no thanks. good. everyone's good. you know. the doctor takes a long suck. two weeks. you following this?. okay?. so. heh-heh. this part is exciting. students follow along, bored. larry continues to write. . so, okay. so. so if that's that, then we can do this, right? is that right? isn't that right? and that's schrodinger's paradox, right? is the cat dead or is the cat not dead? okay? thank you, natalie. oh-clive. come in. a korean graduate student who was been waiting on a straightbacked chair rises. so, uh, what can i do for you? the messages: while you were out dick dutton of columbia record club uh-huh, how so? uh, yes. you failed the mid-term. that's accurate. well-you can't do physics without mathematics, really, can you. well, i. i'm sorry, but i. what do you propose? no no, i- well, the other students wouldn't like that, would they. if one student gets to retake the test til he gets a grade he likes. clive impassively considers this. no, i'm afraid- no, that's just not workable. i'm afraid we'll just have to bite the bullet on this thing, clive, and- hello, sy, larry gopnik. good, how've you been, sy? what?! oh! sorry! i, uh-call back! he slams down the phone. arthur! a muffled voice: dinner! we should wait. mr. brandt keeps mowing part of our lawn. what? it's just odd. i think they'll give me tenure. sy?-sy ableman!-that's right, he called, but i- no, i- mm. sy ableman! you mentioned sy! a divorce-what have i done! i haven't done anything- what have i done! yes! yes! we haven't done anything! and i-i'm probably about to get tenure! come into your-what does that mean?! you, you, you, you barely know him! yes, but you you said we hadn't done anything! judy suddenly is stony: sy ableman! from down the hall, a knock on a door. a muffled voice: where do i sleep? judy narrows her eyes. arthur's on the couch! esther is barely cold! a what? a what? what are you talking about? she turns to go, shaking her head, peeved: yes-thanks for coming, clive. clive park enters the office. well--you don't even know what i was going to say. well. then, clive, where did this come from? he waves the envelope. . this is here, isn't it? clive looks at it gravely. this is not nothing, this is something. you know what it is! you know what it is! i believe. and i'll have to pass it on to professor finkle, along with my suspicions about where it came from. actions have consequences. always! actions always have consequences! he pounds the desk for emphasis. in this office, actions have consequences! not just physics. morally. and we both know about your actions. i can interpret, clive. i know what you meant me to understand. meer sir my sir? honey, please! danny emerges from the hall. can we discuss it later? sarah! what's going on! arthur? uncle arthur does not look up from his scribbling. uncle arthur yes. larry continues to stare at the ceiling. what're you doing? still without looking up: uncle arthur working on the mentaculus. long beat. music. scribbling. any luck, um, looking for an apartment? more scribbling. uncle arthur no. the doorbell chimes. sy. sy, entering, thrusts out a hand. his voice vibrates with a warm, sad empathy: shall we go in the. he is leading him into the kitchen but sy, oblivious to surroundings, plows on with the conversation, arresting both men in the narrow space between kitchen sink and stove, and invading larry's space. uh-huh. did she. yes? well, i guess. you know, sy- thanks, sy, but i'm not- i'm just-i'm not ungrateful, i'm, i just don't know a lot about wine and, given our respective, you know- he is startled when sy abruptly hugs him. okay. uncle arthur glances up from the notebook, focuses on larry. hi arlen. arlen finkle larry, i feel that, as head of the tenure committee i should tell you this, though it should be no cause for concern. you should not be at all worried. larry waits for more. arlen seems to need a prompt. okay. arlen finkle i feel i should mention it even though we won't give this any weight at all in considering whether to grant you tenure, so, i repeat no cause for concern. okay, arlen. give what any weight? arlen finkle we have received some letters, uh. denigrating you, and, well, urging that we not grant you tenure. from who? arlen finkle they're anonymous. and so of course we dismiss them completely. well. well. what do they say? arlen finkle they make allegations, not even allegations, assertions, but but. i think you're saying, these won't play any part in your deliberations. arlen finkle none at all. um, so what are they. arlen finkle moral turpitude. you could say. uh-huh. can i ask, are they, are