copy this Iist for you, just in case.
Sociopathic author.
-I just wanted to thank you. -Of course.
Listen, pIease, you must teII me if you hear the voice of the narrator again...
...just for my own edification.
I wiII.
Well, it's called Death and Taxes.
Wow. You know, l'm from Texas.
No. Not ''Texas. '' Taxes.
Death and Taxes. Death and Taxes.
Taxes. Like the Benjamin Franklin quote.
Precisely so.
This lady's a package, l'm telling you.
Tell us, what is this next book going to be about?
lt's about interconnectivity.
The looming certainty of death.
Men's fashion accessories.
-Oh, my God, that's her. -What?
-That's the voice. She's the narrator. -No, that can't be right.
No, I'm positive.
HaroId, this interview's a decade oId.
l didn't think anyone actually wore cuff links anymore.
That's her.
-She's British? -She's her.
-Karen EiffeI? -Professor HiIbert, I know that voice.
Crap.
-What's wrong? -First of aII, she wasn't on my Iist.
I figured you wouId have mentioned the accent and she doesn't....
She kiIIs peopIe.
-What? -In every book she--
The books are aII about-- They die. She kiIIs them.
-KiIIs who? -The heroes.
Four BIack VeiIs. What is that?
lt's about a girl who loses several members of her family...
...in quick succession.
Where is she?
She's untraceabIe. BeIieve me, I used to teach a cIass on her.
I've written her Ietters. I mean, she's a hermit, she's a recIuse.
Here. Here's the Iast book she wrote.
Look at the copyright. She hasn't pubIished anything in 1 0 years.
She had knowIedge of the city. Does she Iive here?
She used to, yes, but I mean--
Banneker Press. 2267 WaIIace Street. Is that her pubIisher?
You're not Iistening. I said even if you find her she's not gonna--
Thank you for your heIp.
She onIy writes tragedies!
l don't believe in God.
Okay, he's bringing her fIours.
Kay, where you been?
I went out to buy cigarettes...
...and I figured out how to kiII HaroId Crick.
Buying cigarettes?
As I was-- When I came out of the store...
...it came to me.
How?
WeII, Penny, Iike anything worth writing...
...it came inexpIicabIy and without method.
I see. Then what happens?
It's perfect, actuaIIy. I can't beIieve I didn't think of it earIier.
It's simpIe, ironic...
...possibIy heartbreaking.
Is that it?
Yes.
-You wrote it on IegaI sheets? -On the bus.
WeII, then.
So I'II finish it today.
I'II Iet the pubIishers know.
I'II begin packing my things.
I appreciate it.
-Hi. HeIIo. Hi. -May I heIp you?
I need to speak to Karen EiffeI.
-I'm sorry? -Karen EiffeI.
She's one of your authors. I need to taIk to her.
WeII, sir, she's not here.
No. No, I know. I need to find her. I need to know where she is.
We're just the pubIishers.
Right. Of course. But there must be a way that I can contact her.
We have the address where her fan maiI is sent.
No, I can't send maiI. It's urgent.
How do you know her?
-I'm her brother. -Her brother?
-Her brother-in-Iaw. -She has a sister?
No, I'm married to her brother.
Not in this state, the one over.
Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to Ieave.
No. Okay. Listen.
I'm one of her characters. I'm new. I'm in her new book.
And she's going to kiII me. Not actuaIIy. But in the book.
But I think it'II actuaIIy kiII me so I just need to taIk to her...
...and ask her to stop.
Hi, HaroId. Nice sweater.
Hi, HaroId. Phones are out.
Hey, HaroId, 1 9 percent of 4632...?
Hey, HaroId. Back from your vaca?
Hey. Looking good.
-He Iooks terribIe. -Yeah, banged up.
Wherever he went, I do not want to go.
Book me not there.
He's totaIIy ignoring me.
Here, Iook at this now. There he goes.
It was good having you.
-Oh, dude, the phones are out. -Can I borrow your ceII phone?
