All language subtitles for The Runner Stumbles (1979)

Afraid it's open and shut,
Toby, open and shut. - Figures.

Take him down, Amos.

You callin me to
testify, Toby? - Nope.

Foot was stickin'
right out of the ground.

He didn't even finish burying her. - Amos,
everyone in Solona has heard your story

a hundred times in
the past couple of months.

I'm Toby Felker.

Hey, wait out front now.

Oh, I have to protect you, Toby.

You gotta listen so you can tell
your buddies what's happening.

Now do you want to leave now
or do you want me to tell the sheriff?

Boy, you better be
pleading guilty,

'cause he ain't never
got nobody off.

You know, you don't have
to take me as your lawyer.

Of course, you do know

that I'm the only
lawyer in the valley.

Do you want to defend me?
- I don't know.

I'm not a catholic.
- What are ya?

Nothin'.
- Doubt that.

Well, I'm...
Fallen away methodist.

I'm a lawyer for the
testate and the intestate.

And I argue for the just
dispersal of pots, pans.

Not...

I ain't never argued
a murder case.

And I drink.

Can you believe I'm innocent?
- It's not easy.

A celibate priest
and a bride of Christ.

I'm not a priest anymore.

I mean, this is gonna
mean a full trial.

I'm gonna have to
know a hell of a lot.

Like, uh, why did
you try to escape?

I didn't. - Come on, the sheriff
arrested you at the train stop.

I wasn't trying to run away.
I couldn't have done the thing.

I'm not a violent man.

Why did you
ask for another nun?

The other two sisters
were ill, they couldn't teach.

Did you ask for a young one?

Yes.

There was a lot to do.

When exactly did she arrive?

Spring.

There were flowers.

I remember the train was late.

Thank you very much.
- You're welcome. All aboard!

Oh, hello, father!
It's me.

I didn't know it
would be so beautiful.

All those trees,
it's almost a wilderness.

Welcome, sister.

Hello, sister!
Welcome!

That's Erna Webber
and her father.

He hasn't long to go.
They're in our parish.

I've fallen in love
with this place.

It could be an infatuation.

No, I don't think so.

Monsignor Nicholson told me
that the Indian name for Solona

was Land of rainbows.
- Monsignor. - Mm- hm.

Yes, he's very fond
of Indian lore.

I must tell him
I've yet to see a rainbow.

You have to know where to look.

Hello, father!
- Come visit us sometime.

The ladies of the coal mines.
- Do they come to church?

Sometimes.

Coal mines, so that's what they
do here. - The mines are shut down.

Mostly they just wait
in hopes they'll reopen.

It's only the remnants
of the town.

The nights are long.

Sometimes those
trees you like close in.

But if you keep busy, there's no
time for melancholy. - Melancholy?

Thinking perhaps of what
you've renounced for the church.

I don't believe in that, father.
- You don't? - No.

Mother Vincent used to say
that to me, a guardian angel.

I believe everything
I've done is part of me.

Had to be a child then
to be a nun now.

I'm a person who's a nun,
not a nun who used to be a person.

You said that to mother Vincent?

Of course.
- I see.

Well, now we know why
you're here, don't we?

You're offended.

No, I wouldn't say that.

Well, if you're annoyed
with me... - I'm not annoyed.

Father, please don't
be angry with me

before you even know me.
- I am not angry. Except by the fact

that you keep telling me
that I am.

It's beautiful.

Hello, sister. - Hello.
- Our housekeeper, Mrs. Shandig.

Would you like some tea, sister?
I just took out some fresh biscuits.

That would be grand, thank you.
- You can bring it to the convent.

We'll go over and get sister
settled in. - The convent?

Why not, Mrs. Shandig?

The sisters are a tad cranky.

Mm.

Oh, sister,

I don't know if they
told you, but the nuns,

well, they're a good deal
older than you are.

I understand.

Coming in, sisters.

Well, sisters,
I give you sister Rita.

Sister Mary immaculata,
sister Mary Martha.

Oh, I'm sorry you've
not been feeling well, sisters.

There's nothing wrong with me,
sister. It's her, she's the sick one.

No, she's much worse,
I got it from her.

You didn't get it from
me, I got it from you.

Better get those out of here.

The flowers, sister.

Now she'll probably
sneeze all night long.

Yes, well, we'll
take our tea outside.

You rest, sisters.

Sister, I want you
to understand.

I really wasn't angry.

Oh, gracious, you're still not
thinking about that, are you?

I'm sorry, what a start.

You see, I'm not accustomed
to an exchange of views.

The other nuns here never
talk much, at least not to me.

I do enjoy discussing
points of view, I do,

but the people here
expect the priest

to stick to holy subjects.

Listen, I'm plain out
of practice in conversation.

Oh, I think a conversation
is as essential as breathing.

You know, when
I first came to Solona,

I, too, made a
completely terrible start.

I don't feel that I've made
a completely terrible start.

No, no, you haven't.

You're awfully quick
to pick up on things.

I've done it again,
I've offended you in some way.

No, no, you haven't.

Maybe we need someone around
here to keep us on our toes.

Not from what I hear.

Monsignor Nicholson told me you
finished first in your seminary class.

Class of 11. - You know, one
would think you would have gone

straight to an important
parish like St. Boniface's.

My ideas were radical.
- That's hard to believe.

Are you going to eat
that muffin, father?

It's yours, sister.

You eat with great gusto.

Oh, thank you.

Radical or not, I'm surprised

you haven't earned
a larger parish by now.

Yes, well,
I needed a quiet place

to work on my
book anyway. - Hm?

It's called Augustinian order:
An examination and extension.

A little pompous.

Just a little.
- Yes, I know.

Wasn't my choice actually.

Sister...

I do hope we'll manage
to get along together.

I never doubted it, father.

Oh, aren't you going
to tell me the story?

What story?
- About when you first came

to Solona.
- Oh, yes, that.

Well, when I arrived
here, no one met me.

I asked Maurice Prindle,
he runs the grocery store, for directions.

And he sent me to that
little church down there.

And when I got there
and saw the sign out front,

I realized the joke
he'd played on me.

It said, "Solona
Evangelical methodist."

Rivard.

Listen to me.
Rivard.

I did not kill sister Rita.

I believe in god,
the father almighty.

Just that I don't have
the church anymore.

She haunts me.
- She haunts you?

