Amy & Isabelle Page #2

Her mother thought her skirt was too

pink, too short. She did not approve.

Can we discuss our flowers

for next-month altar decoration?

I must say I thought

Isabelle's idea for last month...

using the holly leaves and berries,

was a very interesting one...

I'm not sure though. Anne?

You're thinking we might

go back to cut flowers.

I think that 's a good idea.

- A bit more traditional maybe.

- A bit more traditional, yes.

- Hi.

- Amy Goodrow.

Only God could love you for yourself

alone and not your yellow hair.

A woman is a lovely thing to be. You

should learn to take a compliment.

Thank you.

Yes, that's very kind.

Thank you. That's very

kind what you just said.

Amy.

- Who are you talking to?

- No one.

Three more weeks,

Dottie can have sex.

She wishes it was 3 more months,

but Wally is jumping at the bed.

Tell him to take

care of it himself.

You get dry after

a hysterectomy, you know.

- I didn't.

- You didn't have your ovaries out.

They yanked the whole

business with Dot.

Honey, I was just curious.

What was it,

made you decide to cut your hair?

It's cute. It's as cute as it can be.

I'm just curious, that's all.

I'm mean, with a head

of hair like yours...

It's bewildering how you can harm

a child wlthout ever knowing.

Thinking all the while,

you're being careful, conscientious.

Why would Debbie Kay answer the

door if her mother told her not to?

Well, this is the thing. I told

you never to answer the door.

But say you're home alone

and Avery Clark stops by or...

someone alike him...

and says I've been in an accident.

You'd go with him, wouldn't you?

- I suppose.

- Amy!

Hi.

Paul's gonna leave unless I run

out and give him the stupid fries.

Stacy, this is my mother.

- Hi.

- Hi, Stacy.

I gotta baby-sit my brothers tonight.

They're cockroaches, both of them.

Why don't you come over

and help me torture them?

- I can't.

- That 's okay. Call me later.

- Bye.

- Bye.

Surely there must be other girls

that you can be friends with.

Everybody is just so weird.

To make friends you've gotta be

friendly, my father used to say.

God...

- Hello.

- Hello, Barbara, how are you?

I'm just fine, thanks.

I'm sorry. Your name is?

Amy.

And you're in school

with my son, Flip?

He's in my math class.

And what you two ladies have

planned for this evening?

Odds and ends, you know.

- Well, have a pleasant evening.

- Thank you.

She's pretty.

If one cares for a false made-up

look, one may find her pretty.

I just mean she could be pretty

if she didn't wear all that make-up.

She's probably having

a dinner party tonight.

No doubt,

Anne and Avery will be there.

They'll laugh about how Isabelle

decorated the church in hollies.

Mom? You're pretty too.

It was at 5 o'clock

that her mother...

I couldn't stop imagining a dinner

party at Barbara Rawley's house.

Wine goblets shimmering

in candle light.

At least we're together and safe.

In the heart, I thought my name

might be coming up.

"I saw Isabelle Goodrow today.

She's so odd, I think."

...by acknowledging the child

belongs to God, not to us.

So many private humiliations...

including how often Avery Clark

was on my mind.

Where's Avery?

I don't know.

He probably stayed too late at

Barbara Rawler's dinner party.

Couldn't bother to get

out of bed this morning.

I hate my life.

I hate everything.

Why? Why do you hate your life?

You wear make-up, you're pretty.

Your boyfriend has an apartment.

Don't make me barf.

I already did that this morning.

You puked?

I wanted to stay home,

but my mother sent me anyway.

- You're kidding.

- No, she's a lunatic.

Well...

at least your mother doesn't cut

your sandwich in stupid triangles.

Everyone ends up like their mother,

then what's the rat's-ass point?

I can't believe, I'm smoking

when I feel so crappy, this is sick.

God, if anyone ever caught us

smoking, my mother would kill me.

I'll put your hood up.

Jeez, where did you

get all this hair?

- My dad, I guess.

- You guess?

Remember, it's a

See if you can figure it out.

When you finish it,

set your pencils down.

Yeats.

He wrote some very

lovely things, I believe.

God, a fine hose

ruining around like that.

It's Yeats, Mom.

Not "Eats", "Yeats".

You probably just got

it confused with Keats...

which is spelled almost the same.

But Keats was English,

and Yeats was Irish.

And Keats died

really young of TB.

Interesting.

I would like to hear more about it.

My daughter was ashamed of me.

I was someone to be careful with.

Small-town dummy

who worked in a mill.

Three mere lines. Can't you

people see the beauty of this?

If you had any sensitivity at all,

you would look at this and weep.

Julie.

Well, B-C is five times

the square root of 3.

Mary Ann, if I ask you to be quiet,

you'll be kept after school.

Now, getting back

to what A-B is...

Didn't you think that homework

last night was a bunch of crap?

- I thought...

- Girls, please, be quiet!

All right.

At least, it's not home class

with that knock-me peanut.

Amy, one more time and you'll

stay after school. Go ahead, Julie.

Well, 10 square is 100.

Minus 75 is 25...

...so A-B is 5.

- Excellent.

Good for you, Julie.

Does everybody get that?

I guess the rest of

us are just stupid.

All right, Amy. After school.

Where were we?

A-D was the square root of 3...

Get started on your homework,

if you want to.

I don't want to.

Amy...

Amy, it's okay.

I know this poem by

Edna St. Vincent Millay.

And I thought of it today in class.

The first line is:

"Euclid alone looked

on beauty bare"

I think that's it.

"Let all who prate of

beauty hold their peace"

You know that poem?

I can't believe you know it.

Do you know any others by Millay?

I think that I've

memorized all of them.

"Time does not bring relief

You all have lied"

"Who told me time would

ease me of my pain?"

The thought had come to me that

morning:
I could educate myself.

I knew how to read.

And Amy would appreciate this.

The two of us in a coffee shop

talking about books.

I should be at the optometrist

for my ironing glasses.

What do you mean,

ironing glasses?

And the women at church

would finally understand...

...I was someone worth knowing.

...it's spasmodic accommodation.

What?

- I don't get it.

- There's no change in this machine.

- Anyone have change for a quarter?

- Just kick it.

- I kicked it.

- I don't get it.

I don't understand why your eyes

do that over an ironing board.

- And you don't do that at work.

- I probably do.

Come on in.

I marked a page for you.

"To a young girl."

- Can I keep lt?

- Of course, lt's for you.

I can't believe lt. I love Yeats.

What are you thinking?

I'm glad I met you.

I'm glad I met you too.

Can I give you a ride home today?

Do you think anybody would mind?

Your mother would mind...

if your math teacher

gave you a ride home?

Of course not.

There's a dirt-road

coming up on the left.

I grew up in a white house

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes