word! Spooks!
Spooks! It's unbelievable.
Let me tell you something, Nathan.
My father was a
saloonkeeper in New Jersey.
Yeah, he was the only Jewish
saloonkeeper in East Orange.
He only got as far as
the seventh grade.
But he insisted on
the precision of words.
And I have kept faith with him.
I have kept faith with him.
If you don't mind a suggestion
maybe you ought to write
this book yourself.
Yeah.
Maybe I ought to.
Yeah.
I guess I ought to go.
Let me ask you something
Why are you hiding out here,
in the middle of the woods?
- Hiding out?
- Yeah. Isn't that what you're doing?
What's the moment
called in Greek tragedy,
you know, the one where the hero
learns that everything he knows is wrong?
It's called peripeteio or peripetia.
Take your choice.
Yeah. That's me.
Hey. You by any chance
play gin rummy?
And this was how my friendship
with Coleman Silk began.
And how I came out from
my reclusive life,
living alone in
a cabin by a lake.
You're divorced, huh?
Does it show?
Yeah, you have the look about
you of a man at loose ends.
Takes one to know one.
Why did your wife leave you?
Which one?
The first or the second?
Several years ago,
I had been diagnosed
with prostate cancer.
Although the treatment
was successful,
I had nevertheless withdrawn
to my cabin in the woods,
away from the expectations and
entanglements of modern life.
In the year that
followed my meeting Coleman,
the time it took him
to write his book,
we had dinner together
several times a week.
Sometimes playing penny
a point gin rummy,
sometimes listening to music that came
from a small FM station in Springfield
that played big band hits from
the forties and fifties.
It was during that time
that Coleman dragged me back to life,
much as he had Athena College.
- What's with the book?
- The book has come and gone.
- Meaning?
- Meaning it's worthless.
Yeah.
You can't make a college
without breaking eggheads,
and, I couldn't write
a book called Spooks
that didn't sound like
the ravings of a lunatic.
So... all this is useless.
Unless you count the dubious thrill
of re-reading old love letters.
Who's the girl?
- That's Steena Paulsson.
- Very pretty.
- Yeah.
- This you?
Yeah, that's me.
I met her
when I was at N.Y.U.
And, it was in 1948 and I was on
the GI Bill with the Navy behind me.
At that time I used to live
in the Village in those days,
and I used to go into the library.
It was just like fishing. I'd go into
the stacks and come out with a girl.
Steena Paulsson.
Yeah, I almost married her.
Hi.
Hi.
This book will
change your life, I promise.
I can't stay long.
Come on in. Just take me
a minute to find it.
Oh, this is beautiful.
I have two roommates
and we live in this dungeon at the bottom
of an air shaft on West 26th Street.
- Would you like some coffee?
- No. Thank you. I should get back.
It's just one cup.
That's all, I promise.
And the, uh, the library
stays open until ten.
- Sure. Why not?
- Good.
- How do you take it?
- Black is fine, thanks.
- So "Steena Paulsson." That's,
- what is that Swedish?
Close.
It's Danish and Icelandic.
- So you're not from New York?
- How could you tell?
Fergus Falls, Minnesota.
Well Miss Steena Paulsson
from Fergus Falls, Minnesota
this is my gift for you.
Tender is the Night.
F. Scott Fitzgerald.
He's from the Midwest, too.
Thank you.
You're welcome.
The coffee?
Coffee.
What happened?
- To what?
- The cut over your eye.
Oh uh, boxing.
It's just a hobby.
You like that sort of thing?
Yes, I do.
I mean, don't get the wrong idea.
It's not about strength.
It's really all about
how smart you are.
Are you smart. Miss Paulsson?
What do you think, Mr. Silk?
I think you'd make a great boxer.
Good answer.
Well, come on.
Let's see.
- See what?
- Show me.
- Show you what?
- Show me how good you are.
Okay.
- Okay. You're right-handed?
- Yes.
All right. Put your left leg forward,
your