Treme (2010–2013): Season 2, Episode 6 - Feels Like Rain - full transcript

Hidalgo does a favor for Councilman Oliver Thomas; Antoine appoints a straw boss; Janette learns that Jacques is in trouble; Sofia has a realization; John Hiatt and Henry Butler perform.


I didn't know you were here. Coffee?

Had some on the plane.
I love the new place.

I wasn't sure you would.

You look great.

Did you cut your hair?

You took down my Les Blank poster.

We've been meaning
to come and see you,

but Sofia's been so busy
with her new school.

Believe me, I get it.

You haven't told her
about the thingamahoogie.

I thought I'd wait...

for the right moment.

Hawaii must be beautiful.

Hawaii? I haven't been in Hawaii.

- I thought...
- Didn't you get my letter?


- I missed you so much.
- I missed you too, sweet pea.

- Mama.
- Look at you.

- Like it?
- It's beautiful.

You made it?

Let's go.
Catch Pete if we hustle.

Where are we going?


I don't even have a costume.


Our national anthem.

Satin Doll.

That would have been
my second choice.

Let's go.

I'm-a finish what I started,
but I am done with all that.

Done and done.

You ready?

Let me grab my keys.

Done with all what, Daddy?

You already know.

You ain't missed a Mardi Gras day
since you could walk.

I did last year.

Jail doesn't count.

Taught me something.

Just another Tuesday
I can live without.

- See, I don't believe that, Daddy.
- Well, you do.

You and your brother
and your sister -

y'all do fine without.

We aren't a big chief.

Neither am I. Not no more.

I'm retired as soon as I finish this here.

Look at you saying all that
while you sew.

Your brother's gonna miss his plane.

- What are you gonna do with the suit?
- I'm gonna give it to Ronnie.

He broke down his last year
so we could come out pretty for St Joe's.

- George said Ronnie was sewing.
- Well, I'll give it to you then.

I know you ain't sewing.

I'm sewing.

You going out this year, Del?

- If he does.
- Don't play with me, boy.

I see right through that.
I invented that shit.

It's a ticket.

Houston to New York.

I see it's a ticket.

I'm wondering why.

Come up for a couple days,
help me finish.

You're almost done.
I'm sure you need a couple things too.

I don't need nothing.

All right, you don't need nothing.
I could use your help.

You go up day after tomorrow,
you'll be back Monday.

Well, take care.

Well, he didn't exactly say no.

He ain't give the ticket back either.

I'll work on him.

The glory that was Rome.

Come on, man. Sousaphone line,
look at where you're standing.

People, we're not gonna be doing
any Mardi Gras parades this season

if we can't do any better than this.

We cannot be as good as.
You must be better than.

- Dr Frasor, can I get with you a minute?
- There's gonna be a lot of people out.

My cousin called me.
She has a boy at John Mac, ninth grade.

Desiree, let me stop you right there.

She's about to lose her mind 'cause of
what's going on in that school.

I know John Mac had security problems
last fall, but I heard things had gotten better.

He's scared to go to school in the morning
and my cousin is scared to send him.

We are over capacity right now.

If they don't get him
into a better situation,

my cousin's gonna have to
pack and go to Houston.

That might be the best thing, you know.

I hate to say that,
but I just can't make an exception.

I'm sorry, Desiree. I'm sorry.

Are we even doing Mardi Gras?

Man, please.

Not everybody got instruments.
And we ain't got uniforms either.

Max Band wore windbreakers last year.

We could do that - those of us
who have instruments.

It's not even about that. Even if we had
instruments or uniforms, we're not ready,

not this year.

Shit, I was born ready.

Watch your language, son.

Why are we coming to band class
if we ain't a band?

We're a band,
just not ready for Mardi Gras this year.

But if you work hard,
maybe next year.

Y'all come to class to learn music, right? Well,
a part of learning to play is listening to players.

Go ahead and play it, Mr. Batiste.

See, now that is jazz music
being invented right there.

Man, I could play them notes.

Maybe not like he plays them,
but you write that down on paper,

let me take it home,
I'll come back and play all those notes.

