Genius

by Clare Nonhebel

CHAPTER 33

  Edgar came home in a bad mood. Mildred, hearing him open the front gate, said warningly to Eldred, ‘Your father's out of sorts. Leave the talking to me.’

  'How do you know?’ Eldred asked. 'Before he even comes in the door?’

  'Believe me,’ said Mildred.

  Eldred reflected that his mother seemed to be changing, becoming more self-assured, maybe even more intelligent. This was a new thought. Children, obviously, grew in knowledge because they were continually being taught new things. Even if they failed to retain a lot of the information, a certain percentage of it was bound to stick. But, growing in information, did they grow in intelligence?

  As for adults - without spending their days sitting at a desk being fed information, did they go on growing in knowledge or did they live their adult lives according to the information they had gathered as children? And even if they did continue to accumulate information, did they actually become more intelligent as a result of this? Or was intelligence a given factor over which the recipient had no personal control? Did only the intelligent adults continue to inform themselves while the less intelligent refused new information?

  Eldred judged this a topic worth pursuing. His father came in and slammed the local newspaper down on the kitchen table. His mother edged past him with a pan of Brussels sprouts. 'Dinner in five minutes,’ she said.

  'Do you think,’ said Eldred, 'that adults get more intelligent?’

  Mildred caught him by the collar and wheeled him round. 'Go and wash your hands,’ she said.

  'I just wondered ...’

  'Wonder after lunch,’ she said.

  'That boy is out of control,’ Edgar said. 'We've no idea what he gets up to, half the time. Are we his parents or aren't we? He makes fools of us.’

  Eldred, halfway up the stairs, paused. What was his father talking about? He watched Mildred follow Edgar into the living room.

  'What's troubling you, dear?’ she said.

  'We don't know what he gets up to,’ Edgar shouted. 'We've no idea what goes on in his head or who he meets when he's out, or anything.’

  'Who he meets when he's out?’ Mildred repeated. 'He doesn't go out. Only with me to the launderette or to the park to play football with his friends.’

  'Stupid woman!’ Edgar shouted. 'How can you keep track of him with that devious brain of his when you're so stupid!’

  Eldred was shocked. His father had never called his mother stupid before.

  Mildred sat down and put her hand on her husband's knee. Eldred wondered why she didn't shout back at him and complain about being insulted.

  'What's happened to upset you?’ she said quietly.

  Edgar leaned forward and shook out the newspaper. 'Read that and you'll see!’ he said, stabbing his forefinger on the open page.

  Eldred tiptoed up the stairs, ran the tips of his fingers under the cold tap, wiped them dry on his jeans, and went down again. His mother was reading. His father glared at him.

  'What's wrong?’ asked Eldred.

  'Nothing, dear,’ said Mildred, folding the paper quickly.

  'Let him read it,’ said Edgar grimly. 'Then I've some questions to ask him.’

  Mildred stared at him. 'Surely you don't think that Eldred ...?’

  'What is it?’ said Eldred impatiently. He held out his hand for the paper, but his mother was twisting and squeezing it in her hands as though trying to wring its neck.

  'Terence Arthur Smith,’ said Edgar. 'Do you know him?’

  'Terence Arthur Smith?’ said Eldred, bewildered. 'I don't think so. He's not in my class, anyway.’

  'I'm not talking about school!’ his father shouted. 'Don't play silly buggers with me!’

  'Edgar!’ Mildred protested. 'Don't talk to the child like that!’

  'Child!’ Edgar roared. 'Is he a child, Mildred? Is he? Or have we reared some monster?’

  Mildred put an arm round Eldred's shoulders protectively. 'Of course he's a child,’ she said reprovingly. 'You're getting carried away, Edgar.’

  'Getting carried away, am I?’ Edgar said bitterly. 'And what if our son has got carried away, under our very noses, and his own parents have neglected to notice that he is in moral danger?’

  Eldred was interested. 'Why am I in mortal danger, Dad?’

  'Not mortal,’ his father snorted. 'Moral danger, I said. This Terence Arthur Smith. Do you mean to deny that you know him?’

  'I don't know him!’ Eldred protested. 'Why do you keep saying I do?’

  'Eldred, your father means Terry,’ said Mildred gently. 'That man you talk to, who works in the library.’

  'What's happened to him?’ asked Eldred. A terrible sense of foreboding came over him.

  'When did you last see him?’ said Mildred.

  'Friday,’ said Eldred. 'No, not Friday, no.’

  'You see?’ said Edgar. 'He's lying.’

  'I'm not lying!’ Eldred shouted.

  'He's not,’ Mildred said.

  'So how come his brilliant memory fails him on this point?’ said Edgar acidly.

  'Edgar,’ said Mildred. 'Give him time to think. You've got him confused, with all your accusations.’

  'I went to the library on Friday,’ said Eldred with dignity, 'but he wasn't there. I talked to a woman; I don't know her. She said he was having some time off or something.’

  'He'll be having a lot more time off,’ said Edgar. 'Go on Mildred, give it to him to read.’

