Original subtitles

- [Tod Voiceover] Looking back, it's hard to remember

exactly how things were before she got here.

Buz and I had come to Butte three weeks before,

Buz to work in the copper reduction plant at Anaconda,

me to drive an ore truck in Berkeley Pit.

It's astonishing how much a part of your life

someone can become in so brief a time.

It's hardly a month ago she came to Butte.

There's a small animal, the lemming,

which every year by the thousands runs off

the shores of Portugal and swims out into

the Atlantic and drowns miles from shore.

Nobody's ever explained why,

or why the salmon fights his way upstream to die.

Maybe Arline understood this already

that morning she arrived.

But we hadn't met her then and even if we had,

she'd never have told us what she was feeling

or what all of us were about to face.

- [Male Speaker] Passengers may claim their

luggage at the baggage counter.

The limousine for downtown Butte

will be leaving in 10 minutes.

- Are you free?

- Yeah.

No luggage?

- No luggage.

235 West Copper.

(horn honks)

- [Reporter] And now five minutes of the latest news.

In New York this afternoon, the big mystery

is where is Broadway's newest star?

Arline Simms who has taken Manhattan by storm

with her role in Broadway's biggest new hit,

Thunder of Sparrows, failed to appear this

afternoon for her matinee performance.

Said to be the most unpredictable personality

on Shubert row in many a season,

Ms. Simms probably flew to New Orleans

for the Oysters Rockefeller, according to John Burton,

Pulitzer Prize winning playwright

and author of Thunder of Sparrows.

- Turn it off, please.

- OK if I tell the dispatcher, Ms. Simms?

I mean, how much excitement does he ever get sitting

there in the garage on top of that squawk box?

Besides, everybody in Butte'll know

in a couple of minutes anyway.

- Let him live.

- 6-5 to home.

(dramatic music)

(somber music)

- [Tod Voiceover] Don't let anyone kid

you about premonitions.

They don't grow on trees.

Maybe now and then we all get one,

but most of the big things that happen to us just pop up

unannounced and happen, like Arline Simms.

I didn't know until later what Buz was feeling

at that moment of seeing Arline for the first time

because I wasn't looking at Buz.

I was looking at Arline.

Call it one of those chemical things,

but whatever it was, I found myself in action.

- Say, the lady that runs the boarding house'll

probably ask 40 a month, but offer her 30.

She's got a heart of gold.

Well, look, can I get your bags out of the cab or something?

Anything?

- That's the wrong approach.

- No kidding.

- Arline, Arline.

(laughs)

10 calls I've had these last few minutes,

all telling me my famous niece just flew into town

and without so much as a telegram.

I shouldn't even be talking to you.

Six years, girl, and not a word.

- Always at Christmas.

- Money.

'Twas yourself you should've mailed home.

But why now, Arline?

Why come back now?

- Why not?

- All right, honey, I'll not push you for the reason.

In good time.

In good time.

Where's your baggage?

Look at us, the last of the Sullivans and the Simms.

Two women with not a child between them

and here we stand like strangers.

Come in, child.

Come on in.

- Hey, Tommy, isn't that, um?

- Arline Simms in person.

Two things Butte's proudest of:

our copper, Charlie Simms' daughter, Lord rest his soul.

- She sure has got a way about her,

you gotta admit that.

- What are we doing out here?

She's inside.

- Yeah, I know, but there's only one of her.

- I'll send you regular bulletins.

- Look, before I was born when I was still

swinging with the spirits, I knew that girl.

I've always known her.

I'll send you the bulletins.

- We'll flip.

- Oh, no deal.

- No deal?

- Look, why don't you just straighten your shoulder, Tod,

and turn on the charm because it's every man for himself.

See, and I'm coming on strong.

Dig? - Yeah.

- [Lydia] How does it look?

- It's smaller than I remember.

But it's solid and reassuring, like papa's table.

It's the heart of forever, isn't it?

And mama's needlepoint chair.

Papa's throne.

