Rolfe Whitehouse: [First lines] This is the story of my older brother's strange criminal behaviour and disappearance. We who loved him no longer speak of Wade. It's as if he never existed.
Jill: Don't worry Dad. I love you, I really do. But I wanna go home.
Glen Whitehouse: [Drunk] Christ Sally! You are such a good person. Capital G! By God you are... you are so much better than I am. I am no goddamn good at all. And you... you are truly a good person. Like a fucking saint!
Lena Whitehouse: How about you Rolfe? Are you saved?
Rolfe Whitehouse: No, I'm not.
Lena Whitehouse: But then you'll be in hell.
Rolfe Whitehouse: I guess I will. Me and Mom and Wade and Pop. We'll all be there together.
Rolfe Whitehouse: [Narrating] You will say that I should have known terrible things were about to happen. You will say that I was responsible. But even so, what could I have done by then? Wade lived on the edge of his emotions. He was always first to receive the brunt of our father's anger. He had no perspective to retreat to, even in a crisis.
Rolfe Whitehouse: [Last lines] The historical facts are known by everyone. All of Lawford, all of New Hampshire, some of Massachusetts. Facts do not make history. Our stories, Wade's and mine, describe the lives of the boys and men for thousands of years: boys who were beaten by their fathers, whose capacity for love and trust was crippled almost at birth, men whose best hope for connection with other human beings lay in detachment, as if life were over. It's how we keep from destroying in turn our own children and terrorizing the women who have the misfortune to love us; how we absent ourselves from the tradition of male violence; how we decline the seduction of revenge. Jack's truck turned up three days later in a shopping mall in Toronto. Wade killed Jack, just as surely as Jack did not kill Evan Twombley, even accidentally. The link between Jack and Twombley, LaRiviere and Mel Gordon existed only in Wade's wild imaginings. And briefly, I admit, in mine as well. LaRiviere and Mel Gordon were indeed in business. The Parker Mountain Ski Resort is now advertised across the country. The community of Lawford, as such, no longer exists. It is an economic zone between Littleton and Catamount. The house is still in Wade's name, and I keep paying taxes on it. It remains empty. Now and then, I drive out there and sit in my car, and wonder, why not let it go? Why not let LaRiviere buy it and build the condominiums he wants there? We want to believe Wade died that same November, froze to death on a bench or a sidewalk. You cannot understand how a man, a normal man, a man like you and me, could do such a terrible thing. Unless the police happen to arrest a vagrant who turns out to be Wade Whitehouse, there will be no more mention of him. Or his friend, Jack Hewitt. Or our father. The story will be over, except that I continue.
Rolfe Whitehouse: I was always careful around Pop. I was a careful child. And I'm a careful adult. But at least I was never afflicted with that man's anger.
Wade Whitehouse: That's what you think.
Glen Whitehouse: I've got sons, goddamn it! By God have I got sons!
[At his wife's wake]
Glen Whitehouse: Not a goddamn one of you is worth a hair on that good woman's head!
Wade Whitehouse: It's not funny now. I'm a cop and I gotta listen to all the complaints people make. I'm not a kid anymore. You change.
Jill: I bet you did lots of bad things.
Wade Whitehouse: What are you talking about?
Jill: I just think you used to be bad.
Wade Whitehouse: No. I didn't used to be bad. No sir. Where do you get this stuff? From your mother?
Jill: No. She doesn't talk about you anymore.
Wade Whitehouse: Love? What the fuck do you know about love?
Glen Whitehouse: Love? I'm made of love!
Wade Whitehouse: I think there's some dirty business going on in this town.
Rolfe Whitehouse: But at least I was never afflicted by that man's violence.
Wade Whitehouse: That's what *you* think.
Wade Whitehouse: I'm free of you. You're not on my back anymore. You see how easy it is?
Wade Whitehouse: You need me. Even pop for God's sake he needs me! This *town* needs me!
Wade Whitehouse: He's a lot like me when I was his age.
Margie Fogg: You wouldn't have done anything like that. Shoot somebody.
Wade Whitehouse: You know I get the feeling like a whipped dog some days. Some night I'm gonna bite back, I swear!
Wade Whitehouse: You know she won't be here for a half hour. You think you can stand it here that long?
Wade Whitehouse: If you ever touch her again, I'll kill you! I swear it!
Glen Whitehouse: [Leers] Still standing up for your little brother huh?
Glen Whitehouse: That's what I've got for children. Jesus freaks and candy-asses!
Wade Whitehouse: Lillian, listen to me. I don't want her to go.
Lillian Whitehouse Horner: Please don't make a scene. I am not trying- nobody is trying to win a round, so don't make it any worse than it is!
Wade Whitehouse: Well I'm not making it any worse, you are!
Rolfe Whitehouse: [about his mother's death] Pop was okay but out of it. Worse than usual, maybe, but no drunker than usual.
Rolfe Whitehouse: Who else benefits if Twombley is suddenly dead?
Wade Whitehouse: [after a pause] I don't know. You tell me.
Rolfe Whitehouse: Okay. It's likely there are people in the union who don't want Twombley to testify. That probably includes his son-in-law, who's vice president, and will probably be the next president.
Lillian Whitehouse Horner: God, you make me sick.
Wade Whitehouse: What?
Lillian Whitehouse Horner: I can't believe you would you sink this low.
Wade Whitehouse: Low as what? What have I done?
Lillian Whitehouse Horner: Your lawyer called.
Wade Whitehouse: Yeah. Is it bad to want to see your own daughter?