Oz (1997–2003): Season 2, Episode 5 - Family Bizness - full transcript

With their enmity at a boiling point, Adebisi poisons Schibetta--but not fatally. Now that his brother has turned himself in for murder, Glynn no longer owes Schibetta any favors.

[bright tone]

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪

- Family!

Our families determine
who we are,

determine what we're not.

All of our relationships
with everybody we ever meet

for the rest of our lives

is based on the way we relate

to the members of our family!

No wonder
the world's so fucked up!


- Said.

I read your book.

- I don't give refunds.

- I liked it.

- [scoffs]

- Really, I did.

- Schillinger, what do you want?

- Same as you.

I see in here a man
who wants to fuck the system,

use the law against itself.

I do too.

I've been charged
with conspiracy

to commit murder.

Trial's coming up.

I fired my horseshit lawyer.

I want you to represent me.

- [laughing quietly]

- I'm serious.

Think of it.

If Kareem Said
believes I'm innocent,

a jury might too.

And if you defend a white man
with my kind of beliefs,

we'll stun Glynn and McManus.

You will rock the outside world.

You will be known as a man
who truly strives for justice,

blind to race,
unfettered by prejudice.

What do you say?

[tense percussive tones]

♪ ♪

- I'll think about it.

- Hey, yo, what the fuck
is you doing, man?

Is that my poetry
you fucking with?

Hey, what the fuck
is you doing, man?

♪ ♪

What you think,
this is a fucking joke, B?

Yo, I'll fucking break you up!

That's my word, B.

Don't fuck with my poetry.

- Girls, stop it,
you're both pretty.

Come on. Come on. Come on.

- Get the other bum out of here.

Come on, do-rag.

- This is your third incident
in as many weeks.

Clearly, I am not
getting through to you.

So as of today, our deal is off.

You're back in the kitchen
mopping floors.

- Big fucking deal.

- I'm not gonna
let you graduate.

You can still go to class,
get your diploma,

but I'm not gonna let you go
to the graduation ceremony.

- Look, my girl's coming,
and my mom's coming.

- Too bad. Call them and cancel.

♪ ♪

[gate buzzes]

You have got to stay
out of trouble.

- That fucker ripped up
my poems, man.

- Even so.

You're being published,

and so
a lot of very important people,

very famous writers,
have taken up your cause

to get your case reviewed.

We're about to go before
the parole commission.

Something like this could
screw things up completely.

Sister Peter Marie says
that you haven't been

to drug counseling lately.

I'm gonna let that slide too.

You know why?

'Cause you give this place
a good name.

You do anything
to give it a bad name

from here on out,

you don't get a second chance.

♪ ♪

- Okay.

- Prisoner #96J332.
Arnold Jackson.

Mr. Jackson,

I'll ask you questions

based upon
your pre-parole summary

and your institutional profile.

After this hearing, I will make

a written recommendation
to the parole commissioner.

Our conversation
is being recorded,

should you choose to appeal
whatever decision is reached.

Any questions?

- No.

[bell rings]

- Everybody. Everybody.

I've got some good news for you.

- You two are engaged?


- Poet has been granted parole.

- Whoa-ho!
- Man! Fuck that.

- So what do I do?
- When?

- Well,
it's an immediate release,

so that means
right after graduation.

- It's perfect timing,
since McManus and I

have chosen Poet to be
the class valedictorian.

- Valedic-what?
- Congratulations, Poet.

We wanted to share this
with you here

in order to
encourage you all.

Poet's being rewarded now,
but everybody can be.

So... work hard.

- All right, guys,
let's get started, huh?

Who knows
what valedictorian means?

- That'll be good
for McManus.

He needs
a little education himself.


In reality.

Hello, Tim.

- Governor.

What's this, Leo,
a sneak attack?

- Have a seat.
- No, thanks.

Well, what brings you down
from Mt. Olympus?

- I'll give you three clues.

G. E. D.

- The state has decided
to eliminate

the high school
equivalency program

from next year's
prison budget.

- What?

You can't do that.