they-idiomatic? arlen finkle i, uh. the reason i ask, i have a korean student, south korean, disgruntled south korean, and i meant to talk to you about this, actually, he- arlen finkle no. no, the letters are competently-even eloquently written. a native english-speaker. no question about that. uh-huh. arlen finkle but i reiterate this, larry: no cause for concern. i only speak because i would have felt odd concealing it. yes, okay, thank you arlen. uh, good afternoon. this brings gar's look around. apparently he is unused to talking with his neighbor. there is a short beat before his response. is that a, uh. he is indicating the staked area. gar looks around at it, looks back at larry. uh-huh, that's great. uh, mr. brandt- gar barks at mitch, who has lingered to listen to the grown-ups: isn't this a school day? oh! he nods. . that's. . nice. gar stares at him with button eyes. small talk is not his thing. larry clears his throat. the. ? well. . even if it is, you're just about over it i don't have to measure, you can tell it's. what's going on? at five o'clock? he looks out the front-door window. four girls of sarah's age are coming up the walk you can't wash it here? from somewhere in the house, jefferson airplane starts. as she brushes past larry: huh? i am? sy. i'm happy to come to embers, sy, but, i'm thinking, really, maybe it's best to leave these discussions to the lawyers. i told you, i'm going monday. living arrangements. the kids aren't- i didn't say anyone was! i wasn't! i. --- move out?! move out! where would i go?! what's going on? what was that? how's the haftorah coming? can you maybe use the hi-fi? with all respect, mr. park, i don't think it's that. mr. park yes. no. it would be a culture clash if it were the custom in your land to bribe people for grades. mr. park yes. so-you're saying it is the custom? mr. park no. this is defamation. grounds for lawsuit. you-let me get this straight-you're threatening to sue me for defaming your son? mr. park yes. but it would- gar brandt is this man bothering you. gar brandt stands on the strip of lawn separating the two neighbors. he is giving mr. park a hard stare. is he bothering me? no. we're fine. thank you, mr. brandt. gar brandt, not entirely convinced, withdraws, glaring at the korean. larry turns back to mr. park. . i, uh. . see, if it were defamation there would have to be someone i was defaming him to, or i. all right, i. let's keep it simple. i could pretend the money never appeared. that's not defaming anyone. passing grade. mr. park yes. or you'll sue me. mr. park for taking money. so. . he did leave the money. mr. park this is defamation. larry stares at him. look. it doesn't make sense. either he left the money or he didn't mr. park please. accept mystery. you can't have it both ways! if mr. park why not. larry stares. we hear sidor belarsky music. hello. he brightens. . fine, mimi, how are you?. uh-huh. no, it's not that bad. it's not that bad. there's a pool. arthur emerges from an alcove in the dim depth of the room that has a dressing-room mirror and apparently connects to the bathroom. he has a hand towel pressed to the back of his neck. . oh sure, that sounds great. . . oh, great, then i'll bring no. almost a year and a half since touche ross let him go. he's very good with numbers. i think his, his social skills have held him back. arthur has a good heart. and he never complains, unlike me. sometimes i don't give him enough credit. the mentaculus? he says it's a, uh. a probability map. of the universe. he asked if i could help him publish it. um, it was a little hard for me to evaluate. he tries. he's been going to the singles mixers at hillel house.-well, i should talk, i'm not doing any better. fine. she's fine. i'm the odd man out. mimi smiles. i never felt it! it was a bolt from the blue! what does that mean! everything that i thought was one way turns out to be another! i'll say. i guess. what's the rabbi gonna tell me? oh-rabbi scott. rabbi scott ginzler is the junior rabbi, a man in his twenties. rabbi scott hello larry. i thought i was going to see rabbi nachtner. rabbi scott he was called away on an etz monim: ruth brynn's mother is in the hospital and she isn't doing well. rabbi nachtner asked me to cover for him-come on in. and she wants a gett. a long silence. the hum of ventilation. at length: she wants a- rabbi scott oh, a gett. uh-huh, sure. i feel like the carpet's been yanked out from under me. i don't know which end is up. i'm not even sure how to react; i'm too confused. rabbi scott what reasons did she give? for the rupture? she didn't