Yeah? But would you?

I mean, would you play them if they weren't
written down right in front of you,

if you couldn't take it home
and practice all night long?

The man is playing his heart right there.
He's not reading notes off a piece of paper.

He's writing them as he plays, with a feel,

in the moment.

Now that's jazz.

That's improvisation.

That's genius.

And we invented that in New Orleans,
right here.

Close your eyes.


Suddenly everything makes sense...

the looks, the whispers.

We thought you knew, Sof.

We felt bad for you.

Did everybody know?

Pretty much.


I was so stupid.

You never said anything.

I figured if you wanted
to talk about it, you would.

It's not exactly something
to just bring up, you know?

I guess not.

Ode to joy.
There she is - Mama Liar.

See you, Jocelyn.

Bye, Sof.

You know, this would be
so much easier on the violin.

My other song was so good.

If only little Bobby Z
hadn't gotten there first.

You know what?
Fuck it. I give up.

I'm just a player.

And that's OK.

You haven't even hardly tried yet.

You gotta keep at it until you bleed.

I'm bleeding.

- You ain't bleeding, not yet.
- I'm bleeding.

It's all right, Ma,
I'm only bleeding.

How about that for a title?
I'll give it to you for free.

Henry Butler,
ladies and gentlemen.

Henry Butler.

Glad to see you home, Henry.

It's good to be home.

Right here. Right here.

Good to be home.

What you mean, politics?

I mean, we write the world we know.

We get out there
in the middle of the argument.

Which argument now?

The one about the city.

Where we've been,
where we are now,

where we're going if
we don't stop and think.

Man, Davis, I rhyme what I know.

Exactly. That's always the way.

And I know the Calliope and coming up
in New Orleans, but that's all I got.

Hold on.

Where'd y'all get the po' boys?

Captain Sal's.

Captain Sal's? The truth?

You ever listen to Public Enemy?

I heard 'em, yeah. My uncle used to be
into that ol' Def Jam shit.

Go back through this stuff, brah.

It's the great untraveled road of hip-hop -

political rage,
righteous empowerment,

standing tall amid a wasteland of
gangsta posing.

Then The Clash...

London Calling, Sandinista!

They're a thrash band or something.
I don't dig metal, man.

No, not for the songwriting.

Strummer was kind of a flawed vehicle.

But for the stance, man, the attitude!

The mother lode.

Woody Guthrie.

Don't let the first couple verses of
This Land Is Your Land fool you.

That is one really angry
white boy right there.

Beginning of a journey, brah.

- Where's y'all bathroom?
- Straight back.

Are you serious?

Darling, New Orleans has
enough dance music.

Times being what they are
in this sad, fractured town,

it's the hour to fight the power.

With this kid and Woody Guthrie's
Smithsonian recordings?

Phil Ochs said that what
America desperately needed

was a pop star with
the looks of Elvis Presley

and the soul of Che Guevara.

You think he's the one?

I know it.

Who's Phil Ochs?

- See you, man.
- See you, man.

- There you go.
- Thank you, man.

- When's Cornell coming back?
- He didn't tell you?

- No.
- He didn't tell me neither.

- Man.
- Great to see you, Henry.

All right, Porter.
See you on Friday, man.

- All right.
- All right.

- What's Friday?
- We got this gig at the Howlin' Wolf. You free?

No, man, we got a gig on Friday.

Man, that's too bad.

We could sure use a 'bone.

What about Delfeayo or Shorty?

- Those cats are in demand, man.
- Yeah, true that. True that.

Man, that was fun.
It was a real honor.

Thank you, man. My pleasure.

Listen, Antoine, I'm out.

I didn't forget.

What the fuck?

I docked you half. You were late.

- Ten minutes.
- Man, half an hour.

Next time I'll dock the whole thing
and you're done.


Man, gotta pay the cost
to be the boss, right?

I hear you. You know, I'm going on tour
this summer with a horn section.

No kidding?

Yeah, we're doing East Coast dates,
Europe, Japan.

Japan? Man, I've been to Europe,
but Japan Japan?

Man, I'd love to get me some of that.