This program is working.
With time!

- Well, we don't have time.

Plain and simple,
we need more COs,

and the budget
can't handle both.

- We would need less COs

if there were fewer prisoners,

which is exactly
what's happening

with education programs
like ours, Governor!

- I'm holding a press conference
on the 15th

to announce the budget.

Until then, this information
is not to leave the room.

- The 15th.

That's three days
after the students graduate.

- Yeah, I planned it that way,

so the ceremony
wouldn't be affected.

- Oh, so you're coming
to the graduation ceremony?

- Unfortunately, yes.

The wages of spin.

- I don't want
a big production or anything.

It's just gonna distract
the inmates.

- Just the cameraman and myself,
that's all.

The local news ain't Hollywood.

At least not yet.

- Now, how long will this story
be on the air?

- It depends
on whatever else is happening.

Forty-five seconds.
Three minutes.

- I want three minutes.

These men have worked hard.
They deserve the recognition.

I want your viewers to know

that something good's
coming out of Oz.

All right, see you on the 12th.

- Okay.

[gate buzzes]


- Governor Devlin.
Warden Glynn.

Graduates. Families. Friends.

It is with great pride
that I stand before you now

to mark not only
the academic achievement

of the individuals
we are here to honor,

but also
the communal victory

to which every person
in this room has contributed.

These students have taught me
that the GED diploma

is only part
of a much larger goal,

to change one's life
and never look back.


So, it is with great sorrow
that I tell you

this could be the last year
of education at Oswald.

In the new budget
that will soon be considered

by our legislature,

the equivalency program
will be terminated.

This tragic decision
won't affect today's graduates,

but their dedication
and hard work have left a legacy

which inevitably will disappear.

In the immortal words
of Chuck D,

"Don't believe the hype."


I'd like to introduce
our class valedictorian,

Arnold "Poet" Jackson.

[cheers and applause]

- Too many prisons
and not enough schools.

Too many weapons
and not enough tools.

Not enough teachers.
Too many fools.

But me?
I'm from where fights is born.

I'm from
where nights is dawned.

I'm from the ingredients
spit from the sun.

I've formed an allegiance
with the number one,

the letter "A,"

the beginning of the day,

the way, the wisdom,
the wish, the will,

the river, the tree,
the trial, the trek,

the rub of the neck...

The ball of the foot.

The back of the thigh.

The glimmer of the eye peered
and what it's intrigued by.

Tried by what it's believed by.

I have taken on
the likeness of love,

the harbor of hate,
the hell of here,

and the wonder
of the whereafter.

I've discerned the disaster

and drank Dom Pérignon

and Armageddon.

I have drank
the sacred ambrosia

housed in the chalice
of the rebellious cherubim,

disguised as quarter juices.

I've died toothless

and been reborn 144,000 times.

I've got 144,000 rhymes
for every brain cell.

But I waste away in a cell.

Thank you.


- Ladies and gentlemen,
I present to you

the graduating class of 1998.

[cheers and applause]

Luis Batista.

Arnold "Poet" Jackson.

[cheers and applause]

Timmy Kirk.

[cheers and applause]

- Nice ceremony, huh, Governor?

How come you didn't hang around
for the cake and coffee?

- Oh, McManus, McManus, McManus.

You think
you're so goddamn clever.

Bring me here.
Embarrass me publicly.

- That was pretty much
the idea, yeah.

- Well, you think
I'm vulnerable, right?

What with my wife walking out,

all the corruption charges,

not to mention
the drop I took in the polls

after sending in a SORT team
during the riots.

I saved your ass in the process,
I might add.

You figure I can't take
any more heat, right?

- I'm a simple man
with a simple plan.

- Yes, and I'm not.

A year ago, my enemies thought
by now I'd be impeached

because, like you,

they underestimate me
and the voters.

See, the voters and I
have a love-hate relationship.

They know I'm a bully.

They suspect I'm dishonest.

They, uh, they even assume
I cheated on my wife,

but... crime is down.

Taxes are down.

Employment, however, is up.

