In article <7cbua6llc4nne19s0rtbgcn2cogveqj57v@4ax.com>, HMS Victor
Victorian <victorvictorian@hushunomail.com> wrote:
> Act 4, Scene 2
>
> The Pries
> t
> 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
Right on, Nigel!
Simple logic, and religion and social customs, aren't compatible.
Coincidence my next Stevie story speculates on the logic of God?
I could say great minds think alike, but we will have to find one who
is your equal, first.
I think if you posted them individually, you could generate more
responses. I know it's hard not to post all you've written at once.
It's a gigantic temptation for me, which is very hard to resist.
Anyway you do it, I hope you continue. Well written and fun, with some
good commentary.
--
Grant
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