Well, Friday's kind of
a dress rehearsal.

I'd take Troy, but he's so unavailable.

- You know what I'm saying?
- Right.

I know what you're saying.
I know what you're saying.

John, what brings you here?

I thought you might want
to see my new asshole.

Terry, what the fuck?

I tried to talk to you.

- We were working a legit lead.
- The husband?

- Come on.
- We had to clear him first, didn't we?

Did anybody talk to the detective
working the attempted push-in down the block?

- We sent a team over.
- A week and a half later.

- What did you expect to find?
- You're not Fifth District.

- You're not Homicide. You go to a chief?
- Is this about turf, John?

The city's on its knees. Do your job and I
wouldn't have to fucking do it for you.

You're gonna get a reputation, Terry.

I'm going to run, pick up the boys at school,
take them to the doctor.

LaDonna, I found an apartment.

Mama, I wish you wouldn't.
Larry likes having you here. So do I.

- And the boys adore it.
- It's on the bus line, 20 minutes each way.

I'll be here whenever anybody wants me.

I'm putting the house up for sale too.

It's time. And I need the money.

I didn't move up here
to be a burden on y'all.


I suppose you agree with Larry now,
about selling the bar?

I know that y'all are gonna have to decide
sooner or later which it's going to be.

I'm-a pick up my boys.

That's such a cool piece, Tom.

Thanks. Yeah, I wrote it for Henry Butler.

I heard Henry playing
Tipitina on the radio

and I took a little fragment
of what he was playing

and put the two-three clave
underneath it and...

...took that idea and just stretched it
into a whole tune.

I kind of did that with a Dylan song...

except I didn't mean to.

Yeah, well, you know, at least you can sing.

I never learned how to sing.

- But you can write.
- Yeah, but you can sing.

Come on, let's do Heliotrope.

And with this sacred stick,

we consecrate the bonds
of musicianhood.

Let he who has partook know

that he is on the savage
and unyielding quest

toward the very frontiers
of funk and righteousness.

McAlary, what the fuck
are we gonna be playing?

Bounce funk rap
with a brass band twist.

Our message will be
angry and political.

We will speak to the injustices and affronts
of our time and we shall not be moved.

But do we have gigs?

Three or four clubs a week
once I get a demo to people.

We don't even got songs yet.
What the hell are you talking about, recording?

I've been holed up for months writing.

And the material is solid, T,
like a rock, brah.

But who's gonna be the frontman?

- I will front some...
- Hell no.

But... But... Fuck you.

Most of the front work rests right here -
Lil Calliope.

- Young 'un can sing?
- No, man, I rhyme.

That he can. Check this out.

Well, shit, let's see
what the hell comes.

McAlary, are you paying
for rehearsal space?


New order -
a fluke and two pounded tuna.

Take a picture of that.
I'll take a wallet size.

How's that pounded tuna any different
from the 32 others you just done tonight?

I don't know. I just like this one.

I think I finally, I don't know,
hit my groove with this one.

- Just another tuna dish to me.
- I'm just saying.

- It's a good-looking dish.
- Yeah.

- Fire two turf, one well.
- Two turf, one well. Yes, chef.

Coming up - two halibut,
two skate, two turf...


I'll have what he's having.

You know much about ragtime?


Scott Joplin, its greatest practitioner,
said it must not be played too fast.


So how are they?

A little brisk. The Latin tinge
is a nice touch, though.

Evan Christopher, the clarinet player,
reminds me of Tony Parenti.

So North White Street.


That big shipwreck.

A fixer-upper.

At the planning meeting on Friday
a friendly fellow came up to me

and congratulated me
on my successful bid.

That was friendly.

But the auction hasn't happened yet.

I think you're making a wise purchase.

Assuming you win the auction, of course.

I... wouldn't pay more than
a million-one for it.

But that's just me.

- That is so good.
- Roast pork. We were lucky to get it.

- They're usually out by this hour.
- This swine is mine.

- Salt and pepper squid?
- No, thanks. No, thanks.

- Just a little?
- No.

Suit yourself. It's delicious.

