When I look back on it now, I feel sorry for Gary. When all was said and done, he was just a little kid, and I guess he needed friends. But all Paul and I knew that night was - that we wanted to go home.
Kevin! What are you doing here? Did something happen? Are you OK?
KevinYeah, we're fine. We just felt like coming home.
It was the truth. But not the whole truth. And looking at my mom and my dad - standing there in their bathrobes, worried about me - I felt a little sick about that. I don't know why, but that night - for the first time in a long time - I didn't have a single nightmare.
Kevin
I just have to know if you like me or not. And don't give any of that... "like me" like me stuff.
Well, that was it. A straightforward, face-to-face, yes-or-no question. And I was going to stand there until I got my answer.
Kevin
"I don't know"?! What do you mean you don't know? [Frowns]
I mean I don't know. I really don't know! I wish everyone would just leave me alone! I don't know what I'm doing.
This was something new. I mean, I always figured girls knew exactly what they wanted. They knew - they had a plan. Or maybe they didn't. Maybe they were just as confused as we were. Isn't that great? It - it's horrible. They don't know either. That means nobody knows. As I stood there that cold night, I realized for the first time in a long time that Winnie and I were feeling the same thing. We were both completely... miserable.
[Jack drives up to Arnold residence in a green sedan]
And so, we finally got our new car. It wasn't red, it wasn't a convertible... heck, it wasn't even a Mustang. But it was brand-new. And it was pretty cool.
[Neighbors crowd around the Arnold's new car admiring its features. Kevin sees that Jack has hired a tow truck to transport the old white station wagon]
Kevin
What will happen to the old car?
Not sure. Too old for resale. I will probably have it disassembled and sell it for parts.
Of course... Dad got his shot at king-for-a-day... and we were happy for him. But that afternoon, I began to understand what Dad had being going through.
[Flashbacks are shown of a younger Arnold family using the white station wagon for various activities]
There was more to that old car than fuel pumps and crankshafts. There was part of all of us in that car. The places we'd gone, the things we'd done... the family we had been. The family that was moving on. And for the first time... I understood the value of what my father had put into it. And why it was so hard to let it go.
Prior to Mr. Collins' death, Kevin, in his anger towards Mr. Collins, did not take his midterm seriously. Instead, drawing funny faces on it as a form of protest
DMr. DiPerna
Kevin, may I speak to you?
Kevin glances nervously at the stack of midterns
DMr. DiPerna
These are all the midterns. All except yours, that is. It seems yours was missplaced. Your midterm is missing and you need a grade. Any suggestions?
Kevin
No sir.
DMr. DiPerna
Well, Collins did.
Mr. DiPerna presents a blank test with Kevin's name at the top. Kevin Arnold is written in Mr. Collins' handwriting
DMr. DiPerna
50 minutes, Arnold. You may begin; good luck.
As I took that test, I thought about a lot of things: about how I knew him, and yet I didn’t. About how he treated me like a man, and how I’d acted like a child. About how I let him down, and now I wouldn’t. The thing is, even though I could almost feel him in the room, I knew I didn’t need him for the answers, or the praise. I was on my own now.
Kevin writes serious answers. As time passes, Mr. Diperna approaches and Kevin hands the test to him
Kevin
You don't have to grade it...It's an A.
Kevin gets up and walks towards the classroom door. He hears a familiar voice.
Kevin Turns back towards Mr. Collin's desk and sees him sitting there. Looking proudly back at Kevin.
Kevin
Good job Mr. Collins.
They share a moment and then, without saying a word, Mr. Collins looks down at his papers and continues to grade them.
Kevin watches the desk for a moment. Long enough to see it return to being empty. He pauses and walks out the room and down the hall towards the exit.
[Cut to Kevin's yearbook]
Teachers never die. They live in your memory forever. They were there when you arrived, they were there when you left. Like fixtures. Once in a while they taught you something. But not that often. And, you never really knew them, any more than they knew you. Still, for a while, you believed in them. And, if you were lucky, maybe there was one who believed in you.
YYearbook
In Memoriam, Stephen Collins 1919-1970
That day... I realized something from this man that I was trying so hard not to be like. He understood the value of money. And the cost of it.
Kevin
Hey - it's too bad about that putt.
Kevin
Coulda made it, Dad!
I guess Dad knew he could lose a game, and still not lose his manhood. His pride didn't hinge on a stupid shot. Or some shiny new clubs. And I suddenly knew exactly what I wanted to use my money for.
Kevin
Dad! Can I buy you lunch?
It was the first time I ever really said thank you to the man for all he'd given me.
At some point in your teenage years, if you're lucky, you make a discovery. You find out you're actually good at something. It's that critical juncture, where talent becomes...expertise - kinda. It's your chance to start or, end up flat on your face.
CCoach
Why'd you let him pin you like that?
Course, looking back, I probably just should have promised to do better. But instead -
Kevin
Yeah, well...you know, these shorts are really hard to wrestle in.
Kevin
By the way, congratulations on your SAT scores.
I mean, no sense being pigheaded. The way I saw it - the world was big enough for all of us. And besides, so what if women could influence government, take over big business, alter domestic policy, dominate education, make the world a better place. In one important respect, we had still a lot to teach them. Yep, when it came to being jerks, they still had a lot to learn.
Kevin
Perfect. This is perfect.
And that just about did it.
Kevin
Me? What's wrong with me?
It was time to tell him exactly how I felt. About him, about Mom, about the stupid gin games and the dumb boyfriends and the idiotic dog.
Kevin
I hate this place!
Yeah, that was it. In a nutshell.
(Jack chuckles)
Kevin
What's so funny?
You're starting to sound just like your mother.
Kevin
What?
Kevin
Yeah, but Mom loves this place!
Yeah, for a day or two maybe. Trust me, 21 years ago she couldn't wait to get out.
Kevin
You're kidding.
Nah. Your mother wanted a lot more from life than a small town like this had to offer.
Kevin
So why didn't she tell Grandma and Grandpa about it? She never says a word.
She used to. They couldn't hear her. Parents are like that sometimes.
And I guess right about then, a few things started to fall into place.
(returns from the dance) Hi!
It was… fine. But when the invitation comes for my 30th reunion…
Roger… Roger's the same old jerk he always was.
The Wonder Years · 239 quotes