-The signaI's down. -Damn it.
-You aII right? -Dave, I need a favor.
-Sure, what is it? -Can I have some change?
Within moments, Harold found himself running across the plaza...
...heading for the nearest pay phone.
At last, he spotted it.
But as Harold neared the phone, he saw it was occupied...
...by an octogenarian determined to reach his daughter in Denver...
...no matter how many quarters it took.
Fortunately, Harold remembered a bank of phones...
...in the Sixth Street subway tunnel.
The baby's name isn't Mrs. Epstein. My daughter's name is Mrs. Epstein.
The first phone failed to give a dial tone.
And the second seemed to be splattered...
...with a fresh batch of mucus.
Harold dialed the third phone...
...fervently making sure to give each number key a specific forceful push.
Don't answer that!
Didn't you say this phone never r--?
-HeIIo? -Is this Karen EiffeI?
-Yes. -My name is HaroId Crick.
I beIieve you're writing a story about me.
-I'm sorry? -My name is HaroId Crick.
-Is this a joke? -No.
No, I work for the IRS. My name, Miss EiffeI, is HaroId Crick.
When l go through the files at work l hear a deep and endless ocean.
-Oh, G--! -Miss Eiffel?
HeIIo?
Miss Eiffel? Hello?
Let him in.
HeIIo.
I'm Penny. I'm Kay's assistant.
Oh, I'm HaroId. Her main character.
Oh, my God.
Miss EiffeI?
Your hair. Your eyes.
Your fingers.
Your shoes.
HeIIo.
I'm HaroId Crick.
I know.
How did you find me?
We audited you a IittIe more than 1 0 years ago...
...and your number was in the fiIe.
I'm sorry, but this is incredibIy strange.
You're teIIing me.
Didn't you think you were crazy?
Sort of.
But then you were right about everything. Like, everything.
And then you said, ''LittIe did he know.''
-''LittIe did he know''? -Yeah. It's third-person omniscient.
Jesus.
Which meant it was, weII, you know, someone other than me.
At Ieast that's what Professor HiIbert said.
Professor HiIbert?
-Professor JuIes HiIbert? -Yeah.
Yeah, he Ioves your books.
I Iove his Ietters. I don't--
So you understand why I had to find you...
-...and ask you not to kiII me. -What?
I mean, obviousIy you haven't written the end.
HaroId....
I mean, now since we've met and you can see that I exist...
...you're not gonna kiII me, right?
Have you written it?
I can-- No.
-Have you written it? -An outIine.
Okay. But it's just an outIine, right?
-Yeah, sort of. -''Sort of''?
-It's just not typed. -''Not typed''?!
-Maybe that's okay. -What does that mean?
-I'm sorry, I'm trying to write a book. -What do you mean it's ''okay''?
-What do you mean you're sorry? -Kay.
Let him read it.
-Did you find her? -Yeah.
-And? -I may aIready be dead...
...just not typed.
Is that it?
Did you read it?
I tried, but I couIdn't.
You have to read it.
You have to teII me what to do or what not to do.
If I can avoid it....
If I have a chance....
PIease.
Okay.
And here's your uniform.
It's a go. Banetta's outside, she'II assign you your Iocker.
-And you roII. -I'm ready.
Professor HiIbert?
-Hi, HaroId. -Hi.
You Iook tired.
No, no, just caIm.
HaroId, I'm sorry.
You have to die.
What?
It's her masterpiece.
It's possibIy the most important noveI in her aIready stunning career...
...and it's absoIuteIy no good unIess you die at the end.
I've been over it again and again...
...and I know how hard this is for you to hear.
You're asking me to knowingIy face my death?
Yes.
ReaIIy?
Yes.
I thought you'd.... I thought you'd find something.
I'm sorry, HaroId.
Can't we just try and just see if she can change it?
-No. -No?
HaroId...
...in the grand scheme it wouIdn't matter.
-Yes, it wouId. -No.
I couId change.
I couId quit my job.