Median incomes, up, up, up.

The Knights made it
into the playoffs.

Even the ballet is thriving,

and as for education,

we now have
the second-highest literacy rate

in the U.S. of A.,
so do you seriously think

that John and Jane Q. Public
give a shit

that some drugged-out homeboy
is gonna get a diploma,

that their own little darlings

are going to Yale?

[tense percussive tones]

Enjoy that coffee and cake.

♪ ♪

- You see what I'm saying?

People move the way that they do

'cause they're still working out
some shit with their fathers!

They're still pissed
at their mothers

for not potty training them

shit like that.

People want to get back
at their parents

for making them be born.

Bad baby!

- Yo. What's up?

- What you want, Wangler?

- Leaving today?

- Yeah, I'm leaving today.

- Yeah.

- You want something or not?

- Yo, man, I heard your poem
at the graduation, man.

I liked what you said.

- Yeah, yeah.

- Yo, Poet, man,
I know I've been giving you

a lot of shit lately,

you know, calling you a faggot,

talk about your poetry
and everything, yo.

- Yeah.

- But, yo, you good, man,
you real good.

- Thanks, man.

Uh, you know, it's kinda--
it's kinda fucked up,

you know, you not being able
to graduate and all.

- Yeah, man, I know.
Fucking McManus.

I had to call my girl
and explain.

- Yeah.

- Yeah. I didn't even have
the heart to call my moms, man.

You know, she's been
so proud of me lately,

learning to read
and school and all this shit.

- Yeah.

- And I broke her heart
so many fucking times.

- Yeah.

- That's why, you know,
I was wondering if,

before you jet,
you could write me a letter

to her, you know,

tell her
I'm sorry for... all of this.

- You know
how to write a letter, B.

- No, no, I mean...
see, you got the words.

I don't--
I don't have the words.

You know, the vocabulary.


There's a trade.

- Yeah.

All right.

[tense percussive tones]

♪ ♪

- You packed?

- No, I decided
I didn't want to take anything

out of this place, man.

- So no last meal.
No good-byes to anybody.

"See ya. Have a nice life."

- You know,
it's kind of fucked up, leaving.

A little.

Everybody else is staying.

You know, it's like waking up
from a dream.

- Hope is a waking dream.

- Who that, Mohammed?
- Aristotle.

- Well, that fucker ain't
never served no time in Oz.

- Poet,
your mother's here to meet you.

- All right.

I want to thank you.


- As-salaam alaikum, brother.

[tense percussive tones]

♪ ♪

- Hey, Shirley.

You know
you're the prettiest girl

on death row?

[gate buzzes]

- Hello, Shirley.

- Thank you for coming.

- If you hadn't asked,
I would have anyway.

♪ ♪

- I never was much for
any kind of religion.

I was baptized Lutheran.
Went to Quaker school.

My first husband was a Jew.

My second was a whatcha-dinghy.

- A "whatcha-dinghy"?

- You know, when you don't
believe in anything?

- An atheist.
- Yeah.

- Are you an atheist?

- I'm not sure.

Ever since the accident,

I've been full up
with all sorts of feelings.

- The accident?

- When my daughter died.

Save me.

- You want to be saved?
- I want you to save me.

- From what? From hell?

From lethal injection?

- That collar looks so stiff.

Why don't you take it off?

- No.

[tense percussive tones]

Stop it.


- Look at me.

I'm so fucked up.


I'm sorry, I'm...

[sobbing continues]

- In Oz,

you don't get to see
much of your real family,

your blood relatives.

the things you do inside,

you do for them,
to keep them alive,

to keep them around you...

even if only in your head.

[mechanism rattles]

- Well, look who's here.

What brings you down
to the low-rent district?

- Hey, just because
you're not in Em City anymore

doesn't mean I don't care
what's going on with you.

[mechanism rattling]

- Bull-fucking-shit.
- [laughs]

- McManus, I had to listen
to your sanctimonious crap

when I lived in Em City.

But I don't have to now.


- All right,
I don't care how you're doing.

