Agnes of God

RHT

Agnes!

I'm just gonna put something here to stop the bleeding.

Excuse me, Sister. She'll be fine.

Here they are now.

One question: Are you guilty?

Are you guilty?

- Martha, it's you. - What about Roger? He's free.

They want a woman.

All you have to do is meet with her and tell the court she's insane.

Are you dictating my position? This is sticky territory.

Nobody wants this case to go to trial.

Not the Church, the Crown, least of all me.

- Eve, she strangled a baby. - Nobody wants to send a nun to prison.

We're not telling you what to decide, or even to take it.

Is there any reason why you feel you shouldn't take it?

Today's my birthday.

I always make bad decisions on my birthday.

Happy birthday.

Hi, kitty.

It's Helen. Mrs. Davenport confirmed her appointment at 9:00 tomorrow.

Okay? Bye-bye.

Wait a minute.

- Yeah. - It's Roger. Call me at the hospital.

I'd like your opinion on a case. And happy birthday.

Helen again. I cancelled your Wednesday appointment...

... so you can visit your mother. Bye-bye.

Hello, Martha. Guess who?

Bonjour. I'm Dr. Martha Livingston.

Hello. I'm...

...Dr. Martha Livingston. I...

Excuse me.

I'm a...

...court-appointed psychiatrist.

Thank you.

I believe your Mother Superior's expecting me?

Dr. Livingston, I presume?

I'm Mother Miriam Ruth. You needn't call me "Mother."

Most find it uncomfortable.

I'm afraid it brings up unpleasant connotations.

- So you can call me "Sister." - Thank you.

You must have tons of questions.

You may smoke. Just don't tell any of the sisters.

They wouldn't understand. Especially Marguerite.

She'd scare the pants off Queen Elizabeth.

Besides, I miss them.

- You smoked? - Two packs a day.

I can beat that.

Unfiltered.

Well, you have questions.

Fire away.

- Who knew about Agnes' pregnancy? - No one.

- She hid it? - She undressed and bathed alone.

- Is that normal? - Yes.

- And during the day? - She could've hidden a machine gun.

Did she have any physical exams?

Once a year. Her pregnancy fell between the visits.

- Who is the father? - I haven't a clue.

- What men had access to her? - None, as far as I know.

- A priest? - Yes, but...

- His name? - Father Martineau.

- I don't see him as a candidate. - Was there anyone else?

Obviously, there was.

- You didn't find out who? - I've done everything but ask Agnes.

- Why haven't you? - She can't even remember the birth.

- Somebody gave her the baby. - Yes, 10 months ago.

I fail to see how that somebody has anything to do with this trial.

Why do you think that?

Don't ask me questions. I'm not the patient.

Well, I'm the doctor.

I'm the one who will decide what is or is not important.

I don't know how to tell you this, but I don't approve of you.

- Not personally... - Psychiatry.

Exactly. I want you to deal with her speedily and easily.

She won't hold under cross-examination.

- I'm not the Inquisition. - I'm not from the Middle Ages.

I know what you are. I don't want that mind cut open.

Hello.

I'm Dr. Livingston. I've been asked to talk to you. May I?

Yes.

You have a lovely voice.

No, I don't.

I just heard you.

That wasn't me.

Was it Sister Marguerite?

You're very pretty, Agnes.

No, I'm not.

Hasn't anyone ever told you that before?

Let's talk about something else.

- What should we talk about? - I don't know.

- Anything. May I sit down? - Yes.

The first thing that comes to your mind.

God. But there's nothing to say about God.

- Second thing that comes to mind? - Love.

- Have you ever loved anyone? - Yes.

- Who? - Everyone.

- Who in particular? - Right now?

I love you.

Have you ever loved another man? Other than Jesus Christ?

- Yes. - Who?

There are so many.

- Well, do you love Father Martineau? - Oh, yes.

- You think he loves you? - I know he does.

- He's told you? - No, but...

...when I look into his eyes, I can see.

- You've been alone together? - Yes.

- Often? - At least once a week.

- And you like that? - Oh, yes.

- Where do you meet? - In the confessional.

- Do you ever see him outside...? - You want to talk about the baby?

- Would you like to? - I never saw a baby. They made it up.

- Why should they? - I don't know.

- Do you remember the night? - No, I was sick.

- How? - Something I ate.

- Did it hurt? - Yes.

Where?

Down there.

- What did you do? - I went to my room.

- What happened there? - I got sicker.

- And then what? - I fell asleep.

- In the middle of all the pain? - Yes.

- Where did the baby come from? - What baby?

- The one they made up. - Their heads.

- That's where they say? - No, the wastebasket.

- Where was it from before? - From God.

- After God, before the wastebasket. - I don't understand.

- How are babies born? - Don't you know?

Yes, I do, but I want you to...

I don't understand! You want to talk about the baby, everybody does.

But...

...I never saw the baby, so I can't talk about it...

...because I don't believe in it.

- Let's talk about something else. - I'm tired of talking.

Nobody believes me when I tell them. Nobody listens to me.

I don't want to answer questions.

Would you like to ask them?

- What do you mean? - You ask and I'll answer.

Anything?

Anything.

What's your real name?

- Martha Louise Livingston. - Married?

- No. - Would you like to be?

- Not at the moment. - Do you have children?

- Would you like some? - I can't have them.

Why not?

I've stopped menstruating.

Why do you smoke?

- Does it bother you? - No questions.

Smoking is an obsession with me.

Maybe I'll become obsessed with something else and I'll stop smoking.

- Do you have any more questions? - One.

- What? - Where do you think babies come from?

From their mothers and fathers, of course.

Before that, I don't know.

I think they come when an angel...

...lights on their mother's chest and whispers to her.

That makes a good baby start to grow.

Bad babies come when a fallen angel squeezes in down there...

...and they grow, and grow...

...until they come out down there.

I don't know where good babies come out.

And you can't tell the difference.

Except bad babies cry a lot.

And they make their fathers go away.

And their mothers get very ill. Die sometimes.

Mommy wasn't very happy when she died.

I think she went to hell, because every time I see her...

...she looks like she stepped out of a hot shower.

And I'm never sure if it's her...

...or the lady who tells me things.

They fight over me all the time.

The lady...

...I saw when I was 10.

I was lying on the grass, looking at the sun.

The sun became a cloud...

...and the cloud became...

...the lady.

And she told me she would talk to me.

Then her feet began to bleed.

And I saw there were holes in her hand and in her side.

And I tried to catch the blood as it fell from the sky...

...but I couldn't see because my eyes hurt...

...because there were black spots in front of them.

And she tells me things. Like...

...right now she's crying, "Marie! Marie!"

But I don't know what that means. She uses me to sing.

It's as if she's throwing a hook...

...and it catches under my ribs and tries to pull me up.

But I can't move. Mommy's holding my feet.

All I can do is sing in her voice!

It's the lady's voice!

God loves you! God loves you!

God loves you.

- Do you know a Marie? - No.

Do you?

Why should I?

I don't know.

Well, what do you think?

Totally bananas or slightly off-center?

Or maybe perfectly sane and just a very good liar.