Well, I don't believe in ghosts,

not even the holy ones.

I read, I pray,
I do calisthenics all day

just to be tired, just to sleep,

just not to think of her.

Can you hear yourself, Rivard?

You sound like a guilty
man, for god's sake.

Now I can help you
if I got something to go on.

I mean, I realize I haven't had
a hell of a lot of experience,

but I'm a good lawyer.

What are you still
doing here in Solona?

What?
- A woman.

Same as you.
That's not the same as you.

Mine...

Mine just up and
married somebody else.

You know something?

I do believe
that you're innocent.

Why?

I don't know.

Maybe it's what your
theology calls a leap of faith.

You don't suppose
that I could get a jury

to believe that a nun
committed suicide, could I? - No.

So she was dead
when you left, right?

They told me when
they arrested me.

But she was alive when
you left Holy Rosary.

Yes. You're certain? - Yes.
- Well, then who saw you leave

that knows you left before
sister Rita was killed? - I don't know.

Wasn't your housekeeper,
Mrs. Shandig.

She didn't? - No, no, no.
When she couldn't calm herself,

they put her over
in the hospital,

and she didn't make
any sense at all.

Maurice saw me.
- Maurice Prindle?

He was just opening the store.
I had asked him to replant some flowers

at the Holy Rosary.

Replant flowers?

It was important.

Was.
- All right.

It's something.

I'll talk to Maurice. Maybe
I can get somewhere on this.

Amos!

I am good.

Hell, I'm already better
than I thought I'd be.

Don't hurt yourself, Amos.

What?
- "What?"

You gonna open the door?

I just know, you're gonna
make a great sheriff some day.

Maybe even a governor.

Oh, that's very funny, Felker.

Just wait till you meet her

wait till you see

my rumble seat gal and me

just wait till you meet her

my rumble seat gal

ain't nobody sweeter

my rumble seat gal

the minute you give her
the double o

you're bound to love her

really, really

some nights we go parking,
the rumble seat's fine

she doesn't mind sparking,
that baby of mine

just wait till you meet her

wait till you see

my rumble seat gal and me

Now I've written private notes
to each one of you on your compositions.

I liked yours, Kathleen.

Randy, there's a
note for you. Louise.

Louise, a little less time
on lipstick

and a little more on english composition
might make a difference to your grades.

Carrie, I like your
story about the dog.

Father.

Good work.
- Thanks.

James.

What's wrong with
your hands, James?

It's sister Martha.
- What about sister Martha?

Sophie?
- Multiplication tables, sister.

What do you mean?
- Sister Martha.

She uses the ruler
when you get things wrong.

I see.

Would you please come up to
the front of the class, James?

Now, what I want is for you
to read your paper aloud,

all right?
- All right.

Just all of you listen to how
specific James's reasons are.

"What I like about
Solona, three reasons:

I like tuffy, my dog,

'cause he's brown
and likes my spinach.

Otherwise I would
have to eat spinach

and it would be my worst reason.

I like running 'cause I am fast,

and I like the summer because
the boards in the outhouse

are warm and toasty.

Them are my three
reasons. The end."

And "them" are pretty
good reasons, James.

Now, tomorrow we'll work
on pronoun agreement, okay?

Okay.

Is there something you'd like
to say to the class, father?

No, not now.

Class dismissed.

You know what we're missing
up at Holy Rosary? Flowers.

I mean, it would be nice if
when people looked up at Holy Rosary

they saw flowers, don't you think?
- What was the name of the song

you were teaching
the children, sister?

It's called
"My rumble seat gal."

Sister Martha
always taught latin songs.

Yes, I heard their sanctus.
I'm sure god would appreciate it

if they'd learn
to carry a melody

before lifting their voices
heavenwards again.

You don't always have to say the first
thing that comes into your mind, sister.

Some people might
find that song flippant.

Do you, father?

I haven't really
thought about it.

Well, I'm certain
you try and bring people

to the higher things by starting
at their level too, don't you?

No, not always.

Well, I mean, if you want to get into
a locked room, you have two choices.

You can bang your head
against the wall

until you make a hole
or you can find the key.

That's very clever, sister.

I don't think we want to belong
to the headbanging school.

Well, sister Martha,
with her switches

and gregorian chants,
certainly does.

Let's all try
to keep an open mind.

Maurice Prindle always has
those flowers out front.

I think we can afford
a marigold or two.

Oh, these might look lovely in front of
the convent. - Oh, no, I don't want those.

I want flowers that'll keep on
blooming right up to the first frost.

These?
- No. Oh, these!

About six boxes of these and six of
those together in front of Holy Rosary,

don't you think?
- Whatever you say, sister.

Any mail today, Maurice?

Are those other two nuns any
better? - No, not yet, thank you.

Lucky for you, father, they
finally sent you a young one, eh?

Uh, Mrs. Shandig, Erna said she'd
like us to pick up some tomato soup

for her, too. - Better
get in there and help her.

I generally have to.

Mrs. Shandig.
- Yes, sister?

I always make our soup, sister.

I could teach you to read.

I'm much older, you know.

We'll start right away then.

If I could...

You know, father,
he works so hard on his book.

Maybe I could help him a little,

if I could read.
- I understand.

I want to help
him so much, sister.

He brought me into
the church, you know.

Here we go.

Papa, father Rivard's
come to pay you a visit.

Wonderful, that's fine.

Hello, father.
Nice to see you, Mrs. Shandig.

This is yours, Erna. - Oh,
thank you. How are you, sister?

Oh, fine, Erna, how are you?
- Very well, thank you.

Papa will be so glad you came.
- Matt, you look good.

How are you feeling?

It's good to see you,
father. Good to see you.

Hello, Matt. - Nice to see you. - How
are you, Matt? - Thank you for coming.

Nice to see you. - Would you like some
lemonade? - No, thank you. - No thanks.

So, Matt, you're feeling better?

Papa only had to get up
twice last night.

That's true.
By the way, father,

did you hear about
the mine reopening?

No.
- I didn't hear that.

You didn't hear?
I thought everybody knew.

Maybe only a
couple more months.

Amos heard it from
some fellow who knows.

When it opens, I'll be ready.

Oh, Erna, would you take
that food inside please?

Yes, papa.
- Bless you.

I found out they don't
pay no compensation

lest you die on the job.

But with the mines reopening,

I'll be able to leave Erna
enough to get by on.