The afternoon he died, he sat in this chair.

Do you remember, Lydia?

And the doctor said, "Come on, Charlie,

"we're gonna take you to the hospital."

He just sat here and held onto these arms, shook his head.

He said, "Bring me my Arline."

Mama brought me to him, you remember?

I sat on his lap and I tried not to cry.

Clutched his hand.

Felt just like sea foam.

Just like sea foam, Lydia, from a wave

that had been broken and spent.

He looked at me so gravely.

He looked up at mama and he said this

one's gonna be all right, Isabel.

Don't you worry, she's gonna be all right.

She's gonna do you proud.

(somber music)

Is Father Prior still at Saint Lawrence?

- The devil himself could never route him out.

You can make your peace on that.

- Good.

- You must be tired, all the way from New York.

And hungry.

- And Mrs. Clark?

- Good heavens, Arline.

She was 92 when she passed on last September.

No complaint, I'd say.

- [Arline] Till next Tuesday, child.

Get some strength in that right hand.

(phone rings)

- Hello?

Yeah, she's here.

It's long distance.

New York, a Mr. John Burton.

- I won't talk.

- She's indisposed.

What's that?

Oh, just a minute.

He says he's going to keep calling you

every half hour until you finally talk to him.

- Close the doors, will you, Aunt Lydia?

It's private.

Hello, John.

John, listen to me, I am never coming back.

Look, I'm saying this now softly and without emotion

and we're never gonna speak to each other again.

I'm never coming back.

All right, John, you wait.

You just sit there and mix yourself

another martini and you wait.

Look, give yourself at least a week to suffer,

huh, and feel it deeply.

There's always the new play and the new leading lady.

Goodbye, John.

- Hey!

What are you doing?

Hey, wait a minute.

I paid the rent.

- Get out.

- [Buz] Get out?

What's going on?

- [Arline] Just get out.

- Hey, come on now. - Out!

- Wait a minute.

- [Tod] My, you certainly made a hit with her.

- Yeah, well, she went into my room, not yours.

Mine.

- Yeah, well, somehow from where I stand

that doesn't even seem like a minor victory.

- Oh.

Well, when Arline gets in a mood, Mr. Murdock,

you just gotta look the other way.

- I must have done something to bug her or something.

- Well, you see, that's her old room.

It has a lot of memories for her.

But, well, somehow she forgot the hard

years that she was away.

And she forgot that I had to keep this home going,

so I took in gentlemen from the mines.

Nice gentlemen, such as you.

But that's Arline.

When she gets a notion, that's that.

Something made her come back here.

What it is I don't know yet.

But the Lord works in mysterious ways.

He must've had some reason for making her return.

Oh, I've got another nice room for you down there.

You know, you're awful nice about this.

- Well, it's a good world. (laughs)

- Times are I don't think I really understand your friend.

- Mrs. Sullivan, stop trying.

(lighthearted music)

- [Arline] Aunt Lydia, please.

Yes, I am all right and no I don't want any dinner.

I'll see you in the morning.

- It'll be too late.

Look, I may not look it, but I'm the pajama type.

I don't know why.

Maybe it's just a habit, but I dig pajamas,

like the bottoms.

When you threw my stuff out of here,

you overlooked a few items, like the pajama bottoms

and the toothbrush, toothpaste.

- All right.

- I made out a list.

- [Arline] Just get them and leave me alone.

- Well, the list is a little long.

It may take a little while.

I couldn't have left them anywhere, you know.

Not there either.

- Maybe you're wearing them.

- Oh no, I checked.

Your aunt has cooked you a special dinner.

Why don't I go down and get you a plate and bring it up?

It's a stew.

It's got everything in it.

- Maybe that's where your pajamas are.

(lighthearted music)

- Look, I want you to know that no matter

what this looks like, it's not a pickup.

The good people either dig each

other right now or forget it.

Two half truths never made an integrated single,

but two truths together, man, that's a crazy square root.