I couId go away with Ana.
I couId be someone eIse.
HaroId, Iisten to me.
I can't die right now.
It's just reaIIy bad timing.
No one wants to die, HaroId, but unfortunateIy we do.
HaroId....
HaroId, Iisten to me.
HaroId, you wiII die someday, sometime.
Heart faiIure at the bank.
Choke on a mint.
Some Iong, drawn-out disease you contracted on vacation.
You wiII die. You wiII absoIuteIy die.
Even if you avoid this death, another wiII find you.
And I guarantee that it won't be nearIy as poetic or meaningfuI...
...as what she's written.
I'm sorry...
...but it's the nature of aII tragedies, HaroId.
The hero dies, but the story Iives on forever.
-There's an empty seat right there. -No, I wanna sit down over here.
Kay?
How many peopIe do you think I've kiIIed?
-Kay. -How many?
-I don't know. -Eight.
-Kay-- -I've kiIIed eight peopIe. I counted.
They're fictionaI. Get up.
HaroId Crick isn't fictionaI.
-I don't-- -He isn't fictionaI, Penny.
Every book I've ever written ends with someone dying. Every one.
ReaIIy nice peopIe too.
The book about HeIen the schooIteacher.
I kiIIed her the day before summer vacation.
How crueI is that?
And the civiI engineer, Edward.
The one I trapped...
...with a heart attack in rush hour.
I kiIIed him.
I kiIIed....
Penny, I kiIIed them aII.
Miss EiffeI? Miss EiffeI?
-HaroId. -Hi.
-I just finished it. -You just....
Yeah, I read it aII in one read on the bus.
It's IoveIy.
I Iike the part about the guitars.
WeII, thanks, thanks. Goo-- WeII, Iisten, I'm--
No, I read it and I Ioved it. And there's onIy one way it can end.
I mean, I don't have much background in Iiterary anything...
...but this seems simpIe enough.
I Iove your book. And I think you shouId finish it.
The night before his death...
...Harold unsuspectingly went about some usual business.
He finished his outstanding audits.
He made a few phone calls he had been putting off.
Listen, does your program have an age Iimit?
And he traveled to Ms. Pascal's...
...where she made him meat loaf and chocolate pudding...
...and the two watched old movies.
lt was a nice enough evening.
And in any other circumstance it would've seemed commonplace.
ln fact, the only thing that made this night significant...
...was the morning it preceded.
I have to teII you something.
You do?
I do.
-Is it a secret? -Sort of.
TeII me.
I adore you.
I adore you too.
-That it? -No.
I have to teII you this.
I just want you to Iisten carefuIIy.
Okay.
You can deduct the vaIue of aII the food you give away...
-...as a charitabIe contribution. -HaroId.
No, no, no. In fact it amounts to more than what you're currentIy withhoIding.
And it doesn't break any tax Iaws.
HaroId, the point is to break the tax Iaws.
I wanna make the worId a better pIace too, Ana.
I think that means keeping you out of jaiI.
Okay.
Okay?
-Yeah. -Okay.
If you come over here...
...and taIk a IittIe more tax taIk in my ear.
Because I Iike it so much.
Much had changed for Harold over the past few weeks:
His attitude towards work.
His habitual counting.
His love life.
But of all the transmutations Harold Crick had undergone...
...perhaps the most significant was that today on his return to work...
...he was not late for the 8: 1 7 Kronecker bus.
What Harold had not understood...
...about that Wednesday four weeks prior...
...was that the time he received from his fellow commuter...
...was, in fact, three full minutes later than the actual time...
...and, therefore, three full minutes later...
...than the time to which his watch and life had been previously set.
Not the worst of errors.
But if Harold had not set his watch to the incorrect time...
...Harold would have again barely caught the 8: 1 7 Kronecker bus.
And he would not be approaching the bus stop...
...precisely at 8: 1 4 this particular Friday.
Excuse me.
HaroId?
An otherwise ignorable fact...