give-reasons. just that, oh, you know, things haven't been going well. rabbi scott and is that true? i guess. i don't know. she's usually right about these things. rabbi scott mm-hm. i feel so. addled. rabbi scott yes, i can see. i was hoping that. rabbi nachtner. rabbi scott that he would. yes? well, with the benefit of his life experience. no um. rabbi scott because with the right perspective you can see hashem, you know, reaching into the world. he is in the world, not just in shul. it souunds to me like you're looking at the world, looking at your wife, through tired eyes. it sounds like she's become a sort of. thing. a problem. a thing. well, she's, she's seeing sy ableman. she's, they're planning, that's why they want the gett. rabbi scott oh. i'm sorry. it was his idea. rabbi scott well, they do need a gett to remarry in the faith. but this is life. for you too. you can't cut yourself off from the mystical or you'll be-you'll remain-completely lost. you have to see these things as expressions of god's will. you don't have to like it, of course. the boss isn't always right, but he's always the boss. rabbi scott ha-ha-ha! that's right, things aren't so bad. look at the parking lot, larry. rabbi scott gazes out, marveling. . just look at that parking lot. don. oh, well. well, the way i look at it, it's an opportunity for me to really sit down and figure things out, and, and, look at the world afresh instead of just, you know, settling for the routine, tired old way of looking at things. don milgram stares at him. oh no, nothing like that. she's planning to marry sy ableman, but they- yes, but they- she passed three years ago. not in the sense that. there hasn't been hanky-panky. to my knowledge. no. i'm fairly certain this is not an issue. and in fact they, uh, judith wants a gett. beat. don stares blankly at larry. larry clears his throat. a ritual divorce. so that they can remarry in the faith- oh, they're very. he gropes. . resilient. okay. good. how do you-i guess i'm a little worried, how do you, i have money pressures and- danny? ! danny? ! are you all right? are you all-is everything- what? clive! he starts frantically pumping down his window, shouting: . clive! you gonna send your mother next?! you little bastard! i wanna see you! i wanna- crash. he has rear-ended someone. a blaring horn, a quick second crash: wrenching steel and spattering glass. he has been rear-ended in turn. the ka-ching of the bicycle. clive park cycles past without looking. hello? i-there's some mistake. i'm not a member of the columbian record club. no, i live at the jolly roger. no, i-well, yes, okay. okay. okay, yes, lawrence gopnik, yes. "the monthly main selection?" is that a record? i didn't that's right! i haven't done anything! but i- i didn't ask for santana abraxis! i can't afford a new record every month! i haven't asked look, something is very wrong! i don't want santana abraxis! i've just been in a terrible auto accident! beat. well-thank you. but i- yes. yes, no one was hurt. i didn't ask for santana abraxis! i didn't listen to santana abraxis! i didn't do anything! the secretary is sticking her head in. okay, look, i have to call you back, this is, this is i'm sorry. he irritably punches a button on the bottom row of four. did you join the columbia record club?! danny, this is completely unacceptable. i can't afford to- is it f troop? yes? she enters. does what mean-what happened? what?! danny enters. what?! it seems like she's asking an awful lot. but then-i don't know. somebody has to pay for sy's funeral. rabbi nachtner, sitting opposite, nods. rabbi nachtner his own estate is in probate. but why does it have to be me? or is it wrong to complain? judy says it is. but i'm so strapped for cash right now-paying for the jolly roger, and i wrecked the car, and danny's bar mitzvah. i. rabbi nachtner something like this-there's never a good time. i don't know where it all leaves me. sy's death. obviously it's not going to go back like it was. rabbi nachtner mm. would you even want that, larry? no, i-well yeah! sometimes! or-i don't know; i guess the honest answer is i don't know. what was my life before? not what i thought it was. what does it all mean? what is hashem trying to tell me, making me pay for sy ableman's funeral? rabbi nachtner mm. and-did i tell you i had a car accident the same time sy had his? the same instant, for all i know. is hashem telling me that sy ableman is me, or we are all one or something? rabbi nachtner how does god speak to us: it's a good question. you know lee sussman? doctor sussman? i think i-yeah. rabbi nachtner