You're lucky I didn't
order the tripe medley.

Wait, I did order the tripe medley.

Damn, girl, where do you put it all?

You eat like you just got out of jail.
They don't feed you where you work?

We don't eat food. We just cook it.
There's no time.

And if there is time,
you're looking at it all day, you don't want it.

Until about an hour after work.

And then you'd eat the box
a Big Mac comes in.

A hard thing you picked to do with your life.

You and me both, right?

People like us...

we just do a thing.

We don't have a choice, really.

Could you do anything else?

Probably not.

Your parents cool with it?

It's not exactly what they wanted for me,
put it that way.

- I hear that.
- Your father must be proud.

It's hard to tell sometimes.

Actually, he's coming to town tomorrow.

All right, let me try
a bite of this damn tripe.

Come on.

It's not that bad. It's good!

You should freeze some and give it
to your mother and family.

You know how much
she loves your gumbo.

Look who it is.


Gentlemen, compliments
of your next-door neighbor.

Well, Davis "McEllery,"
as I live and breathe.

You're... gonna get my name right someday.
Don't worry about it.

2000. That's good, a good year.

Yes, especially for... Bordeaux.

Sit, sit. I'll get some glasses
and we'll open it now.

No, actually...

I think you're gonna want
that bottle for later.

I have... some musicians
coming over tomorrow, rehearsing.

Musicians? What kind of music?

Brass funk hip-hop
with a bounce twist.

- God.
- Heavy on the bass,

which is to say sousaphone.

- Tomorrow, you say?
- Yeah.

And then for twice a week thereafter
until further notice.

Guys, forgive me my trespasses.

It's only until we get
a couple sets together, OK?

And then we can move it
into the clubs.

Now's when you call the cops.

Davina said she was gonna
get you a winter coat.

She did - a shiny, puffy thing.

Made me look like the Michelin Man.

You got another room?

A secret passageway or something, hm?

This is it. You take the bed.

I'm gonna stay over by Jill's while you're here.

See, now I know you ain't sewing.

Nary a bead, a thread
or a feather to be seen.

And there ain't no place to work.

I'm set up over at Jill's.
She got a lot more space.

Come on, let's make the bead shop.
I still got a few things to pick up.

- Let me hit the head.
- All right.

That's another reason
why I gotta stop masking.

It takes a young man's bladder to walk
all around all day in an Indian suit.

Lord in heaven,
you call this a bathtub?

Next, this is the whole of Lot 23,

commercial building
on the property,

at 426 North White Street,
Second Municipal District.

The writ amount is $500,000.


There are taxes due to the city - $1215.23.

I need an opening bid of $500,000.

Starting bidding now on property
426 North White Street at $500,000.

I have $500,000.

Do I have six?
Do I have $600,000?

I have $600,000.
Do I have seven?

Do I have $800,000?


Afternoon, actually.

Do you have to do that out here?

The light's better. Late night?

Dinner in Chinatown.

My favorite.

After a long shift, nothing better than big,
oily plates of Chinese food late at night

in a garishly fluorescent-lit establishment

of minimal decor and dubious hygiene.

The floors are so greasy in this place,
you just skate to your table.

I know that joint - Big Wong.

It's just great.

Yeah. That's for you.
It was on the machine.

504. That's New Orleans.
What was the message?

I don't know.
Nick wrote it down.

Susan. Susan Spicer.

No shit? Maybe she's got a job
for you back home.

No, thanks.

Well, ask her if she's got a job for me.

The problem is, the local thug talent went to
Houston after the storm and got educated.

Graduate school.

Met their Mexican suppliers,
eliminated the middleman,

came back better than ever,
chased the Crips and Bloods

who were trying to move in
after Katrina back to LA.

Well, there's a case for
some twisted civic pride.

Only in New Orleans, yeah?

Would be bad enough if
we had our act together.

Homicide's a fucking train wreck.

You know why they don't have a viable suspect
in the Helen Hill murder?

They're looking at the husband.

Shot three times holding their baby.

They've finally backed off that.

Even they could see how stupid
that was eventually.


- Good I ran into you.
- Majeeda.