Now, you take me for instance.

I never batted 300.

Probably never will.

Never climbed Mount Everest and I don't have perfect pitch.

But I can tell you about Arline Simms.

Somebody or something has dropped a glass wall around her

and now she looks at people from the bottom of a fish bowl.

So she's come running back to lean on the past.

To reach out for things that are gone.

Look, if you want to bust out of that fish bowl,

if you want to be free, all you've gotta do is think free.

All you gotta do is say, I'm free.

I'm me.

- Move over.

- Be my guest.

- When I play games, I play my rules.

- You've got the wrong boy.

In the man-woman battle, it's the man's rules.

- Win the battle, lose the war.

- Hey.

Nobody ever really wins a war.

(somber music)

You planning to hit every joint in Butte tonight?

(lively jazz music)

- [Arline] Whatever comes straight, make it a double.

- Why fight it?

Your change, ma'am.

- Quitting so soon?

- Do you know where Columbia Gardens is?

- If I didn't, I'd say I did.

- I'll show you.

(somber music)

Over there in the shell of the balcony

the firehouse band used to play every Sunday.

Sundays were always the best days.

Sometimes wonder why we can't live all

the rest of the week like we do on Sunday.

I've got to remember all of it.

Why can't I remember?

Why've I forgotten so many thousands of things?

All the good things, like what mama

used to cook for breakfast,

the colors of papa's ties,

and the words,

all the words he said.

What did he say?

I can't remember.

All I can remember is those last

few words just before he died.

You're right.

I'm leaning on the past just as you said.

But I can't help myself.

I'm afraid.

I want to run to my father.

And not like we write in books and plays.

Not sick, but I want them back.

I want my mother and my father back, Buz.

I need them.

I need them so.

- Well, what can I do?

Just tell me, what can I do?

- Hold me.

Please, hold me.

(somber music)

- What are you sitting for?

You want to be late for work?

- [Tod] The keys.

- Oh.

- Tonight is my turn.

- She won't be free.

- Wow, what do you know.

A smiler with an ax.

- Relax, she's not seeing me.

She's got a date with a priest.

Father Prior of the neighborhood church.

- Well, maybe she'd like to do the town later.

I'll ask her when I finish the afternoon shift.

- She's not exactly in a dating mood, Tod.

That's not why she came back to Butte.

- Is that one of the bulletins you promised me?

- It's like the insulation's broke.

Like she shorted out somewhere.

She's driving without lights in a panic.

(somber music)

- [Father Prior] Arline, my dear.

- Oh, Father, I'm so glad to see you again.

- I've been waiting.

That's all I've heard in the parish since yesterday.

Arline's home.

Welcome home, Arline.

- Father, please help me.

I haven't the strength to fight anymore

and nowhere else to turn.

I thought maybe the house where I was born,

maybe there I'd find something to hold onto.

It's just as empty as New York.

I'm falling.

I keep reaching out for something to stop me.

I've come home, Father.

I've come home to die.

(dramatic music)

(somber music)

- Go to the rectory.

Mrs. Harriet will make you some tea.

Come home to die indeed.

Now what kind of a grim joke is that?

Anyway, come along now.

- Father, I can't talk about it calmly and logically yet.

I'd prefer not to go to the rectory

and discuss it over tea if you don't mind.

I feel better here.

- All right, my dear, we'll stay here.

Now tell me what it is.

- It's called lupus erythematosus disseminatus.

Sounds like a Latin name they use

for some pretty flower, doesn't it?

I look at myself in the mirror and I'm not Arline anymore.

I'm a host for lupus.

An expert suddenly able to enunciate all

the tongue twisting impersonal medical terms

that isolate me from my stranger's body.

Lupus, Father, is a degenerative

process involving the blood vessels.

Acute lupus inevitably terminates in death,

usually from toxemia, usually within a few weeks.

- I see.

How long have you known?

- Through all kinds of pain, special treatments,

antibiotics, steroids, transfusions, cortisone.