did he ever tell you about the goy's teeth? no. i-what goy? rabbi nachtner so lee is at work one day; you know he has the orthodontic practice there at texa-tonka. uh-huh. rabbi nachtner right next to the gold eagle cleaners. we cut to: staring at the rabbi. he waits a good beat. he prompts: so what did you tell him? the rabbi seems surprised by the question. rabbi nachtner sussman? yes! rabbi nachtner is it. . relevant? well-isn't that why you're telling me? rabbi nachtner mm. okay. nachtner says, look. . we are back in the scene, narrated by voice-over, of the rabbi silently advising the fretful sussman. . the teeth, we don't know. a sign from hashem, don't know. helping others, couldn't hurt. larry's voice-over question plays over sussman asking the same thing: larry but is that what it meant?-tet resh nun lamed nun shin isayin, was it "help me"? or a number? or was it rabbi nachtner we can't know everything. sussman stares blankly at the rabbi. a beat. larry it sounds like you don't know mthing! why even tell me the story? rabbi nachtner what happened to sussman? dissatisfied. i don't want it to just go away! i want an answer! rabbi nachtner the answer! sure! we all want the answer! but hashem doesn't owe us the answer, larry. hashem doesn't owe us anything. the obligation runs the other way. why does he make us feel the questions if he's not gonna give us any answers? rabbi nachtner smiles at larry for a beat. and what happened to the goy? rabbi nachtner's forebearing smile fades into puzzlement. rabbi nachtner the goy? who cares? i'm. laurence gopnik. cop i do you go by the name arthur gopnik? no. can you tell me what's going on. we're sitting shiva here. a religious observance. we're. bereaved. the cop standing behind gazes in over his partner's shoulder. my wife's um. it's a long story. arthur, how could you do that to this family. on sy's. on sy's- that doesn't make it right! and you- you knew about it?! what did you do with the money you won? silence. arthur sneaks a look at danny. larry looks back and forth between them. . what's going on? arthur shrugs. what have you been- i know about the records. hey! what's going on! what?! nobody in this house is getting a nose job! you got that?! danny! you weren't excused! we're still talking! what was this card game, arthur? danny, what's going on! he rises. danny! we're sitting shiva! it's hard. i think she emptied our bank account. i tried to ask her about it, very civilly. she, uh. can i? that's not, um, dishonest? i hate to say this, but i think she's also been sneaking cash out of my wallet. just a sunburn. i've been spending a lot of time on the roof. for. perspective. he trails off and his head drops back down onto his arms. don gives him an appraising look. talked to nachtner. they told me minda doesn't do pastoral work any more. just. . ceremonial. getting old. no, me. call back. i'm. fine. arlen finkle i'm sorry. i know you've hit a rough patch. thank you. i'm fine. he puts the envelope in the desk drawer and closes it. arlen, i am not an evil man! arlen looks at him, shocked. arlen finkle larry! of course not! i am not- arlen finkle we don't make moral judgments! i went to the aster art once. i saw swedish reverie. arlen finkle it's okay, larry, we don't need to know! the tenure it wasn't even erotic! although it was, in a way. arlen finkle it's all right, larry. believe me. larry calms somewhat. okay. arlen finkle okay. okay. we, uh, we decide on wednesday, so if there's anything you want to submit in support of your tenure application, we should have it by then. that's all. i haven't done anything. arlen finkle uh-huh. i haven't published. arlen finkle uh-huh. are you still getting those letters? arlen finkle uh-huh. those anonymous- arlen finkle yes, i know. yes. a beat. larry nods. okay. okay. wednesday. arlen finkle okay. don't worry. doing nothing is not bad. ipso facto. sure. and that means. so that. from which we derive. his glances back toward the class show that he is wearier, baggier-eyed, more haggard than ever. there is also something odd about his posture. he writes smaller and smaller so as to finish before hitting the right edge of the chalkboard. . and also. which lets us. and. wider as he finishes and straightens up, revealing that he has been stooping to write across the very bottom of the board. the equation covers every inch of the classroom-wide three-paneled chalkboard. larry is an off balance figure at the right edge of frame. reverse on the class: staring. okay? larry claps chalk dust from his hands. . the uncertainty principle. it proves we can't