Act 4, Scene 2
The Pries
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Sunday, April 11th, 11:30 am
Father Schroeder's office at St. Peter's. Schroeder and the
Macmillans are seated in comfortable easy chairs, taking refreshment
the priest had prepared for their visit. He'd given Nigel a Coca
Cola, which remained untouched, as were the biscuits on his plate. The
boy lay sprawled across the office rug, entranced by pictures of Waura
Indians of the Xingu in a Royal Geographic he'd discovered on the
shelf.
"I'd say your desperation was well founded!" Father Schroeder laughed.
It was a pleasant but peculiarly high laugh that matched his
diminutive stature. "I'm still mystified at how quickly Nigel got out
of his clothes, and more so as to how quickly you got him back in
them!"
The priest laughed again, but let it subside into a moment of
discomfort. Neither Roger nor Angela seemed to appreciate the humour
of the situation.
"Would you care for an aspirin?" he asked Mrs. Macmillan with real
concern. "Perhaps a bit of brandy?"
"The former, please, Father," Angela replied, "Though I am greatly
tempted to take the latter. I've got a beastly headache."
The priest drew a small tin of aspirin from the lamp table drawer, and
then slid out of his chair to get Mrs. Macmillan some water.
"Thank you very much for the beautiful blessing this morning," Roger
said, mostly to fill the silence. "It was very considerate and meant a
"It was my pleasure," the priest replied, "But from what I see now, I
Indianer. Would you like to take that home with you, Nigel?"
"Yes, please sir." The boy said.
Schroeder stood there for a moment, smiling down at him, then brought
his attention back to the parents.
"How long has Nigel been interested in Indians of South America?"
"Perhaps you know, dear."
Angela looked perplexed.
"He doesn't bring any books home about Indians, or anything else with
a similar theme?" the priest asked, then added, "If you know what I
mean."
"No. No, I don't believe so."
"Very well." Father Schroeder folded his hands in front of him, "If
you feel it appropriate and with your permission, I would like to talk
to Nigel alone for a few minutes. Stroll around the garden, if you
wish. It's very nice at this time of year."
"Oh, yes. Certainly." Mr. and Mrs. Macmillan said, obediently
standing, and the priest politely escorted them out. It was a few
minutes before he came back in, closed and locked the door. He eased
back into his leather chair.
"Let's talk about things, Nigel," he said. "Would you like to talk?"
"Are you going to do an examination?" the boy replied without looking
up from the magazine.
"What do you mean an 'examination'?"
"Oh, like Ian did. My therapist." Nigel answered off-handedly.
"Looking for ouches and bumps and swollen parts."
The priest chuckled.
"Dear Lord, no." He said, and patted the overstuffed arm of his chair.
"Come and sit here next to me, Nigel."
The boy closed the Royal Geographic, slipped it under his waistcoat so
as not to forget it, then got up and unhesitatingly climbed onto the
priest's chair. He straddled the chair arm like mounting a horse, the
leather making squeaking sounds. The effect was to hike up his short
trousers, making his skinny legs appear longer and even whiter.
"Are you comfortable?"
"Not very, Father Arnold." Nigel said. Lying to a priest was a bad
thing. "But it's not a bother."
"That's a good fellow," Schroeder patted the boy on a bare knee. "Call
"Your mummy and daddy are very concerned for you. They don't
understand why you must remove your clothes in public. Can you tell
me why?"
Nigel began to fiddle with his zip.
"I want to be comfortable. I don't feel comfortable when I've got
clothes on."
"Were you always that way?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Well, when did it start?"
"I don't remember."
"You're mummy says perhaps it was four or six weeks ago," Father Arnie
mentioned, scratching an ear. "March? February, perhaps? Awfully
cold to be running around undressed, don't you think?"
Nigel furrowed his brow and pursed his lips, thinking.
"I think it was last summer, when we were on holiday. We went
"So your mummy let you go swimming without clothes on." The priest
finished for him.
"Yes. It was my first time." Nigel nodded his head a bit in
embarrassment, "I think I quite liked it."
"Well, of course you did!"
she made a lot of fun of me and said all kinds of things."
grin, "That as a boy I would go swimming without any clothes on at
all?"
"Really?" Nigel was suddenly impressed, and he looked directly into
the priests eyes for the truth. "You DID?"
"Ja, ja, wirklich. But you must promise not to tell a single soul."
He lightly tapped Nigel's nose with a finger. "My dear chums and I
would run off to a little lake near my boyhood home and spend the day
there, swimming and lying in the grass, frolicking and having our
"Oh, that must have been wonderful fun!" Nigel was entranced by the
prospect. "And VERY comfortable."
"Yes, it was." Father Arnie smiled, remembering. Then he turned
somewhat serious. "But the day always ended, and we got dressed again.
We got dressed and returned to our homes and our everyday lives. As
The priest sounded more regretful that he had intended.
Nigel fell silent, looking at Pooh's hands creeping round on his
wrist watch.
"We forgot our childhood freedoms, and life went on, as it should."
Then Father Arnie posed a question to Nigel. "Do you know why we wear
clothes?"