If anything happened,
Mr. Webber,

we'd take care of Erna.
- You mean that for sure?

Absolutely.
- And you'd stand by, father?

Of course, Matt.

But the mine's
definitely gonna open.

They tested number
three shaft just last year.

Remember?

I remember, Matt.

Well, we have some
other calls to make.

Take care of yourself, Matt.
God bless you.

Mr. Webber's worse, isn't he?

And the mine?
- Pipe dream.

Those mines were mined out
years ago. There's nothing left.

Bye!

P- e- a- s.

Peas, peas.

B- e- a- n- s.

Beans, beans, yes, beans.

Sister, sister, what is...
are these? What's this?

"Into saucepan, empty soup
and one can of water.

Stir."
- Is that saucepan?

Mm- hm.
- Oh, that's hard.

Isn't it time
for the convent tray?

Yes, yes, father,
it's there, it's all ready.

I'll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Shandig.
- Right after school. - Right after school.

What right after school?
- Um... what...

It's all right, Mrs. Shandig.
Sister.

How are our two patients, sister?

They are not without
their complaints.

They had one or two
before they got sick.

I find that hard to believe.

Well, you can laugh after all.

Well, yes, I'm not always
as serious as you think.

Good, it becomes you.

You know, you were right.
- What? - The flowers.

It does look better
up here. - Thank you.

And the children seem
happy now, as well as learning.

I hope so, father.
- That's important to me.

You know, I started this
school. - Monsignor told me.

Of course, it didn't work out
just the way I had hoped.

Until you came,
I thought all I'd done

was make the public
school classes smaller.

You know, I doubt Monsignor
would understand this,

but sending such old nuns,

some people just
don't have the knack.

Coming. - Well, I
should be off on my walk.

You'd be welcome to come
along, if you think you can keep up.

Just give me a moment.

Coming in, sisters!

You have to pick the steepest
walk in Solona? - It's worth it.

I have a special place up here.

I used to have a special
place to go when I was a girl.

That sounds like
a very long time ago.

Don't make fun of me, father.

Close your eyes, sister.

Now, open them.

There it is.

It's very peaceful.

Very sad.

"There comes an hour of sadness

with the setting of the sun,

not for the sins committed
but the things I have not done."

You do have the words, sister.

Mother Vincent
recited that to me once.

I stitched it on a sampler
and left it on her bed

for her name day.

Well, can we sit a minute before
you run back down? - If you need to.

I appreciate you teaching
Mrs. Shandig to read.

Very good of you
to take the time with her.

I appreciate her giving me
time away from the convent.

You know, Mrs. Shandig doesn't
want me to know about her past life.

It doesn't really matter,
does it?

No, except I want to know.

Well, she wasn't married.

She lived out in one
of the mining camps.

Her man did the hunting
for the camp,

and she cooked the game he shot.

One day, he left
and never came back.

The men got pretty rough
with her after that.

She escaped by following
the train tracks into the town.

Someone told her I was
looking for a housekeeper.

And you converted her.
- Mm.

Wow.

Once you get started,
you have the words too, father.

Once I get started.

I, too, thought I'd have
a larger parish by now, sister.

Too much headbanging, I guess.

You sound much older
than you are.

I've slowed a step or two.

Not by the way
you've climbed this hill.

That's the kind of challenge
I still accept willingly.

Possible.

What do you want
that's so impossible?

Oh, that's hard to explain.

This town. See, I was
thinking if I could get someone,

Maurice Prindle maybe,
to donate the hardware,

I could build a swing behind the
rectory. And not just for us.

All the children could come.
- Well, that sounds possible.

But then I begin to wonder, if
it's worth the trouble. - I think it is.

Well, I've sort of lost
my enthusiasm for confrontation.

Well, the worst
anyone can say is no.

No, maybe.

You're right, of course.

I'll tell you what, I may
just go see Maurice tomorrow.

Good.

Why do you suppose
monsignor Nicholson

said I shouldn't talk with you?

I don't know. - Everything
seems all right when we talk.

Yes.
- At least I feel like a person.

I get so weary of hearing
sister's book, sister's Rosary,

sister's this, sister's that.

No one ever refers to
me just as a person.

Did monsignor really say that?

Yes, he did.

Amo, amas, amat!

I love, you love, he loves.

Yeah, Latin isn't so hard,
is it?

I like pax vobiscum.
- Ick, that sounds like a disease.

Well, do you know what it means?
- Mass is over! - No!

Pax vobiscum, peace be with you.

Time for your eggnog, father.

Father, can I ask you something?

It's personal.
I don't want to pry, I don't.

I know, it's too thick,
don't mix.

But you seem so bothered.

Well, I am bothered.

Oh, father.

Everybody says
you're the finest priest

they ever knew.
- No one says that.

Oh, yes, they do.
But...

well, even priests
have to relax sometimes.

You've been twice as
busy since sister came.

All I have to do
is prepare a sermon,

visit the sick, build
another outhouse for sister Rita

so the boys and the girls
can have recess together,

write this impossible book,

and at the same time
avoid getting fat

on those repulsive egg nogs.

I'm sorry.
I am sorry.

Give it to me.
- Only if you want it.

I do.

You know, father, I never
understand about your book.

It's too dull to understand.

Maybe if you had
somebody to talk it over with.

Well, who could I discuss
it with? - Sister Rita.

Sister Rita?

She's educated.

Yes, but all those
radical ideas.

"My rumble seat gal."

She is young, father.
Give her a chance.

All right, we'll invite her
over for supper.

Oh, no, father.
- What's wrong?

You can't be alone with a nun.

What would people say?
- Well, believe it or not, Mrs. Shandig,

I am capable
of remarkable propriety.

I know that, father.
- Father?

Father, I want you to hear this.

Father, the children and I
just had this wonderful idea.

We thought that...

Oh, am I interrupting something?

Well, the other nuns
always sent a note over

before they came,

otherwise the children feel

they could burst in here
any time they wanted to.

I'm sorry, father.

Sister Rita's idea was to teach

art appreciation
to the children.

Watercolors, collages,
and the like.

It was not part
of our regular curriculum.

Father Rivard's ideas
were sometimes radical.

However, permission was granted.

Monsignor Nicholson,

is it not true that at the time
of the murder of sister Rita,

you were the chief administrator of the
local diocese of the holy Roman church?

