Fading back to the funeral, the clergyman is saying, "First reading will be from Mr. Charles Young," and for a moment I don't even realize he means Charlie, because he's so rarely called "Charles." It's from the third chapter of the Book of Wisdom. Charlie slowly makes his way to the pulpit...
...as we fade back to young Jed and Dolores, on a different day. She comes up to him between classes and says she wants a chance to make her case. She's so Donna in this scene. He says she's been raising the issue for a week now. She replies, "I can tell it's had quite an effect on you." He asks, "Don't you have a husband?" She wants to know what that has to do with anything. Jed: "I'm saying, shouldn't you maybe go home when you're done with work?" She asks, "Shouldn't you be minding your own business?" He says, "I just thought, since you're minding everybody else's..." Dolores: "What is that supposed to mean?" Jed: "In my family, we don't talk about money." Dolores: "That's because you have money." Burn! He says, "Numbers, Mrs. Landingham. If you want to convince me of something, show me numbers!" They're in a walkway with a Gothic-style arch. The religious school setting and architecture make for a smoother shift between the flashbacks and the funeral. Jed walks away and Dolores exits to our left.
The camera drifts across a thick, grey stone wall and comes to rest on Charlie, standing at the pulpit, reading, "But the souls of the virtuous are the hands of God. No torment shall ever touch them." The camera lingers again on Jed's sorrowful face. "In the eyes of the unwise, they did appear to die, but they are at peace. For though in the sight of others they were punished, their hope is full of immortality." The shot changes abruptly to one from high up, looking down on Charlie and the congregation, and fades out to commercial so quickly I'm left wondering about that particular directorial decision. It was rather jarring and out of keeping with the rest of the show.
We come up on a shot of an old car I should probably recognize the make and model of, but don't, and a 1960 New Hampshire license plate. So now we know it's at least 1960. Mrs. Landingham wanders up to another big boat of a vehicle, which Jed is trying unsuccessfully to start, and helpfully says, "Your car won't start!" Yup. Leaning in the window, she asks, "What's wrong with it?" Jed replies, "It's possibly the starter motor or the fan belt." Mrs. Landingham: "Do you know anything about cars?" He admits he doesn't. Mrs. Landingham: "Then how do you know...?" Jed: "'Cause those are the two things I've heard of." Frustrated, he gets out of the car to look at the motor. It's some sort of universal male gesture, I guess; even a man who has just admitted that he doesn't know anything about cars apparently expects to open the hood and stare at the inner workings and somehow divine the problem. She leans on the car and says, "You fix your car and pretend you're not listening; I'm just gonna stand here and talk to you 'cause I know you are." Jed pretends to wonder what she could possibly want. She cheerfully says, "I've got numbers." Jed: "There's something abnormal about you." She begins citing chapter and verse on the tenure and salaries of various male and female employees at the school.