- You know Terry Colson?
- No.

Majeeda Snead.

She runs the law clinic over at Loyola.

Remember that case I was
working on - Abreu? I gave it to them.

I should update you
on that sometime.

Drop by the office
when you have a sec.

OK, I will. Nice to meet you.

You too.

- You kicked it to the law clinic?
- I couldn't afford to keep it.

You working Sunday?


Pigeon Town Steppers second line,
if they can get their fees together.

You should come.

Have you ever been... off duty?

I'll think about it.

If they can't get the money?

Then you can come
to the protest march.

Then I'll be working.

I think you're gonna dig this place. It's not like
them old-style bead and feather stores.

Ain't nothing wrong with them.

Anything I can't get from Miss Helen
or Jefferson Variety,

I order from them Koreans up here.

I just thought you might
want to see it, that's all.

You might see something,
some trim for your suit.

I already got trim for my suit.

All right.

You're right.
It ain't like them old stores.

Look at the crystals and stones. Check out
some of these boas too for your apron trim.

They got marabou?

- They got everything.
- They got everything.

Back already?
Are you making progress?

Hey, Dave. I want you
to meet my daddy.

I heard a lot about you. Dave Wilkins.

Albert Lambreaux.

I'm just about done
beading that patch.

- I'm-a need me some more gimp, Dave.
- No problem.

And maybe some blue rose montees.

- Let me see what I got in stock.
- OK.

What's that for?

You'll see.

Gonna have to order those.
I don't have any set with backs.

- Take a few days.
- That's cool.

- Nice to meet you.
- Nice to meet you too, Dave.

They got everything, huh?

So in honor of the one thing that has gone right
this year let me put it this way...

Who dat gonna get
crime under control?

Wait, they're in jail.

And who dat gonna
rebuild our levees?

The army corps of engineers?

Yeah, and exactly who believes them

when they say they're gonna
get it right this time?

And who dat gonna rebuild our houses?

Mr. Mayor, you've got homeless people
sleeping in your fucking front yard.

I mean, who dat gonna say anything
that isn't complete fucking bullshit?

- Chef, do you have a moment?
- Yes, of course. How is it going?

It's fine, chef, fine,
but I have a problem back home.

My sous-chef, he's been arrested.

He's in jail. And they want to deport him.

He's got his papers, but he's... He's not...

He's not illegal exactly, but...

I know. It's confusing. It's complicated.
And he needs help.

Friends, lovers, marriage...

they come and go.

But your sous chef...
that's a lifelong relationship.

- Go.
- Thank you, chef.

- Thank you.
- You're very welcome.

I'm going back to work.


after carnival,
when things calm down.

We'll see.

And why'd you tell Mama
to put the house up for sale?

Who am I to tell your mama anything?

She's just as stubborn as you are.

Where do you think I get it?

So she ain't been coming in nights at all, huh?

Not most days neither.
She's staying in Baton Rouge.

That'll get old quick.

Thank you.

- All right.
- Thanks.

- What the fuck?
- For being late.

Man, I didn't miss a note.

Man, that last-minute shit ain't gonna cut it.

Now you weren't here
on time for sound check

and you were too loud
the whole fucking first set.


- OK, it won't happen again.
- Damn straight, 'cause you're gone.

- What the fuck?
- I gave you fair warning.

Say, brah, I think he just called you
a motherfucker in Dutch.

Back at him.

What's up, chief?

The busier we get, man,
the more these cats are fucking up.

Man, that's just regular band shit.

Regular shit, that's all.

Yeah, I hear you.

Listen, brah, I want
to ask you something.

I mean, you're an organized motherfucker.

What if I gave you a little extra taste
and you can kinda sorta run things?

That's your job. You're the leader.

Look, I book the gigs, choose the songs,
hire and fire, you feel me?

Artistic decisions.

I'm talking about logistics, you know,
make sure cats are on time,

fine them when they're late,
lining up last-minute subs if we need them,

handle payroll, you know?

You want me to be the straw boss.

Yeah. 30 to start.

How about 100?


I'll let you keep
half the fines you collect.