- Hey, boys. Honesty.
- [laughs]

- I want to talk to you
about your accusation

that Officer Whittlesey
shot Scott Ross

during the riot.

- Accusation?

I saw Whittlesey kill Ross.

- Well...

I want you
to tell me everything,

all the details.

- Why? You hacks
just protect each other.

[mechanism rattles]

All you're gonna do
is bury the truth.

[tense percussive tones]

- Not this time.

[indistinct chatter]

♪ ♪

- Oh, Tim. Hey.

Uh, my daughter's in town.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.

You know,
my mom's in the hospital,

so she hasn't been able
to take care of her,

and I have this friend, Janice,
who also has a daughter,

and she lives
a couple blocks from here,

so she's been helping me out
a couple of days a week,

watching DeeDee.

- That's good.

- You had said
that you wanted to meet her,

and I had told her
so much about you.

I was wondering if you wanted
to get dinner tonight.

Just the three of us.

My treat.

- Okay.

- Okay.

♪ ♪

- This goddamn
motherfucking piece of shit!

Is there anything

in this fucking cum stain
of a building

that works?

- Rick, relax.

It's a soda machine there, pal.

- It-It ate my dollar.

- Well, uh, there's a number
on the side there you can call.

- Well, fuck that!

- You feel better?
- [sighs]

Yes, much.

Much better.

- I can't come to poker tonight.

- Fuck, why?

- I promised Diane
I would go to have dinner

with her and her kid.

- Man, you and she.
On again, off again.

- We're definitely off again.

- How come?

Timmy, boy, you have got to be
the most transparent man

on God's green earth.

- What?

- You started
shying away from her

ever since the riot,

ever since that bitch Case
and his commission

started sniffing around.

- No, she came to see me
in the hospital.

She was actually very helpful.

- So? What happened?

- Forget it.

- Hey, Tim, how long
we known each other, huh?

You-You don't trust me?

- All right.

I read the commission's report

about 100 times.

I may be nuts, but I don't think

Scott Ross died
the way it says he did.

I think...

that he was murdered.

- No shit.
- By Diane.

- Tim, come on.
- I know.

- You got proof?

- No, only Schillinger's word.

He says he saw her do it.

- Fuck Schillinger.

- Yeah, well,

when I asked Diane about it,
she lied to me.

- How do you know?

- You sleep with someone,
you know.

Gotta go.

- Yeah. Hey, Joey.
Is, uh, Diane there?

[tense percussive tones]

♪ ♪

- Diane?

- Yeah.

- Are you ready?

- Just about.

Tim, I gotta be blunt.

I know you have doubts

about what really happened
to Scott Ross.

Do you remember
the look in his eyes

when he fired that gun at you?

- Yeah.

- Do you remember anything
of what happened next?

- I've tried to. I can't.

- I don't remember much myself,
it all happened so fast.

I do know
that I did what I did

because he shot you.

He wanted you dead.

- And that justifies it?

- Yes.

- If I agree with you,

it goes against
everything I believe in,

every principle I stand for.

- I'm not asking you
to compromise yourself.

I'm just saying
we don't all live

in the same world as you.

For most of us,

what has to be done
matters more--

[door handle shuffles]
Than what should be done.

- There's your mommy.
- Hey, sweetie.

This is DeeDee.

♪ ♪

Do you still want to get dinner?

- No.

♪ ♪

- Hello, Augustus.

- Yo, yo, yo-yos.

Now, that's what I call dirty.

- Clean it up.

- Confess, fellas.

- Can you keep a secret?
- Of course he can.

- The question is, do I want to?

- What would you like in return?

- Wash my clothes for a month.

- A week.
- Three.

- Two.
- And a half.

- Done.

Busmalis and I are
digging a tunnel.

- An escape tunnel.
- Shh!

- [laughs]
- Sorry.

- When we first got back
to Em City,

you said
you was gonna dig your way out.

I thought
you was just bullshitting.

- I know it sounds crazy.
- No, no!

- But it can be done.
- Oh!

- We take turns at night.

