Pact of Silence

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THE PACT OF SILENCE

Screel deen!

Screel deen!

Help!

Open the door!

Open up!

Shut up in there!

Shut up!

Scan?

Normal.

Symptoms?

Fever and acute abdominal pain.

Appendix?

Already removed.

I can't find a thing.

-How reassuring!

-Not for me.

Her pulse is elevated.

She has violent abdominal pain.

I'm keeping her in for observation.

But you said she's fine.

So it seems.

I'm taking her out.

I can't allow it.

I'll bring her back tomorrow.

Do you have her file?

When can she travel?

She has to leave?

We're closing the mission temporarily.

Didn't you know? Aren't you leaving, too?

Yes, home to Paris.

-What about her file?

-I've forgotten it.

No, let me handle this.

Quiet now.

See you tomorrow.

I almost forgot.

No drugs.

Only herbs.

It's against our rules.

Mother Emmanuelle.

What does ''screel deen'' mean?

Sister Sarah often cries out...

something like ''screel deen''

or ''creel deen.''

Do you understand that?

No. I have no idea.

Something wrong?

No, I'm okay.

I'm okay.

Here.

A cheeseburger.

Bet you haven't eaten junk like that in ages.

Why the transfer?

What'd she do?

Don't ask.

It'd spoil your appetite.

Lowlife!

Scum!

How are your hands?

Lucky you're never the aggressor.

It'd endanger your parole.

So you're studying math.

How far are you?

I'm due to take my master's.

Fractals. Aren't they a bit boring?

It passes the time.

You wouldn't rather be

separated from the others?

I've had enough of solitary.

That's not too smart.

We'll try to keep your secret,

but they'll find out.

The guards won't always be around.

Snore and you're out.

You're not eating?

Are you French?

How's the pain?

I can't feel a thing.

Must be your drugs.

That decoction of herbs. Who prescribed it?

Mother Emmanuelle.

She prescribes potions?

Not her.

A so-called saint from Bechoa.

Santa Omeira, the healer.

An adherent of shamanism.

Mother Emmanuelle says

she's a better Catholic than any of us.

It belongs to a girl next door.

When can I get out?

That's up to you.

I haven't decided a thing in 10 years.

The nurse says you're a Cecilian.

Priest and doctor?

That nurse sure says a lot.

It protects me.

From what?

-You don't believe in it?

-I believe in miracles of faith...

the power of the soul over the body.

And I believe it's not your body

that's suffering right now.

You can talk to me.

To the priest or the doctor?

How old are you?

Nearly 25.

Have you been a Carmelite long?

Ten years.

Ten years.

Isn't that a bit young to follow a calling?

I haven't lost my faith, you know.

I'm not pretending to be sick.

Were you near Yorin during the rioting?

I wasn't one of the nuns who got raped.

You're on the wrong track.

If I'm on the wrong track...

then there's a right one.

No! It's been 10 years.

The mirror.

We're not allowed.

Will you be okay?

-Please leave me alone.

-Are you going back to France?

Do you have family there?

I don't see them anymore.

Listen.

That's how he got me.

-Come on.

-No.

-Come on.

-No.

He knocked me up.

Christ, that bastard knew

what he was doing.

You got a guy?

You prefer muff-diving?

Not that I know of.

I hate lesbos.

All I like is cock.

Nothing like a nice, big cock...

don't you think?

What's wrong?

Nothing.

I don't know.

I get this pain here.

The infirmary's there to be used, you know.

How long have you been inside?

Two years?

Five?

More?

Ten?

I get it.

You can't have had much time

to sit on a lot of c*cks.

Ten years!

That's rough.

What'd you do?

It's been too long. I've forgotten.

Hey, no sweat.

You'll tell me in your own good time.

Where's Sister Sarah?

-She was taken away.

-She's not here.

She's left.

They've all left.

Your Grace....

You know I did not search

for God in the scriptures...

like St. Augustine.

Nor did I find him on the road

to Damascus, like St. Paul.

One day I shouted his name...

like any sinner

overwhelmed by pain and wrongdoing.

He asked me to fight for him...

and to love others as I do myself.

Ever since, on every continent...

in all latitudes, I have fought.

I have fought and fought.

But now...

I no longer know for whom I am fighting.

I no longer know how to love.

You must help me, your Grace.

Help me.

Don't thank me.

I'm not the only one in high places

to have noticed you.

You deserve to go to Rome.

It seems too....

What? Too comfortable?

Would you prefer Pakistan?

It won't do you any harm to slow down.

You're too hard on yourself.

You and I know why.

I need to stay for a few days.

In Paris?

No, there's nothing for you here.

One of my patients is worrying me.

One of your patients?

A Carmelite.

She was brought back in serious condition.

Where is she now?

St. Pierre Clavet.

I'd like to treat her.

Forget it.

They won't let you anywhere near her.

They refuse all medicine.

With your authorization, I....

Out of the question.

I can't force fundamentalist Carmelites

to accept your presence.

I received your letter.

I'm losing my sense of purpose.

But you spend your time

supporting other people...

helping them, healing them.

There comes a time...

when you have to forgive yourself, Joachim.

god has turned you into a new man.

Someone you can love.

Are you sure you spoke

to Mother Emmanuelle?

She's sick enough as it is.

How long has she been like this?

Since she came back.

get me some water.

An IV every three hours.

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