- Half the fines?
- Right.

Well, shit, half the fines.

I'm gonna get rich
off these motherfuckers.

- I'm out, man.
- All right.

- See you tomorrow night?
- Y'all are gonna have to carry me tomorrow,

'cause I'm sitting in with Henry Butler
at the Howlin' Wolf.

That's cool. I'll cover your shit.

- Better singer anyway.
- Fuck you.

- No, fuck you, brah.
- Fuck you.

What? You fining me for
cursing that motherfucker?

No, no, miss a gig... that's a fine.

I just told you it was happening.

No, brah, less than 24-hour notice,

that's a fineable offense.

That's right. Pay the fuck up.

In advance.

- You motherfuckers.
- Thanks.

All right.

Where does this go?

Under "correspondence answered."

Councilman Thomas can see you now,
but he has a conference call on the hour.

Thank you.

What brings you here?

- I wish it were playoff tickets.
- Isn't that something,

the Saints in the NFC Championship Game
in my lifetime?

Sadly, I got no pull in Chicago.

But I am bearing a gift of a kind.

I'm looking into buying
some real estate in mid-city.

Let's just say I'm following a hunch.

- A hunch?
- You can call it that.

No offense,
but if fellas from Dallas, Texas,

are already getting wind
of plans for lower mid-city,

don't you think it's a little late to be
telling the council president?

Son, I can almost hear the sound of
the file cards turning inside your head.

What else you got in that bag of tricks?

What else?

Brother, I got a million of them.

- Buy me a cappuccino.
- I thought you had a conference call.

She always says that
in case I need an out.

October '05, two months after Katrina,

we got a phone call from one of the residents
of Iberville Projects

about a possible police shooting
a few days after the storm.

Leon Seals, 29, body found
in a Crozat Street apartment,

a single gunshot wound
to the head, close range.

"Undetermined, pending investigation."

Our witness says Seals grew up
in the Iberville.

His family evacuated during the storm.
He stayed behind.

Mr. Seals.

Arrests for armed robbery,
attempted murder,

intent to distribute.

And this is connected to Abreu...

She says she saw three or four cops
chase Seals into the building.

Then she heard gunshots,
two of them.

Later that day,
her brother crept in and saw the body.

Can she identify the officers?

If she can, she won't.

I did convince her to walk me back
in the building

and show me where
the body had been.

I found these...

.380, semiautomatic.

Holy shit.

Same as Abreu.

- Where is the police report?
- We have yet to locate one.

And I filed for a public record request
a year ago.

- Cables?
- Computer cables.

You know how many of those
you order in a year?

300,000-400,000 a year.

You know how much
you're paying per cable?

Buck-79 to buck-98 per unit.

You know how much
you should be paying?

Less than a buck.

So, for being a responsible public servant

and putting the brakes on
some half-assed city procurement

and giving the contract to
a reputable Dallas-based firm

that can supply all your
computer cable needs,

you save the city a quarter of a million a year.

Right off the bat, before I even think about
picking up the phone

and checking you out on this shit,

there's something
I need to ask you to do today...

a show of good faith.

Name it.

Susan said it was a traffic stop.

Yeah, a bad tail-light and bad papers.

Actually, no papers.

No papers?

Well, how did you get in the country
in the first place without papers?

I'll tell you some other time,
when I get out of here.

Janette, they want to deport me.

That's not gonna happen.

We'll get the bail money raised.

And what we really need is an
immigration lawyer. Susan's got contacts.

Just don't throw a Sazerac at the Sheriff.

You heard about that?

You are now officially
a living legend of Louisiana.


Me and Edwin Edwards.

Yeah, chasing it now.

You get any more ideas,
let me know, all right?

- Mr. Henry.
- All right.

You must be Nelson.

Oliver told me you was coming,
but he didn't say why.

So this is Pigeon Town?

It's part of it.

And you guys are having
a kind of parade, right?

Second line. We do it every year.

Pigeon Town Steppers.
I'm the president.

You're short on cash
is what I understand.

People have been donating,
but we're still about $2000 short.

And we're down to the wire.

