The Island Page #2

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for the repose of

a fallen warrior Mikhail.

What an idea!

A requiem for the living!

How come?

She says he laid down his life

in battle in '44.

He laid down nothing.

He was captured.

After Victory

he stayed in France.

He's ailing now.

Wants to see his first,

beloved wife before he dies.

What are you doing here? Go away.

Did you hear?

No requiem for the living, he says.

Your man is alive but ailing.

You gotta go to France.

To comfort the ailing man

before he dies

and close his eyes.

Don't stare at me, do it.

What are you saying, Father?

Me? To France?

Why not? People live in France too.

lmpossible.

lt's a capitalist country.

They won't let me out.

Have no fear.

lf Father Anatoly says so,

they will.

But there's my household, my cow...

My pig needs to be slaughtered.

Sell it all, lock, stock and barrel.

- All?

- Lock, stock and barrel.

Sell it. You won't be sorry.

They'll give a lot of money

for your pig.

lt's a good pig.

lf l ate meat

l'd buy it.

l would.

You must be joking, Father.

Do you love your husband?

Then go and do

what was preordained.

Don't upset me, go!

Forgive me and have mercy!

Direct me on my way, O Lord!

For l am weak in soul.

And weak in body - yea!

And of sinful passions

Am l a vicious slave.

Can't you adjust the prop?

Your laundry's on the ground.

Not too many of you today.

What are you doing here?

Writing a petition

to our Heavenly King...

...to survive the winter.

lt's hard for brethren to cut

a grave through permafrost.

Thank God you're joking again,

l feared you'd gone mad.

Look, it's sailing.

Pray for me, Father Anatoly.

You should pray for me.

l'm three times as sinful as you.

What are you saying?

You don't like me, Father Job.

Filaret does, and you--

are trying to please him.

Why should l love you?

You never pass my cell

without a prank.

Now you soil the door handle,

now you plant some trash.

Don't l know about my sins

without your hints?

Okay...

Forget it, brother.

And forgive this sinner.

- Tired?

- No, no.

Fine.

- Let me carry you.

- No, l can manage.

- Careful.

- l can do it.

Yes, of course.

Careful.

Mind his leg!

He fell from a shed roof.

Broke his leg.

His hip is rotting now.

Four operations, but it didn't help.

We've seen all sorts of professors

and surgeons...

l'm hot, Mom.

The Father will help us.

No one is able to help

and his hip is rotting.

Sit down. You are tired.

- What's the boy's name?

- Vanechka.

This good man will help us.

Let's take the crutches away.

Get up,

l'll move the block a little.

Put him on the block.

- Don't be afraid.

- Won't it hurt him?

Hold him.

My angel...

Vanechka,

l'm going to pray to God.

You pray too,

in your own words.

Ask the Lord to heal your leg.

He's kind,

He'll help.

He will.

My dearest...

Just stand still.

ln the name of the Father,

the Son and the Holy Ghost.

Glory be to you, O Lord.

O Heavenly King, Comforter,

and Spirit of Truth,

Come and take up

Your abode in us,

and cleanse us from every stain,

and save our souls.

Ask the Lord.

Yes, ask Him, my love.

Please help me

and heal my leg.

My dear boy...

We are praying to You, our God.

Visit Your grace on

Your servant John,

forgive him all transgressions

Send down Your healing strength

On his flesh.

Put the fire out, quench all heat

And creeping illness.

Heal Thy servant John.

Please, O dear God!

Raise him from his sick bed,

Bring him to Thy Church

That he may understand Thy will

Glory be

to the Father,

and to the Son,

and to the Holy Ghost,

For ever and ever,

Glory be to Thee, O Lord.

O Lord, succor John,

heal his leg.

God Almighty, succor

the suffering and the sick.

l trust in Thee, O Lord.

Now you'll be all right, Vanechka.

Come on, have a go.

No, he can't.

Yes, he can.

- Try it.

- Careful.

Hold it, hold it.

Look, he's walking.

Good boy.

You won't need

the crutches anymore.

Forget about them.

Come over to me, angel.

My boy, my golden boy.

- We'll be going now, and thanks.

- Going?

You should stay the night

at the monastery.

Tomorrow Father Filaret

will give your boy communion

and he'll never limp again.

l can't stay.

l need to go to work.

D'ya think l'm playing games

with you?

l've got a ticket.

What's more important,

your son or your work?

But l got to go to work.

Get out of my sight.

Leave!

Wait!

Come back!

Go ashore!

What do you think you are doing?

There, my boy.

- What are you up to?

- lf you don't think about yourself,

think about your boy.

He'll be a cripple for life.

- Let him be.

- You're stupid.

Let him be.

Vanya!

Come, Vanya, have no fear.

l'll be fired.

You like your work?

l love it.

Our design bureau

is commissioning a project

and we even work overnight.

A pipe's broken there

and the staff's on three days' leave

without pay.

How can you know?

Why are you lying?

l am not lying. When you find out

it'll be too late.

Go, woman. l have no time for you.

Another row?

Look... take the boy,

settle him for the night.

Tomorrow Father Filaret

will give him communion.

Whose boy is he?

What do we do now?

- ls he your boy?

- Yes.

Where do we go now?

Come with me.

Blessed is the man

that walks not in the counsel

of the ungodly,

nor stands in the way of sinners,

nor sits in the seat

of the scornful:

but whose delight is

in the Will of the Lord;

And he shall be like a tree planted

by the fount of eternal life

that brings forth fruit

in season;

And whose leaf shall not wither;

whatsoever he does

shall prosper.

Not so are the ungodly;

They are like chaff

Blown by the wind.

Therefore

the ungodly shall not stand

in the judgment,

nor sinners in

the council of the righteous.

For the Lord knows

the way of the righteous:

but the way of the ungodly

leads nowhere.

What are you doing there?

Lying in wait for you.

Why the charred log?

lt just leaped out of my hands.

l didn't mean it.

l see.

- No, you don't.

- Come down.

No, l'm fine where l am.

l've got complaints about you.

The proud are risen against me

and violent men have sought

my soul.

What do you think l should do

about this, prankster?

Marvelous are your deeds,

O Lord!

l hear you are

cultivating superstitions

and tempting brethren

and laymen.

Safeguard me from worldly slander...

Forget prayers and

use your brains.

Being your superior

l am duty-bound to punish you.

The Lord is my light.

Whom shall l fear?

Just you wait, prankster.

You'll reap the benefits

of your doings.

ln God is my salvation

and my comfort.

Forgive me

and have mercy!

Direct me on Thy way,

O Lord!

For my soul is weak

And so is my body

And of sinful passions

Am l a vicious slave.

Father Anatoly is looking

the wrong way.

Turn him the right way.

Fire, brethren, fire!

Put it out!

You knew about the fire,

didn't you?

No one can know this but God.

You threw a charred log

at my feet. l remember.

Many mourn for the righteous,

Father Filaret.

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