I was and am bishop Kinsey's
secretary, a position, I think,

of greater responsibility
than the title suggests.

Did you send father Rivard
to this out of the way post

because he was a troublemaker?
- Father Rivard was incredibly energetic,

but he was rather an aggravation

to the senior priest wherever we
put him. - So you sent him here?

Not at first. The bishop
brought him into the chancery

to be able to guide him
personally. - Did that work?

Regrettably, the bishop had
to ask me to stop father Rivard

from entering his office
without an appointment.

He would burst in
no matter who was present,

bring up some obscure
theological point,

suggest his ideas for raising
money through games of chance,

as is donein
certain eastern cities.

Ultimately, he usurped
a responsibility that was mine,

and mine alone.

The older nuns had come down
with consumption.

All I'm saying is that it's
consumption, I know that now.

All right,
there's a train tomorrow.

I'll send both sisters
back to the motherhouse.

No, no, they can't be moved.

Priests don't
deal with the motherhouse,

only with the monsignor.

What about my teaching?
- Oh, I don't see that that's any problem.

As long as the children aren't
using the same eating utensils,

towels, and other
common household goods.

She can stay in the rectory.
- Well, her order doesn't allow that.

We have holy laws guide us,
doctor. - Whatever, whatever.

You four can
figure that one out.

I want to see you.

The people up here think
of consumption as a plague.

It's not anymore.
The sisters'll live.

I don't want any panic
setting in in town.

Absolutely no one is to know
anything about this up here.

I understand, doctor.

Sister.

You can ask monsignor
for permission

for me to move in
to the rectory.

He'll refuse.

Well, tell him we're doing it
for the sake of the children.

Monsignor sees things
only as the rules dictate.

What must be must be.

Very little must be, father.

I don't want to leave.
The school is my responsibility.

Mine too.
And in addition,

your life in Christ
is my responsibility.

Well, what about your
responsibility to the children?

Father!

If you don't write, I'll have to leave.
I don't think mother Vincent thinks

I'm a very good teacher anyway.

She didn't want to send me
up here in the first place.

I have been good,
haven't I? - Of course.

Then do you want
me to leave? Is that it?

I didn't say
I wanted you to leave.

I don't.

I want you to stay.

You insist on making
everything a personal question.

Everything is, isn't it?

Recently, yes.

Sister, sister!
- What?

I'm not crying,
so don't say I am.

Of course not.

That's the biggest
splinter I've ever seen.

I can take it out,
but you'll have to be brave.

I am.

I'm going to write monsignor
for permission for you

to live in the rectory.

We'll try to do the best we can

under the circumstances, sister.

I know we will, father.

Father?

You better tell Mrs. Shandig.

Just one more confrontation,
father.

Are you gonna take it
out or not? - I'm gonna.

God damn!
- James!

I don't like that kind
of talk and you know it.

I won't have you use
the lord's name in vain.

Is that understood?

Well?

Pax vobiscum, sister.

Pax vobiscum, James.

What did the sisters say to you
about moving into the rectory?

Did they say
anything to you? - Enough.

Hm.
- Mrs. Shandig, too.

I know.

She feels at the very least
we shouldn't be eating together.

She thinks there'd
be ramifications.

What does that mean?
- That people will talk.

There's nothing to talk about.

Well, people in small towns
like to think the worst.

Well, I don't think that's true.

I do.

When I was a young man, I fell
terribly and instantly in love

with a merchant's daughter

who wore blonde sausage curls.

No nice girls in our town

had ever dared wear
sausage curls before.

It all would have come to naught,
except she found my eyelashes

to be a marvel
of the modern world.

Everyone expected the worst
to happen to us,

but they fussed and tore at me
like a dog with a knotted sock

till I thought like they did.

Finally, she was sent away.

It was my fault.
- Well, I hardly think so.

Hm.

Of course, father, she was
right about the eyelashes.

I get the feeling we're being watched
by the ladies of the coal mine.

Mm- hm.
- Father!

Hello, father.
- Marie.

Um, I'd really like
to talk to you alone.

Give us a moment.
- Of course.

What's wrong, Marie?

Look, father, you were
always very nice to me.

I want to warn you.
- About what?

You don't walk
around town with her.

Sister Rita?

They say awful things
about you and her, father.

I don't care
if they're true or not,

but don't wave it
right in their faces.

Thank you, Marie,
I appreciate the warning.

You know, I'd like
to see you in church.

Ah, now, don't start in.

Look, I've had my fill of the church.
The way the holier-than-thous look at me,

I can get all that I need
without ever leaving the porch.

I think you'll find it
different now.

Look, whatever you're
up to with her, I don't care.

What's the sense
of letting everyone else

know your private business?

You've grown up,
Marie Victoria Hiskovich.

Yeah.

Marie thinks we shouldn't
walk through town together.

Well, that almost means
we have to, doesn't it?

Sister tells me you're full
of questions these days,

Louise.
- Sister Rita's nice.

Mm.
Good teacher.

Do you think
sister Rita's nice, father?

Yes.
- How much?

What do you mean?
- I like her a lot.

Well, you should.

Do you?

How much do you
think about this?

What?
- Sister and me.

Never.

Lies are venial sins, Louise.

What if someone
loved you? - I see.

Priests love everyone,
don't they?

Yes, everyone,

and that's not a love
to marry by.

Love between a man and a woman

isn't controlled
by the same ideals

as it is when you love people.

Everyone.

You understand?

No.

Love between a man and
a woman is more personal.

What would you do if
someone said they loved you?

Louise, sister Rita and I

have to be clear-headed
to help people.

Now how could we be married,
worried about each other,

bothered about ice bills,
children's teeth.

I didn't mean sister Rita.

I see.

What would you say?

I suggest you discipline your mind

as well as your actions, Louise.

I'm afraid it's as great a sin
to think something as to do it.

Can I go now?

Those are some ideas
she has there, father.

Aren't they?

Coming in, sisters.

All right,
say what you have to say.

I don't want to say this,
father, but I must.

We're concerned over your decision
to move sister into the rectory.

I have made no decision.

I'm frightened because
I am also a human being

and you are a human being
with a man's feelings,

just as I have, and have
always had a woman's feelings.

We have our vows,
but we remain fallible.

Can a man take fire in
his bosom and not be burned?

Stop these incantations,
sister Martha,

and let father tell us
what he is going to do.