- Supposed to go Sunday.
- Day after tomorrow?

Got the band and everything.

Well, compliments of
Hidalgo & Hidalgo of Dallas, Texas.

See what I mean?

He wrote all of these?

One right after the other.

Thank you so much.

I'm no weatherman,
but I think it feels like rain.

It's a good song.

It's a great song.
But what's great about it?

Thank you.

- OK, for starters?
- For starters.

The melody is cool.

You know, it's simple like the blues,

but it's not locked into
those chord changes.

Yeah, the music gives you what it can.

But keep going.

Well, the lyrics - not so simple.

I mean, he starts off
and he's singing about the weather,

the river, the sea, you know.

And you realize it's New Orleans.

But then he isn't singing
about New Orleans.

You know, it's really love
he's got on his mind.


And love is not simple.

You know, it's a little dark sometimes

and a little dangerous, like New Orleans.

And he's just riding it out
no matter how rough it gets.

He's like us now, after the storm.

Hiatt wrote that song
20 years ago, darling,

when you still had training wheels
on your bike

and nobody had ever heard
the name Katrina.


That's what makes it a great song.

- Bye.
- Later, guys. Bye.

I think I'm starting
to figure this place out.

It's a village, a village on an island.

Everyone's connected.

They may love each other. They may
hate each other, but they're all related.

This week I bought an empty building
for a million-one

and laid out a couple grand in a little bitty bar
at the back of town.

Both of them on a handshake
and 'cause somebody told me to.

It's all connected somehow.

And I'm this close to seeing
how it all hooks up.

Let me ask you something, darling.

- You ever been to a second line?
- Sure.

I haven't.

- Looks great.
- Yeah.

Thank you.

OK, I have bagels with cream cheese
and lox and coffee.

I'll have coffee.


How's it going?

I'm gonna finish.

When are we going to Brooklyn?

Dad, I gotta tell you something.

I'm not gonna be ready.

Tell me something I don't know.

I've been sewing, though.

That's it? That's all you got.

Wait, hold on now.

Someone taught you
how to sew at least.

This Indian's missing a few tears.

That's what them blue rose montees is for?

That's not bad.

That's damn good, actually.

Well, too bad you ain't
got a suit to go with it.

Maybe next year.

It's for you, Daddy.


Yeah, I made it for you.

This Indian...

is you.

This is your house.

And the blue tarp.

I was hoping you'd wear it this year.

I'm hoping you make it out
Mardi Gras day.

You gonna be there?

I told you I would be.

You told me you were sewing too.

I have been.

I'm just slow.

Mrs. Williams,

is now a good time?

Come in.

- Your husband?
- He's in New Orleans for the day.

My kids are at Sunday school.

I skipped Mass.

Me too.

I tried your cell, thought I'd come up here,
see if I could catch you.

I haven't picked up messages
in a couple of days. Please sit.

I wonder if you wouldn't mind
looking at some photographs.

We arrested a couple of men

for a similar incident in the same neighborhood
last week.

Yeah, all right.

No, I don't think so.

Oh my God.

- That's them.
- Are you sure?

Damn it. God damn it.


God damn it.

Good. That's who we arrested.



Look at Bigfoot. He can dance.

So can I.

Yes, you can.

- Colson, you going native on us.
- It looks different from out here.

Yeah, right. What are you gonna do now?

You gonna quit and go join
the public defender's office or something?

Come on, try it, Lonnie.

- See this guy?
- No? It's not for you?

Hey, I didn't think
this was gonna happen.

A last-minute benefactor, an angel.

I don't know if I approve, you know.

It sets a precedent
for paying the higher fees.

- You wouldn't want this not to happen.
- No.

No, and we will prevail
in court eventually, huh?

That's what I admire about you, Toni,

your faith in the system
despite all your experiences to the contrary.

Sofia seems to be having a good time.

It's a temporary reprieve.
She is so grounded.

I wouldn't let her out for anything else.

What did she do?

Broke the rules.

And people think
you're a bleeding-heart liberal.

Yes, punishment first,
then forgiveness.

Wouldn't that be nice?