Doubt Page #3

The world is crashing, Michael.

I haven't heard a wind like that

since I left Mullingar!

I've never known a wind like it.

The wind has changed.

What are you doing out here, Conroy?

I talked in class, Father.

Waiting for Sister Aloysius.

- She know you're here?

- She knows.

Good morning, Father Flynn.

Good of you to come by.

Good morning, Sister Aloysius.

How are you today?

I'm very well, thank you.

Mister Conroy.

- Yes, Sister.

- Mister Transistor Radio.

Multiplication table 10x in its totality

delivered to me tomorrow morning.

Legible, Boy!

Return to class. Go. Go, go.

I'd invite you in, but we're

just short Sister James.

- Hear that wind last night?

- I certainly did!

Did I hear Sister Veronica

had an accident?

Yes, Sister Veronica fell and

practically killed herself.

- Is she alright?

- Oh, she's fine.

- Her sight isn't good, is it?

- Her sight is fine.

Nuns fall, you know.

Nah, I didn't know that.

It's the habit.

It catches us up more often than not.

We go down like dominoes.

- Am I past the time?

- Not at all.

Good morning, Father.

Good morning, Sister.

I'm sorry I was delayed.

I ran into Sister Veronica.

- How is she?

- I'm afraid she has a bit of a bloody nose.

I'm beginning to think

you're punching people.

- Sister?

- First William London and now ...

Never mind.

Well, come in, please.

Sister...

Please. Sit. Have a seat.

I actually have a hot pot of tea.

And close this but not quite

for form's sake.

Father, would you care for a...

- Would you have a cup of tea, Father?

- I would love a cup of tea.

- Sister, perhaps you could serve him?

- I'd be glad.

And yourself, of course.

Would you like a cup of tea,

Sister Aloysius?

- No, I've already had my cup.

- Is there sugar?

Sugar?

Yes!

Yes. It's somewhere here.

I put it in the drawer for Lent last year

and never remembered to take it out.

Ah, it mustn't have been much

to give up then.

I'm sure you're right. Here it is.

I'll serve you, though for want of practice,

I'm, I'm a little clumsy.

I see your fingernails.

I wear them a little long.

- The Sugar?

- Yes.

- One?

- Three.

- Three?

- Sweet tooth.

Two...

Three...

- Sister, you care for sugar?

- Never!

Not that there's anything

wrong with sugar.

Well, thank you, Father, for making

time for us. We are at our wit's end.

Well, I think it's an excellent idea

to rethink the Christmas pageant.

'Cause last year's effort

was a little woebegone.

Oh, I loved it! But I love all pageants.

The hymns!

O Little Town of Bethlehem,

O Come O Come Emmanuel,

- O Come All Ye Faithful...

- All right. Thank you, Sister James!

So what do you think, Father?

Is there something new we could do?

Well, we all love the Christmas hymns,

but it might be jolly to include

a secular song.

Secular?

Yes. IT'S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LO LIKE CHRISTMAS. Something like that.

What would be the point of

a secular song?

Just fun.

- Or FROSTY THE SNOWMAN.

- That's a good one.

We could have one of the boys dress

as a snowman and dance around.

Which boy?

We'd do tryouts.

FROSTY THE SNOWMAN

espouses a pagan belief in magic.

The snowman comes to life when

an enchanted hat is put on his head.

If the music were more somber,

people would realize the images

are disturbing and the song heretical.

I've never thought about

Frosty The Snowman like that.

- It should be banned from the airwaves.

- So. Not FROSTY THE SNOWMAN.

Oh, IT'S BEGINNING TO LOOK LIKE A LO LIKE CHRISTMAS would be fine, I suppose.

Parents would like it.

May I ask what you're writing down?

With that ballpoint pen?

Oh. Nothing. It's an idea for a sermon.

- You had one right now?

- I get them all the time.

How fortunate.

I forget them so I have to

write them down.

Oh. What is the idea?

Intolerance.

- Would you like a little more tea, Father?

- Not yet.

It's a new time, Sister.

- What's new about this?

- Something inside of people is new.

There is nothing new under the sun.

The Church needs to change.

We should sing a song from the radio

now and then.

- Take the kids out for ice cream.

- Sweet tooth.

Maybe take the boys on a camping trip.

The point being?

We should be friendlier.

You know, the children and the parents

should see us as members of their family.

But we are not members of their family.

We're different.

- Why? Because of our vows?

- Precisely.

I don't think we're so different.

You know, Sister,

I would take some more tea.

And they think we're different, yeah?

The working class...

The working class people of this parish

trust us to be different.

Uh, I think we're getting off the subject.

Yes, you're right. You're right.

Back to it.

Yes, Sister Raymond?

Well you tell her to wash her face

and her neck and report to me at three.

Yes.

Excuse me.

The Christmas pageant.

We must be careful how

Donald Miller is used in the pageant.

Easy there, Sister.

All right, what about Donald Miller?

We must be careful, in the pageant,

that we neither hide Donald Miller

nor put him forward.

- Because of the color of his skin?

- That's right, yeah.

Why?

Oh come, Father.

I think he should be treated

like every other boy.

Well, you yourself singled the boy out

for special attention.

You held a private meeting with him

at the Rectory. A week ago?

Yes.

What are we talking about?

Donald Miller?

The boy acted strangely

when he returned to class.

He did?

When he returned from the Rectory.

A little odd, yes.

Can you tell us why?

How did he act strangely?

He... I'm not sure how to explain it.

He... he laid his head on the desk,

and... some...

- Do you mean you had some impression?

- Yes.

And he'd come from the Rectory

so you're asking me?

That's it.

Did you want to discuss the pageant,

is that why I'm here,

or is this what you wanted to discuss?

This.

Well. I'm a little uncomfortable.

- Why?

- Why do you think?

The boy's well-being is my responsibility.

His well-being is not at issue.

I'm not satisfied that that is true.

He was upset when he returned to class.

- Did he say something?

- No.

What happened in the Rectory?

Happened?

Nothing happened.

I had a talk with the boy.

- What about?

- Private matter.

He's twelve years old.

What could be private?

- Should I get the phone---?

- No.

I object to your tone.

This is not about my tone...

or your tone, Father Flynn.

- It's about arriving at the truth.

- Of what?

You know what I'm talking about.

Don't you?

You're controlling the expression

on your face right now. Aren't you?

My face?

What exactly are you accusing me of?

I am not accusing you of anything,

Father Flynn.

I am asking you to tell me

what happened in the Rectory.

I don't wish to continue this.

And if you're dissatisfied with that,

I suggest you speak to Monsignor Benedict.

I can only imagine this unfortunate

behavior is the result of overwork.

Have a good morning. Sister.

Sister.

There was alcohol on his breath.

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