i know. but, maryland, it's a beautiful state anyway. he's staring at her, trying to figure out --
paper or plastic.
from the grocery store. you were wondering where, we, you know -- and right at the check-out stand, "paper or plastic," that's me. i see you all the time. bennett marco. checks from the first national bank, and you always put your spare change into the march of dimes thing. romance novels, instant noodles, no-doz and tomatoes. anyway, i'm on vacation, holiday in the city and so forth, i saw you sitting here .  i thought, okay, girl -- it's now or never. beat.
you headed to new york city?
business?
eugenie.
yeah. crazy french pronunciation and all.
thanks.
not yet they haven't, thank god. but you can call me jenny.
rosie. my full name is eugenie rose. i've always liked the rosie part better. eugenie is, well, fragile.
yeah. well. maybe 'cause i was feeling fragile. at the time. beat. their eyes lock. marco blinks -- fb94 flash: pfc. bobby baker -- stares back at him from where fb94 rosie was sitting. bullet hole in his forehead and a small, lost smile. reaching out to him --
sinks down next to him. calm. deftly plucking the pills from the floor.
my mother would tell you to wash these. marco looks up at her blankly. she takes the vial, caps it, gives it back.
i didn't mean to upset you.
it's way overrated. they stare at each other. then:
jesus. you've been in here twenty minutes. i thought you'd fallen off. marco stares at rosie. twenty minutes? the train shudders to a halt --
i'm gonna get a cab, you want me to drop you somewhere?
your friend gonna meet you here?
el dorado 59970. my cell phone, in case you -- you know. i like to say it the old way -- can you remember the number, or should i write it on your chest with a sharpie?
you're sweating.
listen. you got a place to go and get freshened up?
-- it's my cousin's apartment. she's in cleveland with the road company of 'mamma mia.' there's .  a view of the park .  if you go out on the fire escape and kinda .  tilt your head .  marco puts down the suitcases and waits in the middle of the room while rosie takes off her coat, turns on some lights.
i'm nervous. i'm sorry. i yak when i get nervous.
you okay?
is that what happened on the train?
what if you are?
if that's a line, ben marco, it kinda worked.
earth to ben -- how're you doing in there?
ben, what's going on -- are you okay --? marco finds a razor blade -- twisting it clumsily in his fingers to reach the slight bump on his back he can only barely see in the mirror --
ben, i need you to open this door. okay? just for a sec. you're scaring me. ben --?
oh jesus. -- and the razor in his hand -- she pushes him away --
see what? marco closes his eyes.
of what?
blank again? marco tries to say something, his mouth is dry.
he said this would happen. marco stares, trying to orient himself. his arm comes up to shade his eyes -- nothing written on it.
your friend.
kind of like a computer system crash -- your brain goes down, then you boot up again, but you lose all your ram. do you remember me?
yes.
that's right. a long beat. marco stares at the t.v. as she sits on the edge of the bed, rubs her hair with a towel.
you called me.
it's been weird, talking to you. knowing that you could fall asleep with your eyes open and wake up and have forgotten the whole conversation. i hope to god that part's over.
stuff. you said you "loved" me. not to scare you. out of nowhere, but more than once.
liar.
ben? rosie, rolling off the bed, sleepy, crossing to where marco is gathering the files --
what are you .  oh god. sees the hard look on marco's face. newspapers over all the vents. opens her mouth to explain but marco swings hard, and hits her -- she partially blocks it with her forearm -- backhands her onto the floor --
don't --
don't do this, ben. it's not what you think.
or they want you to think that you did. -- marco doesn't react -- whir of audio fast-forward --
who'll -- believe --
comes up holding a 9 mm revolver to marco's forehead.
i am the feds. she coughs. marco stares at her, dumbfounded.
we've been watching you, trying to sort this out. i mean, it's either you're telling it straight and we've all got something big-time to worry about, or you're crazy and dangerous -- either way we've had to keep you on a short leash, 'cuz if we lock you up we'll never know. and we can't tell anybody because we don't know how deep this river runs. if there is a river. you got away from me.
oh ben. the thing is? i want to believe you. god help me, ben, i do.
everybody else wants you junked up on thorazine and just not a problem any more.
listen to yourself. you're a poster boy for paranoid fantasies. beat. silence, broken only by their breathing.
on the edge. she badges anderson, and talks to him. he nods, moves over and talks quietly to raymond as raymond signs his name in the voter registration log. then lets rosie guide him to a booth on the end --
it's clean.
fights through the throng of students -- -- to the office door. now it's locked. she bangs on it -- kicks it open --
is off to one side with a couple other feds and a security guy, reviewing the entry tapes from earlier --
stop. -- there's marco. the image slows. marco moves herky-jerky through the security station, stop-action. rosie pretends she's interested in somebody else -- then:
no .  the tape resumes triple-time --
a tiny island of worry in a sea of celebration. the huge light grids ripple with patriotic bunting effects. she scans the crowd, the perimeter, the balconies .
we know that. marco looks past her, to the water, which stretches out from here, as if to forever.