"Because we'll catch our death?" Nigel said, "Or get a cat scratch or
get it caught in the door?"
Father Arnie suppressed a laugh.
"Not actually. Do people in your neighborhood wear clothes when it is
hot outside?"
"So, why don't they take them off?"
"Because," the boy dared to guess, "It's nasty?"
"No, no." the priest shook his head. "It's not nasty. God made us,
just as he made everything. Our Father doesn't make nasty things. His
creations are beautiful, as you are beautiful."
"Then why?"
"Do you remember the story of Adam and Eve, and the Garden of Eden?"
"I think so."
"Well, you recall that God the Father told Adam that all he saw in the
beautiful garden, all the plants and animals and insects and birds
and, yes, even Eve, was made for him, for his Father loved him so.
Adam and Eve were innocent, just like little children. God the Father
wanted to know if Adam would obey him, just as you obey your Daddy. So
The Father warned Adam that he shouldn't eat from a particular tree or
"The apple tree." Nigel finished.
The priest smiled.
"Korrekt! It was the tree of knowledge. Still, Eve took a bite of
the fruit. It was delicious! When she didn't die, she had Adam take
a bite, too. And what do you think happened?"
"God threw them out of the garden." Nigel answered.
"When Adam and Eve had eaten the fruit, they weren't innocent anymore,
like small children. They could know good and evil. All of a sudden,
they knew they were naked, and they were ashamed of their bodies, so
they put on leaves to cover themselves."
"Really?" Nigel asked, looking quite baffled. "So being naked IS
nasty, but Adam and Eve just didn't know it because they were like
little children, and then they ate the apple and they knew it was
nasty?"
"More or less, and from that day, people have covered themselves up."
"So God doesn't want me to take my clothes off?"
Father Arnie hedged the question.
"It's seen as immodest and immoral, particularly if boys and girls are
together," he explained. "So, do you see why your mummy and daddy were
so concerned for you?"
"I guess so, Father Arnie." Nigel began fidgeting though his short
"What is it, Nigel?"
Nigel heaved a long sigh.
neighbour."
The priest leaned back, both mystified and intrigued.
"What do you mean?"
"I picked some flowers from her garden for my mum. I knew it was
wrong because Mrs. Whitby told me 'You better stay out of my garden,
nasty little boy', but she didn't ever say why I had to stay out or
what she'd do if I got in."
"I'm not sure I understand your parable," Father Arnie smiled.
"My daddy sometimes punishes me when I'm bad and he says if you don't
take out the rubbish then you will have to sit in a corner for a time
with Pooh. He always says what he's going to do if I'm bad. Mrs.
Whitby didn't say she'd take me over to Mum and say terrible things
about me in front of her. Isn't that what God did to Adam?"
"God made Adam go away from his garden and all his animal playmates
and he didn't even tell him that he'd do that." Nigel continued, "And
it wasn't even his fault, was it? Eve tricked him, because she wanted
to be his only playmate-she didn't like all the animals. I don't
think girls like animals very much."
"Well, it's not fair. God is supposed to be fair. She did a bad
thing, and God made both of them leave forever, and now no one can go
in the garden, not even the animals. My Daddy just makes me sit in a
corner with Pooh. He doesn't lock me out and say 'Go and don't come
back.' Adam's father should have told Eve to go, and then let Adam
stay. It was her fault."
Nigel looked up from his lap at Father Schroeder. The priest was
sitting there, speechless.
Somewhat encouraged, Nigel continued.
sat for a time that I have to apologise , and then everything is
alright and we sit and watch William Tell on the tellie and eat ice
cream with butterscotch. God didn't let Adam apologise and say he was
sorry. He just made him leave forever and ever."
"But, Nigel." Father Arnie whispered, "It is hard to know God's will,
but we know God the Father loved his son Adam, and he loves you, too."
"Well, I think he's not a nice father at all." Nigel set his jaw and
nodded firmly to himself. "I like my daddy much better."
"Oh, Nigel," Schroeder murmured sympathetically. "You're still very
young, and it is hard to understand these things when you are a
child."
Nigel gave him startled look.
"But didn't Jesus say he wanted everyone, even the grown ups, to be
like a kid?"
"Yes, certainly true."
"I don't think grown ups understand." The boy reasoned, "They're too
grown-uppily."
"Yes, "the priest confessed, opening the lamp table to fetch out an
aspirin. "They can be very grown-uppily, I'm sorry to say."
made Adam and Eve and everyone naked, then why did he say it was nasty
Nigel stopped and glanced away, wrinkling his nose and trying to get
the right idea. Then his eyes lit up.
"It's like when I bring Mummy a particularly good colouring picture I
drew at school and she always says how pretty it is, even if I was
scribbly, and then she puts it up on the refrigerator with cellotape
pretty!' and then put it away in the wardrobe?"
Nigel giggled. "I think that's silly!"
think he can see through everything like walls and doors and
bedclothes and underpants and mountains and train cars. I don't think
he cares if people wear clothes. I think it's the grownups that care
because Jesus said he likes little kids better than them. What do you
think, Father Arnie?"
"Nigel," Father Arnie admitted, shaking his head, "I suddenly have no
idea."
HMSVV2010
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