Very little, sister. I wrote
monsignor exactly as I should,

and he will make the decision.

You see, it's not a proper
request, and we cannot agree.

I didn't ask you to agree.

There are things more
important than any temptation

you could imagine for me.

The school is changing
those children for the better,

something we never
managed to do.

I want you to stop
talking about sister and me.

Do you understand?

God bless you, sisters.

Any mail for father Rivard?
- I think so.

"Directions.

Into saucepan, empty soup
and one can of water.

Stir."
Well, I'll be damned.

Most likely, Mr. Prindle.

Looks like a letter
from the big boss.

Monsignor.
Oh.

Oh, my.
Oh, they're at the picnic.

Just wait till you meet her

my rumble seat gal

ain't nobody sweeter

my rumble seat gal

the minute you give her
the double o

you're bound to love her

really, really

some nights we go parking,
the rumble seat's fine

she doesn't mind sparking,
that baby of mine

just wait till you meet her

just wait till you see

my rumble seat gal and me

it's here.

What does it say?

He appears to be very
definite. - About sister?

What does it say about sister?

It's all right. It's all
right for sister to move in.

Oh, sister, I'm so glad.

What's this business about
sister Rita living with you?

She wasn't living with me,
she was staying in the rectory.

Why didn't you tell me that before?
- It's not important. - Oh, no?

The prosecutor can build his whole case
on this. All he needed was a motive,

and now you're gonna hand it to him
on a silver platter, crime of passion.

He can't prove that simply because she
moved into... - He doesn't have to prove it,

all he needs is a situation!
Don't you understand?

That's what all protestants
think happens

behind those heavy
lace curtains in rectories.

If there's one thing they
hate worse than catholics

in this town, it's sex,
you can take that from me.

Well, that's open to question.
- Oh, I did talk to Maurice,

and he went up to Holy Rosary
and planted the flowers like you asked.

Well, then call him to testify.

I can't, he's a living
example of a hostile witness.

Seems the sheriff
had already found the body.

You asked Maurice
to plant the flowers

right where she was buried.

It's all right, I'm gonna
see if there's any way

of getting Mrs. Shandig
brought from the hospital.

You know, it was Dr. McNabb who said
the sister couldn't live in the convent.

Why didn't you send her to another convent?
- I would have had to close the school.

Oh, that's a lousy reason.
Who's gonna believe that?

Why did she have to live in
the rectory, of all places?

Mrs. Shandig?

You lied to me, father.

I read the letter. Couldn't help
it, I found it when I was cleaning.

He wants her to
stay at the convent.

Mrs. Shandig,
he doesn't understand.

Do you want sister
to catch consumption?

God would protect her.

This isn't the bishop,
it's monsignor.

I want to help you, I do.

But it's wrong for sister
to move in here.

- Do you want it to go back

the way it was
before sister came?

You wouldn't want that.

Father, I want to do
what you want,

but I don't know
what to do for you anymore.

Well, for one thing,
stop crying.

But you lied to me.

Everything will be
all right. You'll see.

These are for you, Mrs. Shandig.
- Is there a vase?

The flowers might
look pretty in your room.

We don't have one
big enough, sister.

In the name of the father,
the son, the holy ghost.

Bless us, oh Lord,
and these thy gifts

which we are about to receive from
thy bounty, through Christ, our Lord.

Amen.

You know, I think it's the
baptists, maybe the methodists, too,

they stand up in church
and tell what sins

they've committed
before being saved.

If I ever did that, then Mrs. Shandig
would have something to think about.

Not as much as you think.

Don't be too sure.

If people knew what I believed,

what I thought when
I entered the priesthood.

I was a rebel. Yet I understand
how essential the church is

to decent life.

The church makes absolute
order from absolute chaos.

Always?
- Mm.

This past winter, this place,

the sisters so cranky,

I came very close to despair,

thinking that nothing of
what I wanted to accomplish

was possible.

Then you came.

You're very sure

in your feeling for the
people and the children.

All my enthusiasm returned.

It's meant a great deal to me.

To me, too, father.

But now people talking
about you moving in here.

It's like a cloud
settling on us.

I really wonder
if there ever will be

justice in people.

Well, we don't always see it,

I know, but god is just.

We couldn't know god
if justice weren't in people.

He thought the priest
was having carnal knowledge

of the nun.

Carnal knowledge.

I want to compliment you
on your vocabulary, Louise.

I like big words myself
like that.

Um, something
or other knowledge.

Big word.

Did you ever imagine
the priest in bed?

I don't know.
- Did you?

I guess so.

And who was in bed
with the priest

in your fantasies?

I guess sister Rita.

And, um, what did you guess
that they were doing?

I don't know about such things.

You don't?

Well, you, uh,

well, you imagined
something, didn't you?

Well, sounds,
I imagined sounds, that's all.

Sounds? Well, are the
walls thin in your house?

I object.
- I withdraw the question.

Did... did you ever imagine
anyone other than sister Rita

up there in bed with the priest?

Making sounds.
Did you?

Did you confess your
fantasies to the priest?

Did you?

He gave me cruel
and mean penances.

Cruel. - Well, he wouldn't let me
have lunch with the other students,

and he made me say endless hail
Marys and our fathers during recess.

Everyone made fun of me.

I hated him for that.

Hm, it'd be nice to get even,

wouldn't it, Louise?

Wouldn't it?

Monsignor Nicholson.

After your
extraordinary request,

a sister of mercy
living in the rectory,

I thought it best I visit.
- But to come so far, I...

Not so far at all.

The bishop is
consecrating the parish hall

over in Leelanau tonight.

I have one hour here.
- One hour.

The bishop wishes that
I speak with sister Rita.

Will you send your cook
to the convent for her?

Yes, but monsignor...

You want me
not to see sister, father?

No, no, I'll go.

Perhaps there's something I may
be reading in the meantime.

Yes, of course, my manuscript.
It's on the desk in the study.

Mm-hm. - I've completed
three chapters.

How many will there be?
- Seven, I think.

I see.

One for each of
the seven deadly sins.

Yes.
Excuse me.

Sister, I must tell you,

I still don't feel right
about your leaving the convent.

I know. - But I do like having
you at the rectory, I really do.

Thank you, Mrs. Shandig.

Sister, monsignor Nicholson
is here.

Oh, no, father!
Oh, the place must look...

I haven't dusted since
June. - Listen to me.