ever really know. what's going on. a bell sounds. the students start to shake off their stupor and rise. larry projects over the wallah: . so it shouldn't bother you. not being able to figure anything out. although you will be responsible for this on the mid-term. the thinning crowd gradually reveals one person still seated: sy ableman. he wears a prayer shawl and yarmulka. well, it might be that, in, you know, in l'olam ha-bah- sy ableman excuse me. not the issue. in this world, larry. he nods at the chalkboard. . i'll concede that it's subtle. it's clevva. but at the end of the day, is it convincing? well-yes it's convincing. it's a proof. it's mathematics. sy ableman excuse me, larry. mathematics. is the art of the possible. larry's brow furrows. i don't think so. the art of the possible, that's. i can't remember. something else. sy ableman i'm a serious man, larry. i know that. so if i've got it wrong, what do i- sy ableman holds up one hand to silence him. sy ableman so simple, larry. see minda. i know, i want to see minda! i want to see minda! they told me that oonh! without our having seen him rise or cross the room sy ableman has body-slammed larry into the chalkboard. now he grabs larry by the hair and whips his head against the equation. as he slams larry's head, again and again, the chalkboard chatters and the fringes on sy's tallis dance. sy ableman see minda! see minda! i fucked your wife, larry! i seriously fucked her! that's what's going on! see minda! very close on his eyes as they open. his head is on a pillow. dull early light. a hissing sound. larry looks blearily over. on the vanity table just outside the motel bathroom door sits uncle arthur's cyst evacuator. its waggling hose snakes into the cracked bathroom door as the machine hisses. oh. hello, mrs. samsky. i knocked, and then thought you weren't here. i, uh. mrs. samsky's voice is soft and breathy: mrs. samsky it just took me a second to get to the door. i was out back. larry stands nodding. he seems to need prompting. mrs. samsky does: . can i help you? wanna come in? no, i- one hand on the door, she steps back. mrs. samsky it's cooler. oh. okay. i just wanted to let you know. he is entering. i've noticed that mr. samsky isn't around, and i- mrs. samsky he travels. uh-huh. yeah, i never seem to see him, so i thought i should let you know, since you're somewhat new here, if you ever have, whatever, chores that you'd, um, or just help with something-i've decided to help others-you know, in a neighborly way. she gazes at him with the least hint of a smile and waits for the speech to dribble away to silence. in the ensuing beat, quiet except for the clicking of the blinds, she is perfectly still. finally, only her mouth moves: mrs. samsky how thoughtful. larry shrugs off the compliment. oh it's nothing. it's just good to know your neighbors. and to help. help others. although i don't care much for my neighbors on the other side, i must say. mrs. samsky lets another smiling silence pass before responding. mrs. samsky . goys, aren't they? mm. very much so. maybe it's not fair to judge; i have to admit i- mrs. samsky won't you sit down? oh! um. okay. thank you. mrs. samsky iced tea? i have some. she is already turning to the kitchen. okay. . he watches her and reacts to: the backs of her thighs. the flesh retains the broad cross-hatch of her lawn chair. she disappears into the kitchen, but calls out: mrs. samsky i don't see you around much, either. yes. actually i haven't been home a lot recently, i, uh, my wife and i are, uh, well, she's got me staying at the jolly roger, the little motel there on- mrs. samsky is reentering with two tall glasses of iced tea beaded with moisture. the click of the ice cubes joins the clicking of the blinds. mrs. samsky you're in the doghouse, huh? she hands him a glass as she sits on the couch next to him, not invasively close, one bare leg folded onto the couch, the other draped over it. yeah, that's an understatement i guess, i -thank you-i, what do you mean. her look holds for one more beat and then she swivels and opens the drawer of an end table. that's. marijuana? mrs. samsky mm-hmm. she hands the joint over. . you'll find you'll need the iced tea. larry handles the bitty cigarette with trepidation. is it. . well. . okay. maybe rabbi scott was right. mrs. samsky who's rabbi scott? the junior rabbi. mrs. samsky the junior rabbi. he spoke of. perception. all my problems are just. just a. a mere. he trails off, listening. . is that a siren? mrs. samsky no. some people get a little paranoid when they. holy cow. that is a siren. hey! neither