Little Children Page #2

- Hey, that was nice, dude!

"I must have been like this,"

Brad sometimes thought.

"I must have been

one of them."

Awful.

He should be castrated.

Quick and clean,

just chop it off.

Then you wouldn't have to worry

about notifying the neighbors.

You know what else

you should do?

Nail his penis above the entrance

to the elementary school.

You know, as a warning

to other perverts.

You think

this is funny?

I just can't believe you want to

castrate a man for indecent exposure.

My brother used

to expose himself when--

when we were teenagers.

He'd do it in my bedroom,

he'd do it in the dining room,

he'd do it in the back seat of a car.

He'd always figure out a way to do it so

that nobody could see him except me.

Didn't you

tell anyone?

No, I didn't want

to get him in trouble.

Maybe he should

be castrated.

It's not the same thing.

He wasn't doing it to strangers.

Oh my God, there he is.

After all this time,

two days in a row.

Where's the fire?

Maybe he needed a vacation.

From what?

From being

the prom king.

It's a dirty job,

but someone's gotta do it.

- Close it?

- Close it.

Close the gate.

There you go.

- It's open.

- It's all right.

- Somebody else will close it.

- Are we practicing?

Are we playing

up on the swings?

Swing time!

What's he do for a living?

We've never actually

spoken to him.

Really?

We don't even

know his name.

I thought you guys said

he was a regular here.

- It was awkward.

- He made us nervous.

You had to think about what you

were gonna wear in the morning.

You know, put on makeup.

It was exhausting.

Mommy, push me!

Okay.

I'll be right there.

Wait!

Five bucks if you get

his phone number.

How old is she?

Lucy,

tell the nice boy

how old you are.

I'm three.

My grandma

lives in New Jersey.

She doesn't have

a swim pool.

Do you like to swim?

I don't like sharks.

They eat you up.

Don't listen to him.

We go to the town pool

almost every day.

- I'm Brad, by the way.

- Sarah.

You guys come

here a lot?

No, just the last

few weeks.

I usually go to the one

over on Harris,

with the big wood things,

you know, and the slide across.

Yeah, we actually rent a house

right around the corner

from there on Ashforth.

That ice cream truck never leaves.

Such a nightmare.

Yeah, tell me about it.

You know, you're the first person

here who's ever talked to me.

You make 'em nervous.

Oh, right.

I guess they don't see too many fathers

here during the weekdays.

You don't have to be polite.

Go ahead and ask.

What?

You know, what the person who wears the

pants in the family does for a living.

Oh. All right,

what does your wife do?

- She makes documentaries.

- Oh, wow.

- Like Michael Moore?

- Uh, like PBS.

Oh.

Well, I think it's

admirable you're here.

There's no reason fathers

can't be primary caregivers.

I finished law school

two years ago,

but I can't seem to pass the bar exam.

Failed it twice now.

Maybe you just don't

want to be a lawyer.

I'll take the test

one more time.

If I mess up now

I'll just have to find something else

to do with my life.

- Right, buddy?

- Right.

Sarah was shocked by how Brad

delivered this confession,

with no apparent sense of being in the

least bit embarrassed by his failure.

Most men weren't like this.

Her husband Richard

certainly wasn't.

She wondered if Brad was

always this forthcoming.

If anything,

he seemed a little lonely,

all too ready to open his heart at

the slightest sign of interest,

like a lot of young

mothers she knew.

I couldn't help noticing

your stroller.

Do you have

another child?

No, just Aaron.

Got that at a yard sale.

Extra seat comes in handy

for the bear, though.

Lucy refuses to go

in a stroller or a car seat.

We have to walk everywhere. It takes us

half an hour to go three blocks,

unless I carry her.

- Daddy, I'm finished.

- Are you sure? We just got here.

I'm finished right now.

Okay. All right,

here we go.

Ready?

One, two, three.

- Oops.

- Oh, hold on for a second.

- There, thank you.

- Are you okay?

No problem.

It was then while watching Brad

kneel down at his son's feet

that Sarah found herself gripped by

an unexpected pang of sadness.

"Don't go," she thought.

"Don't leave me here

with the others."

- It was nice talking to you.

- Same here.

Wait! Um...

Come here. Just...

come here.

You see those women

over there?

Just, yeah, don't--

don't look.

You know what

they call you?

What?

The prom king.

Oh God, really?

Yeah, they mean it

as a compliment.

You're a big character

in their fantasy lives.

Wow.

Um, so one of them bet me $5

I couldn't get your phone number.

Five bucks, huh?

Yeah.

Could we split

it 50-50?

It could be

arranged.

It doesn't have to be

your real number.

Oh, well, you know, in that case, sure.

You got a pen?

Great. Oh sh*t, no I--

um, no I don't.

- Uh...

- Well...

No wait, just--

wait.

You know what'd

really be funny?

If you gave me a hug.

- You think?

- Yeah.

- Yeah.

- All right, come here.

Oh my God.

Do you want to really

freak them out?

Yeah.

Who's gonna talk in there?

- Oh my God!

- Troy!

- Lucy!

- Isabelle!

Isabelle! Come here, Isabelle.

Okay, we have to go.

- Isabelle!

- Troy!

- I think that worked.

- Yeah, I think so.

- Um, well, it was nice meeting you.

- Yeah.

It's okay, yeah.

We're gonna go.

- It's all right.

- Lucy?

We're gonna go home.

Okay, here we go,

good girl.

Good girl.

I'm sure your daughter

found that very educational.

His name is Brad.

He's a lawyer

and he's really very nice.

For the past few days

Sarah hadn't been able

to concentrate on anything

but the prom king

and the curious thing

that had happened

between them

on the playground.

She didn't feel

shame or guilt,

only a sense of profound

disorientation,

as if she had been

kidnapped by aliens

then released unharmed

a few hours later.

As he had so often

in recent days,

Brad mentally reenacted

the kiss by the swing set.

He still couldn't believe

it had really happened.

And with all those women

and children watching.

Troy! Troy!

Aaron had been particularly

curious about what he'd seen.

Why you hugging

that lady?

Well, that's what

I'm trying to show you with Bozo.

Sometimes it's a game that adults play

to show that they're friends.

You say, "Hi,

I'm your friend."

Aaron was skeptical.

They returned to the playground

the following morning,

but no one was there.

Sarah hadn't shown up

at the town pool either,

though Brad remembered telling

her that he and Aaron

could be found there

most afternoons.

It didn't seem to matter

that Sarah wasn't his type,

wasn't even that pretty--

at least not compared to Kathy,

who had long legs

and lustrous hair

and perfect breasts.

Sarah was short, boyish,

and had eyebrows that were thicker

than Brad thought necessary.

But even so, she'd walked

into his arms that day

as if she were fulfilling

a secret wish

he hadn't remembered

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