Act 5, Scene 2
The Shame of Guilt
Friday, April 16th, 9:30 pm
Roger has just arrived home on the late train, having been detained at
work. He comes into a house mysteriously quiet.
"Hello!" Roger announced, "Anyone at home?"
He peered into the parlour and caught a glimpse of his wife sitting on
the divan, leaning forward with her chin cradled in her hands as if in
deep contemplation.
"Oh!" Angela exclaimed as if coming out of a trance. "I'm sorry Roger,
I was away in thought."
"Well, I'm damned glad I called you earlier," he replied, setting down
his case, "Didn't think I'd ever get away."
"Glad you're home." Angela said with notable sincerity and gave him a
kiss.
"Alright," Roger said, a bit leery, "I'm game. What's up now?"
"Come up stairs. I want you to see something, but be quiet."
They padded up the stairs and stood outside Nigel's bedroom. Slowly,
she pushed the door open, ploughed a small path through the scattered
toys and stepped in.
"Isn't that most darling thing you've ever seen?" she whispered.
Roger looked in over her shoulder. The lamp was out and the room
dark, but a shaft of light coming through the open door fell across
Nigel's bed, where not one but two boys, Nigel and Evan, were asleep,
their arms and legs intertwined as if they'd been suddenly swept away
by the sandman in mid tussle.
"Angela, they're stark naked." Roger exclaimed. "Who on earth is
little fat fellow?"
"Shhh! You'll wake them!" his wife scolded softly, led him out and
silently shut the door. "It's Evan Ethridge, from down the lane,
Nigel's best friend. Let me explain downstairs."
"Where's Claris?" he said with some sarcasm, "Have you sold her?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Angela replied, sitting down on the divan.
"She's at a sleep-over."
"Sleep-overs?" Roger scoffed, "Is there money it? Seems to be
unexpectedly popular this evening."
"I was thinking we could make a few extra bob," Angela explained with
seem to be easy with it."
Her husband looked consummately horrified.
"Oh, you ARE tired," she sighed, then patted the seat beside her,
"Come sit down. I have to make a confession."
Angela explained the circumstances of Evan being upstairs in bed with
Nigel, that when Nigel had asked if his friend might stay the night,
she decided to allow it as a reward for having been good in school the
past week.
"After you called," Angela continued, "I decided I'd give the boys
their supper early ..."
"Great idea," Roger cut in, "Let's eat. I'm famished."
"In a bit, dear," his wife replied, and went on with her story, "So I
went up to Nigel's bedroom to tell the boys to come down and eat."
Angela paused, put her hands together in anticipation, and then looked
into Roger's eyes. Her husband stared blankly back at her. Clearly
the man had no clue whatsoever what she was talking about.
"Oh, Roger," and she laughed a queer little laugh that was mixture of
amusement and regret, "I suppose it was wrong, and I hope you won't
think I'm wicked ..."
"Wicked enough not to feed me," Roger asserted, then chuckled. "So
... go on."
"Well, the boys were waffling and I overheard what they were saying
..." she began, then revised, "The truth is, I saw them first. The
door was slightly open, open enough to see in. Nigel and Evan were
sitting on the bed. Evan had his shirt on ..."
"His SHIRT on?" Roger asked, "That's a peculiar thing to say. I would
expect he would."
"It seems it was all he had on," Angela replied.
"Why aren't I surprised?" Roger sighed.
"But that's not the best of it ... or worst of it, depending," she
went on, "Nigel was completely naked ..."
"Of course," Roger rolled his eyes, "Dear, where are you leading with
this story?"
"At any rate," Angela explained, "Evan and Nigel were sitting on the
bed, across from one another, legs crossed, knee to knee, when I first
glimpsed them, so I immediately pulled back before they saw me. Now,
here's the bad part," she confessed, "And I feel terrible about it. I
didn't go back downstairs to leave them to their privacy, and I didn't
go in and demand the boys get dressed. Do you know what I did?"
"Eavesdropped." Roger stated flatly.
Angela gave him a smack on the shoulder.
"You're just horrible! Horrible, Roger!" she cried. "I hate it when
you're right. Yes. I stood there at the door, listening to every word
the boys said. You can't imagine what they were talking about!"
"I think I've got an idea ..."
"They were actually comparing penises, and the quality of their
Angela stopped.
"Stiffy?" Roger offered.
"Their words exactly! How did you know?"
"Angela ... I was a boy once myself."
"Just then, Poohkums brushed against my leg and I gave a bit of a
start, which startled the cat, and the cat ran into the room. I heard
Nigel say something about a game and kitty and before you know it,
Nigel and Evan were in absolute hysterics ..."
"So you peeked in ..."
"This is my story, Roger," Angela said with a pout, and hit him again
on the shoulder. "Yes! I leaned up to the crack and peered in and
you'll NEVER guess what I saw!"
Roger opened his mouth to make a guess.
"Don't you ... !" she warned.
Her husband held up his hands in surrender and leaned back in the
divan.
"Evan and Nigel were taking turns lying along the edge of the
mattress, on their sides facing out from the edge. The cat was on the
floor, waving the tip of her tail the way she does when she's stalking
something. Well, Nigel went first. He had a ... his willie was ...
well, you know ..."