During the day,
we put the floor tiles back.

- And then
you get rid of the dirt

by washing the clothes, right?

- Yeah, that was Rebadow's idea.
- [laughing] All right.

- Would you like to join us?
- Me?

This hole gonna have
handicap access?

[laughs] Just...
Your secret's safe with me.

Bottom. Middle.

Make sure you fold my clothes

when you take them
out of the dryer.


[tense percussive tones]

♪ ♪

- Rumor has it
you're planning to kill Adebisi.

- You shouldn't listen
to rumors.

- Don't play games with me.

I'm warning you.

If anything happens to Adebisi,

I'm coming after you.

- Who's playing games?

I keep reminding you,
you owe me.

You owe me large.

- You think you can hold that
over my head forever?

- Forever, or for as long

as we're in this
fucking zoo together.

You know what
I appreciate about you?

You're a family man.

You like your job,
but you love your family.

Looks like we have
nothing to talk about.

- Officer.

[tense percussive tones]

♪ ♪

[gate buzzes]

- Older brothers.

Older brothers
get to fuck up first,

break in the folks.

- What's going on,
little brother?

- Hey, Mark.

Come. Sit down.

- Uh-oh.
- What?

- You got
your deep baritone going.

That means some kind of shit
has hit some sort of fan.

- It's Schibetta.

I can't keep protecting you.

- What'd he say?

- Nothing new.

Either he gets what he wants
or you go to jail.

- Fucking guinea motherfucker.

- He's not to blame.

You are.

- Here we go. The lecture.

- This is not--
- I told you, man.

I didn't mean to kill nobody.

- Ugh!

- I was just trying to make
some fucking money for rent.

- What are you doing?

Please, no!


- Gisante said shoot,
so I shoot.

- Look,
you fired the gun, period!

Now Schibetta's boys
are holding on to it

for leverage.

You gotta turn yourself in.

- What?

You fucking kidding me?

- Look, you have to, Mark.

You killed a man.

- You gonna let
your own brother burn

so you can run your prison?

- Are you gonna make
your brother pay for your crime?

Now, I am living a lie.

- I could get the death penalty.

♪ ♪

- I keep protecting you.

Who knows how far
Schibetta could take this?

How many more people will die?

- Oh, sorry, Leo.

He said shoot.

Please, don't do this to me.

- You did it to yourself, Mark.

you have to turn yourself in.

I'll go with you
if you want...

but you got to turn yourself in.

- Hey, I spread this rat poison
all over the place.

- You should have
used the traps.

Now the rats crawl into
the fucking walls to die.

- We'll smell the stench
for a fucking week.

- Not that you notice anything
that smells bad, Adebisi.

- Little Nino...

when you say things
like that, it hurts.

I just want to be friends.

- Friends, huh?

Okay, pal of mine,

how's about you go get me
a chocolate bar?

- My pleasure.

No problem.


- Yo, I've been thinking
about your offer,

about taking out Schibetta.

- So you'll do it?
- No.

But it don't mean me and you
still can't do business.

Listen, I got
a little slice of news for you

that might be helpful.

Schibetta has something
on the warden.

I don't know
what it is, all right,

but I got a funny feeling

the warden would not mind
if the wop took a hit.

- I kill him,
they still have to investigate.

- No, no, no, no--
what you gotta do is,

you gotta slow down Schibetta.

Let Glynn sweep the dirt
underneath the fucking rug.

- Hey, papi.

You and me...

We could tango.

[tense percussive tones]

- You know,
I've been taking dance lessons,

just in case you asked me.

Here, baby.

♪ ♪

A little more.
A little more.

- What happened?

- Schibetta was brought in
vomiting and pissing blood.

My guess is he was poisoned.

- Christ.

- I want Adebisi.

I want you
to deliver Adebisi to me.

- No.
- No?

- No!

If Adebisi did this,
I'll punish him, not you.

- Leo.
- Don't call me Leo.

- Is that a threat or a joke?

- My brother is turning
himself in.

You and I are done.