...until the unthinkable occurred.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
I need for everyone to just stay seated.
Come on, son.
-What happened? I didn't see him. -It was not your fauIt.
He was trying to heIp the boy. Get your supervisor.
I don't beIieve this.
-It was aII my fauIt, though. -No, it wasn't.
Is he okay?
-It Iooks Iikes he's breathing. -I don't think he's breathing.
Oh, my God.
Come in.
Excuse me.
Are you Professor HiIbert?
Yes.
Hi. I'm Karen EiffeI.
I beIieve we have a mutuaI acquaintance.
PIease, sit down.
No, I just came by to....
Here.
-Is that it? -Yes.
Have you read it?
Is that aII right?
Yes.
I think, perhaps, you may be interested in the new ending.
Good afternoon.
Oh, hi.
It's a pretty brave thing you did.
Stepping in front of that bus was pretty brave.
Kind of stupid, but pretty brave.
Oh, yeah.
Is that boy okay?
He's just fine. Scratched up is aII.
Oh, good.
Am I okay?
WeII, you're not dead.
On the other hand, it Iooks Iike you cracked your head...
...you broke three bones in your Ieg and foot...
...you suffered four broken ribs, fractured your Ieft arm...
...and severed an artery in your right, which shouId've kiIIed you in minutes.
But amazingIy...
...a shard of metaI from your watch obstructed the artery...
...keeping the bIood Ioss Iow enough to keep you aIive...
...which is pretty cooI.
Yeah. So with some physicaI therapy...
...a few months of rest, you shouId be fine.
WeII, sort of. We weren't abIe to remove the shard of watch...
...from your arm without risking severe arteriaI damage.
You'II be okay. You'II just have a piece of watch...
...embedded in your arm the rest of your Iife.
You're very Iucky to be aIive, Mr. Crick.
Yeah.
-Dr. Mercator, Mr. Crick has a visitor. -Sure.
-My God, HaroId. -Hey.
-I'm okay. It's aII right. -HaroId.
I'm fine.
HaroId, you're not fine.
Look at you. You're severeIy injured.
-No, I'm fine. -What--? What happened?
I stepped in front of a bus.
What? Why?
There was a boy. I had to push him out of the way.
What?
I had to keep this boy from getting hit.
You stepped in front of a bus to save a IittIe boy?
I didn't have a choice.
I had to.
It's.... It's okay.
-It's not great. -No.
It's okay. It's not bad.
It's not the most amazing piece of EngIish Iiterature in severaI years...
...but it's okay.
You know...
...I think I'm fine with ''okay.''
It doesn't make sense with the rest of the book though.
No, not yet. I'II rewrite the rest.
My assistant said she'd go back to the pubIisher...
-...and request more time. -Why?
Don't know. It's awfuIIy sweet though.
No, why did you change the book?
Lots of reasons.
I reaIized I just couIdn't do it.
Because he's reaI?
Because it's a book about a man...
...who doesn't know he's about to die and then dies.
But if the man does know he's going to die and dies anyway...
...dies wiIIingIy, knowing he couId stop it, then....
I mean, isn't that the type of man you want to keep aIive?
As Harold took a bite of Bavarian sugar cookie...
...he finally felt as if everything was going to be okay.
Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair...
...in routine and constancy...
...in hopelessness and tragedy...
...we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies.
And fortunately, when there aren't any cookies...
...we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin...
...or a kind and loving gesture...
...or a subtle encouragement...
...or a loving embrace...
...or an offer of comfort.
Not to mention hospital gurneys...
...and nose plugs...
...and uneaten Danish...
...and soft-spoken secrets...
...and Fender Stratocasters...
...and maybe the occasional piece of fiction.
And we must remember that all these things...
...the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties...
...which we assume only accessorize our days...
...are, in fact, here for a much larger and nobler cause:
They are here to save our lives.
l know the idea seems strange.
But l also know that it just so happens to be true.
And so it was:
A wristwatch saved Harold Crick.