Going My Way Page #7

Naples, Vienna, Budapest.

Then I went to Switzerland, and I found

your letter waiting for me in Lucerne.

You should have been there, Chuck.

It was a week before Christmas

and there was a quaint little post office.

I walked up to it in the snow.

The moon was so bright

that I read your letter on the way home.

And I answered it that night.

But that letter in Lucerne

was the last one I got.

From there I went to South America.

But there were no more letters.

What happened, Chuck?

[Soft instrumental music continues]

Chuck, what...

Father Chuck.

It'll take me a little while to get used to that.

Where's your parish, Father?

I'm over here at St. Dominic's,

about 10 blocks from here.

O'MALLEY:
You remember Timmy?

Tim O'Dowd? Yes, of course, I do.

He's at St. Francis now. He's a priest, too.

Dear old Timmy. Can you imagine that?

Well, I'll have to be running along.

Please don't go.

Tommy, he can stand in the wings, can't he?

TOMMY:
It would be a privilege.

JENNY:
Please.

You know, Tommy...

Father O'Malley was the first one

to tell me I could sing.

Maybe one day I'll tell her the same thing.

If she listens to you,

maybe you could persuade her...

to listen just once to me.

Watch the baton.

Good luck, Miss Tuffle.

[Singing opera song]

[Chorus singing]

[Audience applauding]

- You wanted to see me, Father?

- Yeah.

Mrs. Quimp here, good woman that she is...

has come here

with a bit of disturbing information.

I think it should more properly

be brought to your attention.

Nice work, Mrs. Quimp. What is it?

Suppose you tell Father O'Malley

in your own words.

You'd better tell him, Father.

Your little songbird

who was without funds...

but not a bit interested

in general housework...

is feathering her nest in her own manner.

And if Mrs. Quimp's observations

are correct, a very fine manner it is.

It seems, Father O'Malley,

that the young lady in question...

has an apartment directly across the street.

Opposite Mrs. Quimp's bedroom.

According to Mrs. Quimp, young Ted Haines

comes early and stays so late that...

Mrs. Quimp is losing a lot of sleep.

It's queer, isn't it, Father?

Young Haines was ready to throw me out

without so much as a "How do you do?"

But when it comes to this young lady...

and mark you, there are other words

I could call her...

he acts quite different.

Don't you think it's strange?

That's a question.

People do funny things, you know.

Fine goings-on, Father O'Malley.

It's as plain as the nose on your face.

The nose on whose face, Father?

It doesn't matter whose face it's on.

You and I have got to face it.

Excuse us.

This is very serious business,

Father O'Malley.

As you're more familiar with the case,

I think you should handle it.

I'll handle the little sins.

[Singing] All through a lifetime

I'll be loving you and then

On the day after forever

I'll just begin

again

[Knocking on door]

Come in.

CAROL:
Hello, Father.

O'MALLEY:
Hello, Carol.

- Hi, Father.

- Hello.

- I heard you. That's more like it.

- Thank you, Father.

Maybe it's because I'm putting

more meaning into the words.

O'MALLEY:
Very nice here, isn't it?

Very nice.

- Before you go any further...

- You mean it's all in my mind?

That's right.

Yes, I'm sure Father is just dying

to hear more of the details.

- Yes.

- Won't you sit down?

I was going down the street,

minding my own business, too...

when who do you think just happened by,

purely by accident, of course...

and pulled up alongside of the curb?

- Ted Haines, Jr.

- Right.

And what do you think his approach was?

You tell him.

- I prefer not to remember.

- Well, being a woman, I do.

His exact words were,

"Hey, good-looking, what's cooking?"

Now wait a minute.

What I really said was,

"Who do you know that I know?"

You know, that's worse.

Well, that was that.

And with practically no more of a build up

than that, he asked me to lunch.

Who knows? It might have worked.

It's been known to.

So after I'd cooled him off, I came back here.

No job, no money,

expecting to be thrown out any minute.

There was a knock on the door. I said

to myself, "The landlord. Here it comes."

- And who do you think was there?

- Junior?

- Right. I was so surprised.

- So was I.

Well, up to here, we're all surprised.

Naturally, before throwing me out,

he had to know a little about me.

So in a few well-chosen sentences,

I gave him the details.

Sort of like I told you.

And you found a landlord

with a heart of gold.

Well, not exactly a heart of gold,

Father, but...

Well, we had the apartment vacant,

and it seemed a shame to throw her out.

- Anyway, what's wrong with that?

- Nothing that I know of, up to here.

As I was saying,

it was a shame to throw her out.

Like Mrs. Quimp?

Yeah. No! Well, that's different.

I can see that, obviously.

She told me about coming to see you

and that you wanted to help her.

You don't have a corner on helping people,

do you?

And besides, I've practically

got her lined up in a job.

Yes, and as soon as I get it,

I'm going to pay him back.

Every nickel of it. You too, Father.

No hurry about me.

Rather a nice-looking piano you have here.

Well, she needs one, doesn't she?

- She's got to practice. She's a singer.

- It was very thoughtful.

Of course, pianos are a little expensive

these days.

I asked her first

if she couldn't play a ukulele.

- Well, then naturally...

- Yeah, naturally.

Carol tells me you can play, Father.

How about trying it out

to see if I got a good buy?

Yes, play something for us, Father.

[Playing soft music]

Would you mind us asking you

a few questions, Father?

- No.

- Where'd you get that wicked left hand?

Well, I've always been interested in music.

Used to write a bit of it at school.

I had a little band.

We used to play for the school dances.

O'Malley's Orioles.

[Playing upbeat music]

You know, at one time

I had quite a decision to make:

Whether to write the nation's songs

or go my way.

- Any regrets, Father?

- Regrets? No.

I get a great happiness

out of helping people realise that...

religion doesn't have to be this.

[Playing sombre music]

Taking all the fun out of everything.

It can be bright.

Bring you closer to happiness.

Do you go to church, Ted?

Or would you rather I change the subject?

If I could just express musically

what I have in my mind...

it would be much more eloquent.

It would sound simpler,

and you'd remember it.

Sometimes the spoken word

can be pretty dull.

You mean, sing your sermons, Father?

Yeah, sort of.

CAROL:
Have you

had anything published?

No.

Will you play us

one of your unpublished ones?

[Singing] This road leads to Rainbowville

going my way?

Up ahead is Bluebird Hill

going my way?

Just pack a basket full of wishes

and off you start

With Sunday morning

in your heart

Round the bend you'll see a sign

"Dreamer's Highway"

Happiness is down the line

going my way?

The smiles you gather

will look well

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