  With reluctance, Mildred handed the paper to Eldred. Scanning it quickly, he read that Terence Arthur Smith, aged twenty-three, had been arrested at his home, following allegations by several pre­teenage boys that Terence Arthur Smith had molested them. Eldred put the paper down on the table and turned away.

  'Read it,’ his father insisted.

  'I've read it,’ he said.

  'All of it,’ Edgar pursued.

  'I've read it,’ said Eldred.

  'And what have you to say?’

  'I'll have to think about this,’ Eldred said.

  'You will not think!’ his father shouted. 'You will give me a direct answer straight away!’

  'What answer?’ said Eldred.

  'What answer do you think? The truth! I want the truth, boy!’

  'I meant,’ said Eldred, 'what is the question?’

  'What do you suppose the question is? What did he do to you, this Terence Arthur, this pervert, eh?’

  'Edgar!’ Mildred protested again.

  'I'm not going to apologize,’ Edgar said. 'Call a spade a spade, that's my way.’

  'He didn't do anything,’ Eldred said.

  'What do you mean, he didn't do anything? He was your friend, wasn't he?’ Edgar gave the word a sinister emphasis. 'You're always talking about Terry, aren't you? Terry this, Terry that, Terry the clever man who knows so much more than your parents about just about everything, except how a decent man should behave!’

  Eldred swallowed.

  'Answer me!’ his father shouted.

  'I will answer you,’ said Eldred, though his voice, Mildred noticed, was shaky. 'He was my friend. I suppose he still is. He didn't do anything - that is, he talked to me and found me books and helped me to look things up, and sometimes he talked about himself or he gave me advice about things I didn't know how to do...’

  'What kind of advice?’ Edgar demanded.

  'Edgar, let him finish,’ said Mildred. 'Please.’

  'Son,’ said Edgar more gently, 'I'm not going to punish you. It's not you I'm angry with. I just want you to tell me straight.’

  'I am,’ said Eldred. 'You're not listening to me. I'm afraid you're not going to believe me, even if I do tell you straight.’

  'I'll believe you,’ his father said, 'as long as you tell me the truth.’

  'Okay,’ Eldred said. 'I don't know if these ... these allegations are true, by these other boys. They might be. Something makes me feel they might be true. He did ask me back to his flat once, but I said I had to get home for tea.’r />
  Mildred, imperceptibly, let out a small sigh of breath and her hands, which had been twisting her apron into a knot, relaxed.

  'He is not a bad man,’ Eldred said, 'whatever anyone says, and whatever he did.’ Edgar moved to interrupt, but a look from his wife silenced him. Eldred continued. 'I think he was very lonely. Isolated. His mother was sick. She didn't recognize him any more. He'd given up his chance of university to stay home and look after her, and then she didn't need him any more and he had nobody. No friends his own age or anything.’

  'That doesn't excuse...’ Edgar began.

  Eldred raised his voice slightly. ‘I’m not making excuses for him,’ he said. 'I’m just saying don’t get angry with him because of me. Those other boys’ parents can. But he didn't ... he didn't expose himself indecently to me, or in any way interfere with me genitally, or commit sodomy with me.’

  Edgar gasped.

  'He reads,’ said Mildred quickly. ‘He knows all these terms because he reads. It doesn't mean he's talking from personal experience. Isn't that right, Eldred?’

  'I'm telling you the truth, Dad,’ said Eldred. 'Really.’

  His father's forehead was covered with sweat. Eldred felt sorry for him.

  'I don't think he would have tried to do those things to me,’ Eldred reassured him. 'I mean, I wouldn't have let him but anyway I don't think he would have done that to me. I was his friend.’

  'That's what worries me,’ Edgar said. 'What kind of friends are you making? What's wrong with your schoolfriends?’

  'It's different,’ said Eldred. 'They're people I play with. They can't teach me things.’

  Mildred smoothed her apron as though she meant business. 'Dinner,’ she said firmly. 'It's nearly two o'clock. What is the world coming to?’

  'I don't want any,’ Eldred said. 'Can I go to my room?’

  'You'll sit with us and have something, at least,’ said Mildred. Seeing Eldred's hesitation, she said, 'The subject is closed now. It won't be discussed all dinnertime. Will it, Dad?’

  'It isn't finished yet, by a long chalk,’ Edgar said.

  'Eldred,’ Mildred said, 'go into the kitchen and fetch me the mustard, will you? There's a good boy. Top cupboard, bottom left shelf.’ When he had gone, she said quietly. 'It is finished, Edgar. Let it go. He's upset enough.’

  'He's standing up for the fellow,’ Edgar said. 'He calls him his friend.’

  'No, it'll be all right,’ Mildred said.

  'How do you know?’

  'Because,’ Mildred said, 'he'll think about all this when he's on his own and he'll work it out for himself. That's what he always does. We mustn't interfere with it. Well done, Eldred, you found the mustard. Put it by your father's plate, and we'll eat then.’