What, father?
- I'd rather...

I'd rather he not know
sister lives in the rectory.

Doesn't he know already?

You mean you want me
to lie? - No, no, not that.

See, he's always looking for some
mistake, some infringement that would prove

we're not conducting
the parish properly.

I'll help you, father.

Pithy, father, pithy!

Far more than
I expected. - Yes?

Sister Rita. The bishop
sends you greetings.

Thank you, monsignor.

He is concerned
with your well-being.

Well, I see Dr. McNabb
every week.

Nevertheless, the bishop wonders
if we shouldn't close the school

when the spring term ends.

No, father's worked
so hard to start it.

Only until the danger
of consumption is passed.

Oh, well, there is no danger,
I'm not exposed to them.

You're not?

Sister doesn't sleep
in the same room, monsignor.

Mrs. Shandig, monsignor.
- Yes.

Where do you sleep, sister?

Sugar, monsignor?

I see them for prayers,
but we are careful.

Good.

I go to mass in the church.
They take the sacraments.

But where do you sleep, sister?

May I ask what it is
you all are hiding from me?

I sleep in the convent,
of course.

Well, then we have no
problem, do we, sister?

I'm sure the sisters would
love to see you, monsignor.

Certainly.

Excuse me.
It is safe, isn't it?

Oh, well, maybe you'd
rather see our classroom.

That would be better.

What have I done?

Oh, god, what have I done?

Forgive me.

I'm sorry I broke your bowl.

It was my best one.

I know.

I've never seen you
in such a state.

You were right, Mrs. Shandig.

I shouldn't have
let sister move in here.

I've thought,

prayed.

I'll have to leave, won't 1?

No, monsignor thinks there's
no reason for you to leave.

But do you want me to leave?

No.

I don't want to.

The only love and affection
I knew was from the sisters.

There was nothing worldly
for me to renounce,

not a thought or action.

I've been pretending
I was a nun since I was eight.

I want you to know
that lying today,

trying to help,

it's the worst sin
I've ever committed.

There are things now
which need not be said.

Cannot be said.

I know.

There's only one thing
for us to do.

From now on, we will follow
exactly every single rule.

If you see me on the stairs,
in the hall, anywhere,

you'll ignore it.
I'll do the same.

It must be as though
you were back in the convent.

We won't talk.

If it's ever necessary
for us to talk,

I'll decide
the appropriate time, place.

It must be.

God bless you.

Two times eight, sixteen.

Two times nine, eighteen.

Two times ten, twenty.

Three times one is three.

Three times two is six.

Three times three is nine.

Three times four is twelve.

Three times five, fifteen.

Three times six, eighteen.

Three times seven, twenty- one.

Three times eight, twenty- four.

Hello, father!
- Three times nine, twenty- seven.

Tree times ten, thirty.

Four times one is four.

Four times two is eight.

Is father mad at
you, sister? - No, Louise.

Why should he be mad?
- He didn't stop to talk to sister.

So what?
- Oh.

She's a bitch.
- James!

Now we've talked
about this before.

I don't want to hear any more
language from you. I won't stand for it.

Is that clear?

She is one.

Oh, James.

I love you, sister.

Oh, hello, Judy.
Very good to see you back.

Hello, Louise.
Nice to see you.

Mrs. Delaney.
- Father, beautiful service.

Thank you so much.

Mrs. Shandig. Oh, Matt.

Well, Matt, it's good
to see you out again.

Good sermon, father.
- Thank you.

You take good care of him.
- I will, father.

Well, isn't it wonderful
how well James did his first time?

Yes, yes,
he did a very good job.

It's been a month
since monsignor visited.

Can we talk?

I think not.

Mrs. Delaney.
- Hi. - Sean. - Hi.

How are you? - Well.
- Hello, Oliver. Good voice today.

Father! - Yes? - Father,
Dr. McNabb says you should go.

Matt Webber's dying.
- I'll be right there.

Morning, father.
- Thank you for coming, father,

but papa's gonna be all right,
the doctor's with him.

Erna asked me to
stay with her last night.

I was seven when
my father was sick,

something like your father.

Did he die?

Yes.

Papa's not going to die.

I had just planted
a garden outside,

and there was a
sparrow on the windowsill.

But I'd forgotten to
put out crumbs for worry.

All of a sudden,
he flew down to the garden

and started eating
the seeds I'd just planted.

Well, that's awful.

No, he was hungry.

Now, Erna, what ever
would have made him know

that those seeds were there?

God.

Yes.

God watches over all things.

Even the sparrows.

Sis... sister...

When my father died,

father walling took me
to the good sisters

at guardian angel.

God watched over me just
like he'll watch over you, Erna.

You can cry, you can cry,
don't hold it back.

Papa won't die.

Your father led a good life.

No!

Papa can't die.
- Erna, Erna, please.

Crying will not help.
- Perhaps it can, father.

Erna, listen to me.
Your father is in god's hands.

You don't have to cry.

I can't.

I just can't stop.

It's all right, Erna,
it's all right.

Say your Rosary, say it for strength,
Erna. You won't have to cry.

Sometimes people have to
cry, father. - No, they don't.

Sit down, Erna, sit down.

Sit down.

Listen.

One winter when I was a boy,

I saw two brothers
buried from diphtheria.

After the first one, a baby,

no amount of coaxing
could get me to stop crying.

I couldn't understand how
god could allow such cruelty.

Why the baby?

I sat by the river
all that night,

and I couldn't stop crying.

And then I understood.

I understood that even the bad,
the ugly, and the cruel

was part of god's world.

And until I confronted
that, dealt with it,

I would be of no use whatsoever.

I stopped crying, Erna.
I went through the crisis nights

with a sister
and another brother,

and the doctor said I may
have saved their lives.

As soon as I stopped crying,
I became useful to god.

And I haven't cried since.

You haven't?
- No, I haven't.

I'm sorry, father.

No, Erna, people should never
apologize for their feelings.

Jesus wept. - This
isn't the time or the place

for such discussion.
Please wait in the car.

Please wait in the car.
I'll pray with Erna.

Our father, who art in
heaven, hallowed be thy name,

thy kingdom come,
thy will be done,

on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those
who trespass against us.

And lead us not into
temptation, but deliver us from evil.

You shouldn't have
contradicted me in front of Erna.

I can't believe that
you're serious about this.

I know what you believe.

