Act 3, Scene 1
Claris
Wednesday, April 6th, 1:20 pm
Four days later. Wickham athletic field on a sunny afternoon, where
the six-to-ten year old children are in recess. Mrs. Macmillan,
having arrived at the school office with Claris to gather up Nigel for
his appointment with a child therapist, had sent her daughter out onto
the field to find him.
Claris exited the school building, grumbling to herself over the
injustice of having to fetch her brother. As a student at Filey
Secondary Academy, the thought of being seen at primary was
mortifying. Puffing up her superiority, she started onto the grassy
field. Then she stopped, in spite of herself. Coming onto a field
during a recess, one expects to see drippy-nosed children running
across the whole place, cacophonously playing ball or chase or blind's
man bluff or skipping rope.
There certainly were children here and there on the field, but a great
majority of them seemed to have congregated in a crowd off at a back
corner. That, in itself, wasn't overly peculiar. A grouping such as
fisticuffs. Claris, although now too worldly and sophisticated to be
seen among such twits, found herself immediately tempted to go
investigate, but she dismissed the idea. Mum was waiting and, knowing
Nigel's painful insecurities, she determined that, of all places, she
wouldn't find him there.
Just she turned to search over the few remaining children at play,
something unusual caught her eye. Hands and arms going up and down
looked back towards the group.
She wasn't immediately sure, but she could swear she saw a pair of
empty corduroy trousers flung through the air. Yes! There they went
again! And first one shoe, then a sock, then the other shoe, tossed
from one set of hands to another. Suddenly, like a commando
"Oh, bugger it all!" Claris swore as reality hit her, and she began to
stride quickly across the lawn towards the fracas.
the building. He streaked by Claris without so much as a nod, but
with an intensely determined look on his round face and angry tears in
his eyes, and then vanished into the school.
escapee.
Claris easily pushed through the rambunctious revelry, for she was a
stout girl, snatching in airborne articles of clothing as she came
through. A good number of children immediately fled, assuming her to
be an adult monitor or college intern of some sort, but a handful of
students at the fulcrum of events remained. Claris at once saw her
brother, easily the shortest child there and, not coincidentally, the
least well-dressed by far.
"What the bloody nora! She shouted, "Get over here, Nigel!"
"But he's got my watch. He's got my Pooh watch!" Nigel cried, his
face flushed, "Give it back!"
Claris stepped up to grab her brother's hand. He'd clearly been
pushed to the ground several times, his nakedness a contrast of white
skin, grass clippings and freckles. Other than a bruise here and
"Come on, you idiot." Claris hissed and scooped up the last of Nigel's
clothing, "Mum's waiting. You've got to go see the shrink."
"But he's got my WATCH!"
Claris looked toward one of the larger boys. Being that she was far
larger than him, the schoolboy's bravado flagged, and he involuntarily
took a step in retreat. Sure enough, he had, wrapped in a fist,
Nigel's Pooh watch.
"You shouldn't have taken it off, then, shouldn't 've you?" Claris
snapped, seizing Nigel's arm with a free hand. "Come on. You're going
to be LATE! For God's sake, put a shirt on, would you? You look like
a naked Indian. You're so embarrassing!"
Claris started off for the main building, tugging her naked brother
wasn't even crying anymore, rather screeching like an infuriated imp.
"He's got my watch. He's got my watch! He's got my WATCH! I want my
WATCH!"
With this ignoble departure, bravery rose again in the ten-year-old
indiscretion or foolishness, or all three rolled up. Whatever, he
hurled an invective after them
.
"Woy don't chu keep tha' spack at 'ome, where 'e belongs!" the fellow
yelled out. "The li'l retawd! He's nothin' more 'n a l'il homo,
ain't he? Run'n 'bout all starkers like uh firs' class TURD BURGLER!"
His companions, boys and girls both, took confidence at hearing his
insults. They laughed and jeered.
"Yeah!"
"You tell 'em, Dirk!"
"Go on, you l'il shit. An' don' come back, either or I'll give you a
banging!"
Claris stopped and shook Nigel by the shoulders.
clothes on. You move, I swear I'll box your ears flat!"
Claris strode, fuming, up to Dirk, Nigel's tormentor. Still, he held
"Listen, you bleeding sod," Claris growled, "You touch him again, I'll
kick your arse so hard you'll be able to smell it without bending
over."
Dirk forced a smirk, but his eyes betrayed a less assured emotion.
"You don't think I mean it?" Claris warned.
Meanwhile, Nigel had started snuffling and sniffing and trying to
suppress his sobs, clumsily slipping on his smalls and his pants and
his vest and shirt and his socks and his shoes and braces, all
completely soiled. Claris suddenly returned to his side.
"Here's your bleedin' watch. Now let's go." She held it out. Nigel
sniffed and took it.
"But what about HIM?"Nigel said, looking back towards Dirk.
"HIM?" his sister grunted. "He'll get up in a bit, but he'll be
your nose!"
Claris pulled Nigel across the field.
"Oh, look. Here comes Evan and Headmaster Chandler!" Nigel said
simply, exactly if he just stepped onto the street out of a cab.
Both of them, tall and short, fat and thin, were sprinting across the
lawn, Chandler's tie and jacket flailing out behind him. They met in
the middle of the field.
"Oh, my dear boy!" Mr. Chandler exclaimed, "Are you quite alright?"
"Oh, hello Mr. Chandler," Claris said, almost sweetly. She still had
a crush on him.
"My wonderful Claris! We miss you terribly here. How's Filey?" the
headmaster replied, then continued to examine Nigel. "We'll have you
checked over at the infirmary. Come along."
"We can't now, "Claris said, "Mum's waiting. Nigel's got an
"Don't be silly, Claris. He's a perfectly normal little fellow!"
Evan, who had been standing silently beside Mr. Chandler, tapped Nigel
lightly on the shoulder, gave him a worried look and mouthed the word,
"Okay?" His concern melted into a proud smile when Nigel nodded.
"Normal." Claris smirked in reply. "Right."
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