Through all kinds of delaying actions.

- How can you be sure there's no--

- The top doctors in New York say the end of July.

I got sick of New York in July.

Dying on the installment plan.

So here I am.

- You've told no one.

- Father, in my world death is for bit players

or something that happens off stage.

But it doesn't happen to the star, except in tragedies.

They're not producing tragedies this season on Broadway.

Will I get more and more afraid?

Can I find something to hold onto?

- Death may deprive us of the wonder of this existence,

my child, but it can never erase

the triumph of our having existed

whether for one year or for one hour.

God will not fail you, child.

I promise you in his His name.

(somber music)

- What cripples we are, Father.

How easily crushed.

How nothing.

Look at them up there.

Their cold light.

It's all around us, Father.

Everywhere we look, indifference.

A whole universe of indifference.

- You say the universe is indifferent.

Yes, yes, it is.

But there's a higher order, my dear.

The love in each of us which makes us care.

I'm not indifferent, Arline.

If I could die for you, I would gladly

as I would for any who need relief.

Remember, my child, I'm here waiting.

Whatever time you come,

whenever you call.

(somber music)

- Arline!

More than anything I'd like to kiss you.

But I can't.

When you went into the church, I followed you

to tell you I'd be waiting outside

in case you felt like doing the town.

I heard it all.

If I could've pushed a button

and disintegrated myself, I would've pushed.

But I was trapped.

There was no way I could leave

without you knowing I was there.

- So you know.

- When you were running away from the church

I could feel your panic like it was my own,

so I called out to you.

You threw yourself into my arms.

Do you know why?

To feel flesh and blood.

Another human being.

Not me.

Life.

If I hadn't known that, I'd have grabbed back.

But I knew it, so I couldn't.

You don't even know my name, do you?

It's Tod.

Tod Stiles.

- They say any old straw when you're drowning.

You're not just any old straw, Tod Stiles.

I'd like you to know that for whatever it's worth.

Thank you for being so logical.

Good night.

- Arline.

Now that the words are out of the way,

how about trying again without being so logical?

- Wouldn't work this time.

We're no longer strangers.

- I'll drive you home.

- No, I'm not going home.

Not yet.

Night, Tod.

(somber music)

(somber music)

- You can't win them all.

- Never knew you to quit so soon.

- Well, I tried and it's just never

gonna work for Arline and me.

She's a great kid, Buz.

(Buz laughs)

Of course, everybody knows that I'm a great kid, too,

but it just happens to be a case where two

great kids weren't destined for each other.

So I pass, OK?

I turn the keys over to you and I give you my blessing.

- [Buz] All right.

- Buz.

- Yeah?

- Some advice, huh?

Keep it light, just for laughs.

- Keep you posted, dad.

(somber music)

- Arline.

Well, Tod reported a strike out,

so I figured it was time for the second inning.

- Thanks, Buz, but no.

- Look, whatever's bugging you, we're gonna exercise it.

- Exorcise.

- That's it, you take care of the grammar

and I'll take care of the happy talk, OK?

Come on.

Don't think about it.

Make the commitment.

Do it.

Yeah, (mumbles), right?

We go.

Now every day in the marketplace sits a kebab vendor

who turns spits of meat over black (mumbles) charcoal.

And every day this poor man come by with a piece of bread.

He would take this piece of bread and hold it over

the roasting meat to get some meat flavor.

Then he'd walk away without saying a word.

Well, after a year of this, the vendor said,

"Look here, you beggar, I expect payment."

The beggar refused, so the vendor

dragged him off by the ear to court.

Said to the judge, "For one year, this beggar

"has been passing my stand and soaking his bread

"in my kebab smoke and I want you to make him pay for it."

"Oh," said the judge.

"What do you think he owes you?"

One anna per day.

365 annas for a year.

The beggar shrugged because he had no money.

"Well," said the judge, "I'll pay you

"out of my own pocket personally,"

and he took the exact amount out of the pocket

and held it in front of the vendor.