Maybe you don't.

People cry, they have
all kinds of feelings.

And so do you.

You're too good a priest to
pretend that you're not human.

He came to earth as a baby,
he worked as a carpenter,

he loved the children,
and he wept.

Now you're in God's image.
You can't make god into something

other than what people are.

What do you think
these people here are?

Do you have any idea of
what I hear in the confessional?

Their homes have
photographs of babies in coffins.

Kids pour kerosene on
kittens in their father's lap

when they set the fire.
Women can't go to breakfast.

Their fingers are broken

from their husband's
nightly beatings.

Confront that, sister.

Why are you doing this?

This has nothing to do
with what's happening to us.

I know what this place is.

It is mean and it's ugly
and it's frightening.

It's all that and it's more.

But anyone can face that.

You and I, we have
to face what it can be.

Don't you think
about what it can be?

I did once.

I thought planting flowers
would make the world beautiful.

It didn't change anything.

I need to talk with you.

What we're going
through is difficult.

We're sharing the
same thing, I know that.

We must talk.

Please, we're not in the
rectory, nobody can hear us.

That doesn't matter.
Nothing matters.

You can't cut me off
like a dying limb.

That's exactly what I must do.

In nomine patris et filii
et spiritus sancti.

Bless me, father,
for I have sinned.

It has been one week
since my last confession.

May god Grant you the grace
to make a good confession.

Ever since we went
to Erna's farm,

I've been trying to understand.

Do you think you might
have been presumptuous?

Yes, I confess that,
but there must be more.

No, that is all.

Then why do you act like I've
committed... - It's not how I act.

This is the confessional.

But it is my only chance,
father.

You talk to god here.

Only god.

Father Rivard gets
so angry with me, God.

I don't know what he expects of
me. - I don't know what he... - No!

I'm not hearing it
the way I have to.

It's my confession.

I don't have the proper
attitude of distance.

You can't stop my confession.

Your sins are forgiven.

In nomine patris et filii
et spiritus sancti.

Amen.

Why do you burn your lamp
so late at night, Mrs. Shandig?

I hear you walking, sister,
so I work on some mending.

I didn't know you could hear me.

I look out my window and pray.

You must walk
when you pray, sister.

I'm sorry.

I like to look at those
few lights down in the valley.

Try to imagine
why those three or four

have such a warm glow
so late at night.

Someone's sick.
Party.

Baby being born.
Do you ever do that?

And I look at those trees.

Trees, they catch the stars,

darken the ground.

It's no land of rainbows
at night.

It can't be rainbows at night.

It's like you told me, father.
I pray against the dark.

Do you know what I mean,
Mrs. Shandig, about praying?

I don't stand when I pray,
sister.

But it's not disrespectful if
you want to pray, Mrs. Shandig.

I didn't think you were
supposed to. Are you, father?

I'm sorry. - I mean, God
gave us a brain, after all.

I think he expects us to use it.

You shouldn't talk to me
like that in front of father.

Let me talk to sister.

We'll all say Rosary
together later.

Don't you know we are
very close to serious difficulty?

No.
- We shouldn't even speak.

I'm here and you've got to let
me help you. I'm willing to help.

Whatever the trouble is,
let's talk about it.

I won't be ignored.

You don't understand
what it's like for me.

Days and nights and weeks.

I do understand.
I do.

All of a sudden, this summer,

nothing's the way
I thought it would be.

At guardian angel,
we laughed all the time

and they held you if you cried.

I don't know what's wrong with me, I
don't, but if only we could talk about it.

It would be so much
better if I could talk.

It's been so long
since we've talked.

I think you and I
have to accept god's will.

This can't be God's will.
- We can't question God.

I don't!

Sometimes I think you want
the church to be imperfect.

I do not.
- You want it to be human.

But humans are imperfect.

Haven't you learned that
you cannot bend the church

every which way
for personal reasons?

I never said that.

In Europe, the peasants show their
penitence by crawling on their hands and knees

up to the top of a
mountain to the churches.

By the time they reach the top,
their limbs are ripped,

bleeding with bits of gravel
embedded in the flesh.

They don't cry,
they don't complain.

They smile because
they know god smiles.

Please. - He is only satisfied
when the pain of our prayers

equals his pain hearing
our pitiful prayers.

Don't stand when you're praying.
If you kneel, it'll remind you

of your humility and your shame,
you stop questioning everything.

Stop it! Have you
ever been human?

God is perfectly aware
that I love and respect him,

and he knows I am a human.

And if I felt closer to him
standing on my head when I pray,

I'd stand on my head.

Christ knelt.

There was just one thing
that was human about you.

I don't believe you have the
same blood in your veins as I do.

Do you? Do you bleed when you're
cut? There's nothing human about you.

In the name of the father
and the son and the Holy ghost.

Thou lord would open my lips.

My tongue shall
announce thy praise.

Incline into my aid, o god.

O, lord, make haste to help me.

Glory be to the father and to
the son and to the Holy ghost.

Why did you stop
being a catholic?

I'm a born catholic.

Let me just ask you
one simple question.

In what church were you married?

Can we talk
about something else?

Mrs. Prindle, in which
church choir do you sing?

Methodist.
- What?

I'm a methodist.

But I still say
the Rosary, father.

Does your husband, Maurice,

know about rosaries
in his house?

Wasn't wrong to marry him.

Maurice means well.
- I know.

Why would a good catholic
girl marry outside the church?

Sister said there was no
reason... - Sister Rita? - Yes.

Told you to marry a methodist.

You don't know how it was.
- Make him stop.

How was it then, Mrs. Prindle?

When papa died, sister
Rita said it would be all right

to go to the methodist socials.

To look for a husband?

I don't know.

There weren't any unmarried
men that were catholics.

Erna.

As a former catholic,

would you expect a good nun
to encourage a mixed marriage?

Order, order, order.

Does a nun, not sister Rita,

any nun break the
church rules? Yes or no?

No. - Yet sister Rita wanted
you to marry a methodist.

I don't know.
- No.

I think you do, Mrs. Prindle.

It's strange.

Hearing a methodist
defend a nun.

Erna.

You got married right
away after your father died.

Three weeks.

That's not very long.

Il... didn't know what to do.

I was all alone
out there on the farm.

I was gonna be an old maid.

I'm not very pretty, you know.

I'm not.

I'm not. - And you're
saying sister Rita is a bad nun.

