Act 2, Scene 4
Naked Indians
Friday, April 2nd, 2:15 pm
The Headmaster's Office, Wickham Primary School. Nigel is seated in a
large maple chair across from Mr. Chandler, the Headmaster. Jonathan
Chandler had served Wickham as headmaster for nearly two decades, and
he considered himself very good at not only maintaining a level of
propriety, instruction and discipline expected by the parents, but by
having a rare rapport with his young students. He often maintained
that, as a university student and young teacher, he hadn't learned a
career a success by listening to and learning from the children. There
was no doubt as to his excellence, confirmed by the numerous
certificates and plaques on his office wall. Chandler was greatly
respected, and the parents were thrilled to get their boys and girls
into Wickham.
"Nigel," Mr. Chandler began seriously, staring across his desk at the
diminutive boy seated in the maple chair. He paused to get up and
discreetly close the office door. Rather than return to his desk, he
knelt beside Nigel, put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and smiled
quite warmly. "Let's come to an understanding, shall we?"
"Yes, sir." Nigel murmured, staring down at his folded hands.
"You're quite a pleasant fellow, you know." Headmaster Chandler began.
not at all. You're such a sensitive young man. Any school would be
proud to have you. I am proud to have you."
"Thank you very much, sir." Nigel replied with a shadow of a smile.
"And I hope that Mrs. Farthley's apology was as acceptable to you as
it was to your mummy and dad."
"Oh, yes, sir. I felt horrible for her because she cried so."
understand why?"
"Well," Nigel ventured, "Because Mum and Dad had called her a . . ."
"Ahem," Mr. Chandler interrupted and cleared his throat. "You like
Mrs. Farthley, don't you?"
"Oh, yes, sir," Nigel lied. "Very much, sir."
Chandler smiled. The boy was no idiot.
"So you wouldn't do anything that might hurt or upset her, would you?"
"Oh no, sir."
"You're not the type of boy who likes to harm people, even
accidentally. Isn't that right?" Mr. Chandler gave Nigel's shoulder
an affectionate squeeze. Then he stood up without waiting for a
response and lowered himself into the wooden chair beside Nigel's.
"You are a very thoughtful boy, yet nonetheless, somehow something
upset Mrs. Farthley terribly."
"Yes, sir."
"What do you think it might have been?" Chandler folded his hands
together and leaned forward with an expression of sincere concern.
"What do YOU think, Nigel?"
"I took off my clothes."
The headmaster gave a pleased smile, and nodded.
"And what about the other students? What did they do?"
"They were laughing."
"And why?"
The headmaster chuckled.
"No, no. I mean, why were they laughing at you?"
"Because Mrs. Farthley said I was a naked Hermes and made me stand on
Chandler shook his head a bit impatiently, and then recovered his
smile.
"Before that."
"I was naked?"
"Why do you think that would make your classmates laugh at you?"
"Because boys aren't allowed to run about starkers?"
"Yes," the headmaster agreed, "It is against the rules, isn't it?"
"But it's not on the school rule list." Nigel protested, "It doesn't
say 'Children will not sit in spelling lessons without clothes on'."
"I'll give you that, Nigel. We can't write every possible rule. But
it is still a rule. Isn't every student required to wear a proper
uniform when attending Wickham?"
"Yes, sir." Nigel mumbled.
"And were you, at that given moment, correctly attired?"
"No, sir." Nigel whispered. "I'm sorry, sir."
"Now you're a smart chap. You know there are good rules and silly
ones." The headmaster stood back up, turned and casually sat on the
edge of his desk. "A school has rules to allow every teacher to teach
and every student an equal chance to learn and succeed, including you,
Nigel. Now tell me. Were the students learning their spelling while
you were incorrectly attired?"
"I suppose not, sir."
"And were you learning your spelling?"
"No sir."
"And was Mrs. Farthley able to teach her lesson?"
The boy's chin dropped and he shook his head no.
"There you are, you see. You didn't mean to do harm, but when you
removed you clothes, all education ceased, did it not?"
Nigel sank down in his chair and bit his lower lip emotionally.
"My boy, "Chandler continued in a soft, considerate voice, "This rule
is not simply a school rule, but a rule of our society. I'm sure your
mother and father have impressed that on you. I know there are a lot
of rules in life," and he paused for effect, "But can you see this one
rule is important to observe?"
"But," Nigel muttered, "What about the Mehinaku?"
The headmaster was completely taken aback.
"I'm sorry, Nigel?" Chandler said, "Say again? The Many-what-who?"
Nigel sighed and repeated with painful diction, "The May-hee-naw-coo."
"Yes? Go on."
"They are a native tribe in South America." the boy explained rapidly,
as if trying to get out his last words before facing execution,
"They're Indians and they run around all the time, night and day,
without a stitch, starkers night and day, just a little string 'bout
their waists, even the ladies and the grandmas and grandpas and all
the boys and girls, night and day and you can see EVERYTHING and it's
"Well, why NOT? Why can't it be a rule here, TOO? They're all so
comfortable and happy and having fun all the time, swimming all day
and swinging in trees and wrestling in the mud and shooting monkeys
"I wish I were a naked Indian," Nigel continued, sighing, "I wish I
was Christopher Robin in the Hundred Acres Forest so I could be a
naked Indian!"
The despondent little fellow was beginning to tear up in desperation,
knowing his argument was sinking as surely as the Titanic.
any child.
"But he COULD be if he WANTED to be. People LET him be a PIRATE and
PRINCE and an ADMIRAL and an SAFARI EXPLORER. I didn't mean to hurt
have INDIAN rules and not our own BEASTLY rules!"
At that point, Chandler laughed out loud, so startling Nigel that the
boy bolted up straight in the chair.
"I'm sorry, sir." The boy whispered sheepishly, and wiped away a tear.
"My, you are a piece of work!" the headmaster exclaimed and patted
Nigel on the head. "Oh, don't worry. I won't tell your mum. Beastly,
indeed!" And he laughed again, drawing a tentative smile from Nigel.
"But, tell me, Nigel. Where in heaven's name do you learn such
"The school library, sir. They've got picture books. You have to
wait weeks and weeks for them. All the kids want them."
"Oh." Chandler replied, peering out his office window into the gray
sky. "I'll have to look into that." He turned back.
"Nigel. Look at me." He said gently. "You may indeed one day be a
"Brazil."
Wickham, could you do me the favour of following this little rule, so
as to not upset your teacher and your class and your education again?
In the meantime, "the headmaster added, "I hope you'll stop by my
office often to discuss naked Indians, or whatever else you want, for
that matter, and most especially if something or someone is bothering
you."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Is that all, sir?"
Chandler gazed down at the boy, silent for a moment in thought, his
mouth slightly open and his head tilted curiously. He moved to speak,
thought twice about it, and then decided to go ahead.
"May I inquire?" The headmaster paused to give a whimsical smile, "Why
do you do that? It's very distracting, you know."
"Do what?" the boy replied, momentarily oblivious to his meaning.
"Oh!" Nigel's face lit up in comprehension. "It's a nervous habit. I
do it when I get nervous. I've been very nervous of late, sir."
"Due to recent events, it must be sore, indeed."
"No sir. Do you want to look?"
"I think it best you return to class now, my boy."
"Yes, sir."
Chandler leaned back in his chair and exhaled slowly, thoughtfully,
momentarily surveying the office floor.
HMSVV2010
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