- Hey, Warden, what brings you
to the kitchen?

- Schibetta's gone.
You guys are out.

- With or without Schibetta,
we run the kitchen.

- Wrong.

You boys have been reassigned.

The dress factory.

- The dress factory?
That's bullshit.

I ain't going to no dress--

See you real soon.

- Make me a dress, bitch.


A little poison,
and all the rats are gone.

- If I can prove
you hurt Schibetta,

you're gone too.

- The Jackson Five.

The Kennedy brothers.

The Marx brothers.

[horn honks]

When brothers work together,

amazing shit happens.

When they don't... life sucks.

- It's gonna cost you 10 bucks
to get in there.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.

You fuck!
You broke my fucking nose!

- All right, yo,
you just wait over there.

The doctor will be
with you soon.

- What are you doing here?

- I'm checking my broken nose.


- Sorry about that.

- Yeah, right.

- Well, I'm getting
this baby off.

My arm's finally healed.

- What makes you think
I give two shits, huh?

- Hey, I said I was sorry
about breaking your nose,

but fighting you
had to look real

or Beecher would have guessed
we were in cahoots.

I owe you.

- Yeah, well, Schillinger says
we have to work together.

Let me tell ya,
after Beecher's dead,

you and me,
we got a score to settle.

- Any time you want,
day or night, baby.

- Okay, Keller.

- He's all yours.
- Give me your arm.

- [scoffs]


So you never wrestled before.

- Well, like, once
in high school.

Arthur Weiner got his leg
broken by Pat Lefkofsky.

I heard that snap--
I got up, I got out.

- We'll make sure
nothing of yours snaps.

All right, square yourself up.

Put your strong leg back.

- Which is my strong leg?

- I don't know.
I guess we'll figure that out.

All right, the key is
to grab the other guy's waist,

pull him on top of you,

and then spin him around
at the last second

so you can pin him, all right?

- Uh-huh.
- Let's go.

Let's go. Balance.

- Ow! You grabbed my neck!

- Oh yeah, I forgot
to tell you about that one.

Let's try it again.

- Slowly.

[both grunting]

- Hey, that was good.

- You're letting me win.
- No, I'm not.

- Yeah, you are.
You fucking are.

- Well, I'll tell you what--
next time, I won't.

- Yeah, come on.

[tense percussive tones]

♪ ♪

Come on. Let's go again.

- Yeah.

♪ ♪

You know
this is a stupid-ass game.

- Will you just give it
a chance?

- Okay.
- Um, you can't do that.

- That's what I'm talking about.
Too many fucking rules.

- There's no castle in check.

And like wrestling
doesn't have too many?

- Okay.

That's my move.

- Beecher.

I need to talk to you.

- Uh-oh.
What'd you do wrong?

- Nothing.

If you do something wrong,

you're summoned
to McManus' office.

He comes to deliver bad news.

What's up?

- Are you sure
you want me to do this

in front of him?

- [laughs]


- Your wife.

She died.


[suspenseful music]

- She, uh, killed herself.

- God Almighty.


- Asphyxiation. She, uh,
she locked herself

in the garage--
she left the car running.

- And the kids?

- They're fine.

- Where are my kids?

- They're with your family.

- I want to see my kids.

- I arranged
for a visit tomorrow.

- Okay.

- Beecher, I'm sorry.

If there's anything I can do...

- Did Genevieve leave a note?

- I don't know.

- Yeah, well,
I bet she left a note.

- I'll try to find out.

[tense percussive tones]

♪ ♪

- You want to play
some more chess?

You want to go wrestle?

Want me to leave you
the fuck alone?

- Oh, man.
- I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Look, you want to cry,
you go ahead, man.

No one's watching.

♪ ♪

It's cool.

It's cool.

- Mail call!


Got something here for you.

Stationery from Cartier.


I heard your wife offed herself.


♪ ♪

- What's the matter?
- Sweet Jesus.

It's from Genevieve.

She says that I did it,

that I killed her
just like that little girl.

♪ ♪

- Toby.

- Where are they?