She told you to go to those socials
while your father was going to his grave.

Yes.

Yes, she told me to go.

She taught worldly songs.
- She was radical.

Father said to pray and she said
to cry. - There's more, Mrs. Prindle.

No! She said it
was more important

to be a good person
than to be a good nun.

She...

What else?

Stop it! Stop it!
Stop persecuting her!

I won't allow it. - Order!
- You know she was good.

She loved you, Erna.
- You can't try sister Rita.

She's not the guilty one, I am.

I want this in the record.

Order!

Order, order, order!

The hell was all that about?
You all but put the rope

right around your own neck,
Rivard. You gotta help me on this.

I've never argued
an actual trial before.

Hell, I've never even cross-examined
a withess. - You've done it well enough.

Yeah, yeah.
Out, Amos!

He's cooked anyhow.

I just don't want them
to know that you loved her.

I know it.
But, um...

You left here because
of your vows, your faith,

something greater in your life
than just desire for her.

I gotta hand it to you for that.

I went up to Holy Rosary
last night,

I wanted to feel
what it was like up there,

to sit in your chair
and look around,

and I found this in a cabinet.

Wasn't mailed.

But you did write it.

"Bishop, I beg you to transfer
sister Rita or me, one of us.

I made her lie to the monsignor
for my own selfish reasons.

There is something about her,
there's a way about her,

and it makes me feel afraid.

Afraid that I will love her."

God, in his infinite wisdom,

sent a pillar of fire.

There is no god.

That was lightning.

A bolt hit a tree,

a burning tree fell
on the convent,

and the convent burned,
that's all.

I could have prevented it.

Father, you're not alone now.

They've agreed
to let Mrs. Shandig

out of the hospital.

Why did I leave her?

I should have stayed.

What made me think
I could leave her?

Don't punish yourself.

What you did...

That was the only thing
that you could do.

That's more than most
men even dream of doing.

Why the hell do you think
I wanted to save you?

Amos!

Sister!
- Go get some blankets!

Father! Father,
the nuns are trapped!

Hurry up!

Jesus, he fell
through the stairs.

Amos!

Jump, sister, jump!
Jump!

I'm all right, thank you.

Cover yourself, sister.

Hey, over here, over here!

Come on, you men, let's go!

Are they all right?
- Sleeping now, sister.

That electricity always
goes when you want it.

Is the fire out yet?
- They're all gone. - Oh.

You were very brave, Amos.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, yeah, I guess I was.

Why don't you go and see
if father Rivard's all right?

Mrs. Shandig and I can
take care of things here.

The light.

Every night,
I wonder how you're feeling,

what you think,

if you're happy,

if you can sleep.

L, too, just the same.

Even when I pray,
I wonder what you're doing.

I look out through window
at you with the children,

listen for your step.

I can only bear it
if I pray about you.

Almost to you.

Every night I look
down at the town,

the lights in the windows.

Families, people together.

It was you I was
thinking of, wasn't it?

Now we can be together
just like everyone else.

Oh, no, please,
we're not so different.

We are.
- No, we're not.

We made a choice before
we ever knew of each other.

But now we have each other.

I want you to know,

a year ago I could have
turned my back on god.

And you,

you made it possible
for me to believe again

in everything
I ever wanted to do,

everything I thought
people could be.

You and I, we can't deny

the very thing that
brought us together.

Oh, we won't deny it.

I've renounced all that,
destroyed all that.

I know you.

You don't know me.
- I know what you feel.

You can't. - I do, I do.
- Look, you'd hate me.

My wanting you
makes me hate myself.

I don't hate you.

Don't talk about God.
- You still have God.

I don't have God, I don't.
I don't, I've lost him.

Can't you understand?
I've lost him.

I have lost him.

Oh, I love you.
I'm sorry.

I love you.

Please give us time.
- But can't you see, I must go.

You know that.
- I can't let you go, I won't.

But you've just got to
help us. I'll find my penance.

I'll go with you.
- No, stay.

You stay in your order.
You'll be safe there.

I haven't told you.
- I don't want to hear it.

I want you safe.
- Please let me.

Help me.

Make it possible for me
with your love.

Remember that.

Your love will
make it possible for me.

And I will always love you.

You never heard the words.

Never heard the words.

I haven't said it.

I haven't told you.

I love you.

I love you!

I love you.

Sister watched till father
was almost out of sight.

Then she screamed
after him again.

She screamed.

But he never even heard her.

When she called to him,
he did not turn back.

Oh, no, no, sir.
- He did not return that night.

No.

I thought he might,
but now he has.

Did anyone else
come up the hill?

Maurice Prindle came up in
the morning. - What did he do?

He brought some flowers.

Father wanted him
to plant some flowers.

Did Maurice see sister Rita?

No. See, when father left,

sister ran back to the garden.

And she threw herself
on the ground.

She was crying.
Sort of rolling back and forth

and she rolled herself
into the ditch

the truck had made,
and she didn't get up.

She just lay there shaking,

staring up at me
with those dead eyes.

And, uh...

Then what did you do?

Well, I prayed to St. Jude
for help and guidance

like father always said.

And my prayer was answered,

because I understood
that god made her run there

a sign to bury her
in the garden.

She was too evil
to bury in the cemetery.

That's consecrated ground.

See, father had
written to the monsignor

and told him how bad sister was.

Well, I didn't mail the letter

because I was afraid
monsignor would blame father.

I looked at her down there.

Like a snake,
she was lying there,

see, when I was a little girl,

my mother saw me playing
in the yard with a snake.

And she took a hatchet
and she chopped the snake up

and it kept wriggling
even after it was dead.

It was moving. And I heard
her down there making noises,

but I knew she was dead,

so I started shoveling
the earth over her dead body.

And when I was nearly finished,

the earth over her
body started to rise.

The earth didn't want her body,

so I hit that head of the shake
hard with the shovel, hard!

And then I scraped...
I scraped the dirt

fast over its face.

And then... then... then
Maurice came by with the flowers

from father for her grave.

But father shouldn't have
bothered because, you see,

the sheriff had already
taken the body away.

And Holy Rosary was
quiet and peaceful again.

What kind of a god are you?

I loved her.

I don't have the church anymore.

Oh, God, there's
no peace without her.

What do you want
from me? Tell me!

Peace be with you, father.

Pax vobiscum, James.

Let's go.