Just as the vendor was about to take the money,

the judge pulled it back, said, "Oh no.

"The man didn't steal your meat, only the flavor,

"and I'll pay you the same way.

"Here, smell the money."

(laughs)

I was just trying to steal the flavor.

- Night.

- What's the matter, Paul, the British coming?

- Do you realize we sleep away one third of our lives?

- I did until I met you.

Let me guess.

You found Arline.

- Yeah, she's really a great girl.

- Yeah.

Well, give me the whole report.

- No report.

Didn't even kiss her.

- You mean you woke me up to tell

me you didn't even kiss her?

- But I've got a whole program in orbit.

Irresistible.

So go back to sleep and save your strength

while the rest of us are spending ours.

I'll turn the light out.

(lighthearted music)

- [Tod Voiceover] All through the days and nights

that followed for more than three weeks,

Buz knocked himself out to be with Arline.

Even insisted she pick him up at the end of each shift.

It was though some special force was

driving him to make Arline love him.

"She's crazy about Sundays," he'd tell me,

"because Sundays were the good days when she was a kid.

"So I'll give her a month of Sundays,

"a lifetime of Sundays if it'll make her happy."

(lighthearted music)

(engine roaring)

- I thought we settled all that.

Nothing serious, just for (laughs).

- It's time we reopened the discussion.

- Not now, Buz.

Maybe sometime soon.

(engine roaring)

- Pick a hand.

What do you think?

- Once more from the top, huh?

- Comes out the same way.

I'm gonna marry that girl.

- She said yes?

- Don't worry, she will.

I'm taking her to the dance at

the Columbia Gardens tonight and

it's where I make the scene.

(light knocking)

- Yes?

- [Tod] It's Tod, may I come in?

- Yes, come in, the door is open.

- You're going to Columbia Gardens

tonight with Buz, aren't you?

- Yes, why?

- He bought a ring.

He's gonna ask you to marry him.

- No.

- [Tod] And you're going to accept.

- I can't, you know I can't, Tod.

- But he doesn't know you can't

and that's why you're going to.

- How could I love if I can't offer a lasting relationship?

I don't even know if I'm gonna see the rain again.

I don't know if I'm gonna see tomorrow's sun.

How can I hurt Buz by loving him and letting

him love me when it can't go anywhere?

- But it can go somewhere.

- What, a day, two days, maybe a week?

- A minute if that's all there is.

But a minute that counts.

- I can't.

I know Buz loves me.

I can't make it worse.

- Arline, you're doing what everybody else does.

Wasting precious days, just passing the time,

going through the motions, waiting.

That's not really living.

Before my father died, he taught me something.

He knew he was dying and he lived his last days

more fully than he lived all the rest of his life.

He said don't left yourself be hobbled

by fatalism and don't run from death.

Recognize it, accept it for what it is.

Just as much a miracle as being born.

Maybe more so.

Only when we lose our fear of death can we defeat it.

Then we can make every hour of our existence really count.

Arline, Buz is a guy who's with things.

He feels every minute of every experience in every pore.

And if he did know, this is the way he'd want it to be.

So take this from him and share it with him and use it.

(dramatic music)

(peaceful jazz music)

(lighthearted jazz music)

- [Tod Voiceover] Buz didn't tell me and I'll never

ask what it must've been like with Arline in those

first few minutes until the ambulance arrived.

But as soon as he'd called for an ambulance, he called me.

I borrowed a car, only making one stop on the way,

and got to him as fast as I could.

I stopped for Father Prior.

- Are you sorry for your sins, my dear?

(speaking in foreign language).

Amen.

- Father.

I'm not afraid.

- (speaking in foreign language).

Amen.

- I was alive.

I really was alive.

(somber music)

(Buz crying)

(screams)

(moves into dramatic music)

(lively jazz music)

- [Male Voiceover] This has been a Screen Gems film

presentation from Columbia Pictures.

Herbert B. Leonard, Executive Producer.