- In the playroom.

Toby? Toby, wait.


- What, Grandmother?

- They're the ones
that found her.

- [sighs]

- So go slowly.

They haven't seen you
in more than a year.

And-And this place...

I'm just not sure
we should have come this soon.

They're still in shock.

- You don't want me
to see them?

- Not that.
It's not. No.

Just not this way, not yet.

Not now.

[cymbal shimmering]

[birds chirping]

- I understand.

Take them home, Grandmother.

- Oh, Toby.
- Get them the fuck out of here!

[Tobias sobbing]

- Beecher, what's the matter?

- I-I fucked up my life.

I have completely fucked up
my life.

I'm all alone.

- No, you're not.

No. No, you're not, man.

No, you're not.

It's all right.

It's all right.

- Don't fucking touch me!

- Husbands and wives.

Man. [laughs]

We come into this world
looking for unconditional love

from our parents,
and when we don't get it,

we find someone, anyone,
and we marry them.

And we spend
the rest of our lives together

beating the shit out
of each other

trying to prove
that we didn't deserve

unconditional love
in the first place.

In a marriage,
you pay for crimes

you never committed... bitch.

- What? Motherfucker!

- My car just hissed at me.

There's steam coming
out of the engine.

Can you give me
a ride to the rectory?


- Oh. Oh, hi.
Hi, Ray.

- Oh, you're working.
I'm sorry.

- No, no, no, no.
Come on in.

Come on in.
Maybe you can...


These are the words

that William Giles
has been saying to me

over and over and over again.

- What do they mean?
- I don't have a clue.

I've tried everything that I can
to-to get him to open up,

but... so I thought
that if I just write 'em out,

maybe I can see a connection.

- Amore means love.
- Yeah.

- Sick love?
- I tried that.

- Sick amore.
Sick amore.


- Street.

♪ ♪

Sycamore Street.

Broome Street.

Sycamore Street.
Broome Street.

- Sycamore and Broome.

What the hell happened
on Sycamore and Broome?

- It's the corner
where my husband was killed.

Open Giles' cell.

- Sister, I can't do that.
- Open it.

- Warden Glynn gave me
specific instructions

not to let you in
unless Giles is manacled.

- I don't have time to wait.

- But sister, I--

- Listen to the sound
of my voice.

Let me in.

Did-Did you murder my husband?

Is that what you've been trying
to tell me?

Is this confession
by Morse code?

- No. No.

- Then what? What?

- Peter. Peter Marie.
- Oh, no, please.

Please don't start that stuff
with me again.

Just... look, my husband died
on the corner

of Sycamore and Broome, right?

Somebody pushed him
off the back of a truck.

Did you do it?

- No.


- Eyes?

You saw Leonard get pushed?

- Yoh-za.

- Right. So, what happened?

- Pop. Crackle.


- Yeah.
Yes, his neck was broken.

But what happened before that?

Who pushed him?

Oh, please, please.

Please. William, who pushed him?

- Aim.
- Aim?

What do you mean by aim?

- Aim.
- What is aim?

- Aim.
- Tell me.

- Aim! Aim, aim, aim!

Aim! Aim! Aim! Aim!

- Because we share
the same blood with our family,

we can ask them to do anything,

lie, cheat, take a bullet.

Only don't ask
to borrow the new Lexus,

'cause then, my man,
you are crossing the line.

[circusy whistling]

- O'Reilly.

- Oh, did you get it?


- Let me see the Benny first.

- Here.

- You know, I can understand

paying this type of money
for tits,

but for that?

Hey, what the fuck
kind of scam are you up to?

- No scam.

- So why you have me steal it?

- Because it's hers.

- Yeah. It's Nathan's, right?
- Yeah.

- Okay.
- What?

- I didn't know better,
I'd say you're in love.

- What,
is that so hard to believe, huh?

Me in love?

- Yeah, you, me, anybody.

Not in Oz, man.

- Oh, you're wrong.

[phone rings]

- Dr. Nathan.

- Hi.

- What do you want?