"Hard?"
"Right! And he'd arch his back ever so slowly and extend his ... oh,
how do you say ..."
"Erection."
"Roger, must you be so graphic?"
"It's not my story," he replied.
"Right. He'd tease the cat with it, and Poohkums would leap up and
smack it around, and Nigel would just burst into laughter. I didn't
know whether to be appalled or charmed. Well, then came Evan's turn,
the poor boy. He's a bit chunky, you know, so his ... um ..."
"Woody."
"Right. Wouldn't quite reach out far enough, and I thought he'd fall
off the bed trying. The cat did get him once." Angela then stopped
and gave a puzzled look.
"That cat's got her claws," she noted, "But do you know she didn't
scratch the boys once?"
"Interesting revelation." Roger said, feigning interest. "Perhaps we
could have the furniture redesigned."
His wife gave him a cool stare.
"Well, certainly a riveting tale," Roger said, slapping his knees and
standing up. "Let's eat."
"Oh, but I'm not done," Angela whispered, "Now is the worst part of it
all."
"There's more?" Roger asked in real apprehension. "The police didn't
come knocking, I hope."
"Of course not, twit. But right at the moment I was going to go
downstairs to get supper, I turn around and there was Claris right
behind me, as if out of thin air! I gave a cry, lost my balance, and
stumbled right into Nigel's room."
"I can imagine Claris' reaction."
"Yes, she made that gagging sound she always makes, and says 'gross'.
She said she'd just come back to get her Beatles records for the
sleep-over and then she stomps out in a huff. I turn 'round. Nigel
looked shocked, but Evan tumbled right off the bed and when he climbed
back on, covering himself with a pillow ... he was an absolute
portrait of terror and he began to cry. I felt so badly for him."
"Well, yes," Roger commented, "I think we've all had similar
embarrassments."
"No." she insisted. "It was real fear. I sat beside him and gave him
a hug and told him not to cry, that I wasn't angry or disgusted and I
didn't think he was a nasty little boy, that he was handsome, and I
wouldn't tell his mum."
Angela abruptly looked away, feeling her emotions rise.
"And do you know that Nigel was right there consoling Evan, saying
'Don't cry. It's only Mummy, Evan. Don't cry. Mummy always comes
She stopped, still looking off.
"Then I realised two things. First, there's a great chasm between
being a child and being an adult. Evan wasn't upset because he'd been
playing with his penis, he was upset because when he was discovered,
he knew others, the grownups, would be upset and possibly get him in
trouble."
She glanced back at Roger a whimsical expression.
"Roger. When do you suppose we stopped feeling shame and started
feeling guilt?"
"We all feel shame, kids and adults alike."
"No," Angela disagreed. "Evan felt shame and fear, because he'd got
caught and was afraid of getting in trouble, not because he was
diddling with himself. I'm talking about guilt, what you feel when
you've done something bad even though you KNOW no one else will EVER
know."
"Second," she added, on the verge of tears, "At that moment it
occurred to me that... you and me ... we did something right. We
really, really did, Roger ... that we're truly good parents, to have
such a thoughtful, compassionate boy ... and so smart!"
Roger put his arm around his wife. She looked up at him through the
tears, not sentimentally, but with deep desperation.
"We did something right, Roger," she said, adding almost gravely, "I
don't want us to do something wrong!"
"It will be alright with Nigel," her husband promised.
"At any rate," Angela said, dabbing her eyes, "Evan finally calmed
down and asked to get his clothes so he might go home. Nigel looked
very downcast, so I asked Evan if he wouldn't stay, that he needn't
get dressed, because after supper I was going to draw the bath."
She chuckled.
"And Nigel said, 'After supper? Are we going to eat naked?' and,
believe or not, I actually said, 'Why the hell not? So we did."
"You ... ate with the boys ... naked?"
"No, silly." She protested, and gave him an accusatory look, "So I
drew the bath and the boys had a wonderful time together-although next
time they put that much water on the floor, I'll strangle one of
them-and went right off to bed, where you see them as they are now."
"Nude."
"Cosy." She corrected, "They're comfy-cosy."
"Angela," Roger began with a rather ominous look, "I promise you, we
won't do wrong with Nigel, but do you understand the possible
ramifications of actually supporting this behaviour? If we encourage
Nigel to run about naked by allowing his best friend to run about
naked-and Lord knows what Mr. and Mrs. Ethridge would say ..."
"Oh, they won't know ..."
"Listen to yourself. How would you feel as a parent if ..."Roger's
lecturing voice trailed off and returned to his first point, "I think
we understand it is the right thing to do to help Nigel get along in a
society-now granted one that's often cruel and unjust and bordering on
mad-that stigmatises this kind of behaviour. We're talking about the
boy's happiness ... maybe not today, but in the years to come ..."
His voice and his expression softened.
"Sweet heart, that's the world. We can't change it. All we can do is
try to insure our boy's happiness in it, for better or worse."
"You're probably right," she admitted, "But at what cost, Roger?"
Angela stood up to make for the kitchen, and then turned back with a
quizzical expression.
"So, do you think we should have the cat declawed?"
HMSVV2010
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