the cops nor uncle arthur has heard. they have rung the doorbell and now disappear inside. larry projects louder- this is crazy! this brings the cops' look around. uncle arthur also turns, shamefaced, to larry. it's just mathematics! you can't arrest a man for mathematics! it's all a mistake. i mean, not a mistake, a, a- -a miscarriage- look! what did he do! you can't just- the north dakota! the north dakota! we hold on larry's shocked reaction as we hear danny, off: he says he didn't do anything. he says. . . he just went in for a drink. no. he says he was confused. okay. who's- is he good? i don't understand. he goes to mixers at the hillel house. is he expensive? this week. oh my god, mrs. samsky. beyond her head larry can see the low cottage-cheese ceiling of the bedroom. outside we can hear gar brandt mowing the lawn. suddenly we hear muffled laughter and the front door opening. larry panics. he hisses: . who is it? footsteps are approaching along the hall. mrs. samsky doesn't react; she looks calmly down at larry even as the bedroom door opens behind her and clive park walks in wearing a traffic mask. larry is mortified: clive, please! wait outside! mrs. samsky blows smoke into larry's eyes. the screen goes black. close on larry as he opens his eyes. a shadow falls across his face. his point-of-view: a wooden plank is just being slid into place over his head. the bang of hammer on nailhead. in the black: he stands looking down in low shot. above him is cheap johnson-armstrong dropped ceiling. please. i need help. i've already talked to the other rabbis. please. reverse shows an elderly eastern european woman seated behind a desk, looking up at he didn't look busy! as she starts shuffling papers: arthur. ? arthur? arthur is a dim mound on the next bed. his weeping continues. for no reason larry continues to keep his voice to a whisper: . arthur. what's wrong? no answer. . arthur. it'll be okay. arthur. we'll get ron meshbesher. it'll be okay- arthur! larry leaps from his bed, also in his underwear. he goes to the door but pauses, peering cautiously outside. satisfied that the courtyard is deserted, he plunges into it. arthur. don't use that word. arthur! come on! arthur. what do i have. i live at the jolly roger. it's not fair to blame hashem, arthur. please. sometimes -please calm down-sometimes you have to help your- self. arthur. please. arthur. this isn't the right forum. please. not by the pool. arthur weeps. arthur. it's okay. it's okay. is this it? both men peer out. okay. . he straightens. arthur straightens. larry hugs him. .look. they separate and larry pulls a white envelope from his pocket and gives it to arthur. . this'll help you get back on your feet. arthur looks into the envelope. doesn't matter. when you- it should get you started. arthur, i'm fine. come on, get in. when you're settled. it's fine. it's fine. larry waves. arthur waves bravely back, then turns to pick up the oars. a couple of strokes and he turns back again with a last thought. he calls: i know. it's okay. a lingering look from arthur, and then he turns back to row. a gunshot. blood spurts from the back of uncle arthur's neck. he slumps forward, dead. gasping awake in the motel room. he looks around. it is dawn. arthur sits on the edge of his bed in his underwear, staring off into space, slackjawed, vacant-eyed, drained. larry gazes around the room, waiting for things to fall into place. finally, blearily: were we. out at the pool last night? arthur, still staring off, responds in a flat, empty voice: it's shabbas. another beat. arthur heaves a deep sigh. it's okay. oh. thank you, arlen. arlen finkle mazel tov. it was wonderful. yes it was. thank you. arlen finkle such a time of nachas, larry. he's your youngest. you have to savor it. i do. i will. arlen finkle see you at the staff caf. yes. arlen shoves off to go, but hesitates. arlen finkle i just. i shouldn't tell you. i'm not telling you officially. the tenure candidates aren't notified til monday. yes? arlen nods. arlen finkle you'll be very pleased. larry stares at him. thank you, arlen. over his back as he goes: arlen finkle i didn't say anything. mazel tov. hello? yes? oh. hello dr. shapiro. dr. shapiro listen, mazel tov on danny. yes, thank you. dr. shapiro listen, could you come in to discuss these x-ray results? larry sits frozen, phone to his ear. . hello? yes? dr. shapiro larry, could you come in and discuss these x-ray results? remember the x-rays we took? we can't discuss them on the phone? thunder. pattering rain. when? dr. shapiro now. now is good. i've cleared some time now.