- I, uh, I was wondering why...

you weren't there
for my latest dose of chemo.

- No, I don't need to be there.

The nurse is qualified
to do the procedure.

- Look, this, um, this chemo's
making me pretty sick,

and I think I need a checkup.

- Fine, I'll arrange
for Dr. Prestopnik

to see you this afternoon.

- No, but I, um, I want you
to take care of me.

- I'm busy.
- Doing what?

- That's not your business.

I'm hanging up.

- No, no, no. Don't be angry.
- I'm not.

You-You got to stop
calling me all the time.

- Okay.
- I'm hanging up.

- Uh, hold on a second.

♪ ♪


I love you.

Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello?

- Good-bye.

- What was that all about?

- Ryan O'Reilly.

He calls me 10 times a day.

He... writes me letters.

- Love letters?

- He's starting to creep me out.

- Gloria, you haven't...

you haven't been
encouraging him,

have you?

- No.

- Okay. Okay.

I'm just asking
because a few weeks ago

you said that, uh,
you were attracted to him.

- I know,
but I didn't do anything.

I didn't say anything.

I was just being a good doctor.

I swear.

- Do you want me to have
a chat with him?

- If you think it'll help.

- Can't hurt.

You mind if I read these?

Hey, Ryan.
Come on in. Sit down.

So, how are you feeling?

- Some days are better
than others.

- Well, I'm not surprised.

What you've been through
these last few weeks--

breast cancer, surgery, chemo--

these things are difficult
to adjust to.

- I manage.

- What I mean is,
your life was in danger

just a short time ago,

and now
your chances for recovery

are excellent.

So that all the fear
that you experienced

has to be replaced
by something else.

You know?

Other emotions...

like your feelings
for Dr. Nathan.

You seem to have been focusing
a lot on her lately.

- She saved my fucking life.
- Well, sure, of course, but...

it's very easy to mistake
appreciation for affection.

- You're saying
what I'm feeling isn't real?

- Oh, no, no, no,
I'm sure it is for you.

But-But for Dr. Nathan,
it's, um...

well, she has
a different perspective.

And if you care for her, Ryan,

you have to respect that.

You should stop writing.

Stop calling.

♪ ♪

- Sometimes,
I just need to hear her voice.

- Yeah, I understand,

but she doesn't want
to hear yours.

♪ ♪

Ryan, love--
true love--

is reciprocal.

Both people have to care
for each other equally,

and when half of that equation
is missing--

listen to me--
when half that equation

is missing,
it's no longer love.

It's obsession.

- No. No, you're wrong.

What I feel for her is--
is the truest,

best thing I've ever had
in my whole fucking life.

And you're not gonna
take it away from me.

- That was not--
- What?

Is she too good for me?

No, you know what?

♪ ♪

You tell her this.

I love her. Mm?

She can send me
to a thousand shrinks,

she can drop me into the Hole
for a million years,

and there's nothing she can do

to ever change the way
I feel about her!

Got it?


You dated her, didn't you?

- She's married, Ryan,
and so are you.

- Did you fuck her? Huh?

Did you fuck her, McManus?
Was she good?

- You have got to stop!
- I can't!

♪ ♪

You gotta do this for me, Cyril.

- But it's bad.

Man, you told me
not to be bad anymore.

- Do this.

One time, for me.

- Okay.

Well, I love you, bro.

- I love you too.

- Hey, you wanted to see me?

- Yes, have a seat.

We just got word
from the state police.

They found a body.

They think it's your husband's.

- My husband?

- He was murdered.

- Oh, my God.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

- Every once in a while,

I remember something I did
when I was a child...

or something that was done to me
by my father

or my brother or a cousin,

some injury, some humiliation,

and it seems like
it happened to another person

a century or two ago.

I'm not really sure
if what I remember

really took place at all.

You can't build your life

relying on the perception
of a little boy,

on the echoes of some memory.

No. You got to let
all that shit go.

You got to start fresh.

Every single day,

you have got to start again.

[heart beating]

[tense jazzy music]

♪ ♪