CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
(George and Mary Sampson are talking in their bedroom. UNKNOWN to them their young son Harold is listening at the door.)
George: Did you hear what that lady said about young Barnaby today?
Mary: Yes dear, she said it directly to me.
George: She said he has the eyes of an angel! And did you hear what he said.
Mary: Yes dear.
George: He said God gave him those eyes and that he isn't an angel, just a boy destined to do God's work. He's four years old but he already wants to do God's work!
Mary: I know dear.
George: And he really does have the eyes of an angel.
Mary: Truly it is so, dear.
George: If only...
Mary: Don't bring it up, dear. It will only upset you.
George: It's just that Barnaby is such a good son! Wanting to go to church, wanting to read from the bible all day until his little angel eyes hurt...all he thinks about is how best to serve his Lord! I'm so proud!
Mary: We have two sons, dear.
George: And as I said I'm proud of Barnaby.
Mary: You must be proud of Harold too, dear. He is our son.
George: Must I? Must I be proud of him simply for existing? I'm not sure if it says that is so in the bible, I may have to check.
Mary: You're being sarcastic, dear.
George: Not as sin! Wasn't out Lord himself sarcastic on the cross?
Mary: No dear.
George: I love Harold, in my own way. But proud of him. I'd be lying if I said I was.
Mary: Give him time, dear.
George: He's six, he shows no interest in God's word...what is wrong with him!? What will he grow up to be? A killer? A paedophile? A homosexual?
Mary: With our solid family and church framework...
George: It's not enough! Do you know what he said after church on Sunday? He said "if Jesus fed five thousand people then how come NONE of them ever talked about it?" That's what he said!
Mary: Well dear, he's a curious boy, asking questions...
George: DO NOT QUESTION FAITH!
(He shouted so loud the crucifixes on their wall shook.)
Mary: No dear, of course not.
George: And look at his eyes...both brown, not blue like our angel-eyed Barnaby. I wonder, sometimes, if he was not doomed for a life of sin when he was born with such a beastly face.
Mary: The Lord tests us all, dear.
George: What did we do to deserve such a death as Harold? Perhaps he should have been stillborn. He was weak at birth. Perhaps he was supposed to be stillborn.
Mary: I did wonder that myself, dear.
(Harold had heard enough. Tears were running down his face, from his brown eyes. He then saw Barnaby standing in his bedroom doorway, clutching his favourite bible as always, his blue eyes shining even in the darkness. Harold wanted to run away and he did so, blindly, his vision obscured by tears, he went to run down the stairs, but he slid on another of Barnaby's bibles which was lying on the top step and fell. He landed right on the top of his head with a sickening thud. George and Mary ran out. Barnaby walked after them, calm, detached.)
George: Barnaby!?
Mary: No, he's fine, dear.
George: Oh thank the Lord!
Mary: Harold looks badly hurt, dear.
George: Don't look Barnaby...your pure eyes should not look on such ruin.
Mary: He's still breathing, dear.
George: Oh...oh! Great!
Mary: Yes dear.
SIX MONTHS LATER
(They are having dinner. Harold is paralysed from the waist down and sitting in his wheelchair at the table. Barnaby reaches for the salt but can't reach.)
Barnaby: Daddy I can't reach the salt!
George: Help your brother, Harold.
Harold: I can't reach in my chair.
George: YOU CAN IF YOU TRY.
Mary: He's useless, dear. Utterly useless.
THE END
George: Did you hear what that lady said about young Barnaby today?
Mary: Yes dear, she said it directly to me.
George: She said he has the eyes of an angel! And did you hear what he said.
Mary: Yes dear.
George: He said God gave him those eyes and that he isn't an angel, just a boy destined to do God's work. He's four years old but he already wants to do God's work!
Mary: I know dear.
George: And he really does have the eyes of an angel.
Mary: Truly it is so, dear.
George: If only...
Mary: Don't bring it up, dear. It will only upset you.
George: It's just that Barnaby is such a good son! Wanting to go to church, wanting to read from the bible all day until his little angel eyes hurt...all he thinks about is how best to serve his Lord! I'm so proud!
Mary: We have two sons, dear.
George: And as I said I'm proud of Barnaby.
Mary: You must be proud of Harold too, dear. He is our son.
George: Must I? Must I be proud of him simply for existing? I'm not sure if it says that is so in the bible, I may have to check.
Mary: You're being sarcastic, dear.
George: Not as sin! Wasn't out Lord himself sarcastic on the cross?
Mary: No dear.
George: I love Harold, in my own way. But proud of him. I'd be lying if I said I was.
Mary: Give him time, dear.
George: He's six, he shows no interest in God's word...what is wrong with him!? What will he grow up to be? A killer? A paedophile? A homosexual?
Mary: With our solid family and church framework...
George: It's not enough! Do you know what he said after church on Sunday? He said "if Jesus fed five thousand people then how come NONE of them ever talked about it?" That's what he said!
Mary: Well dear, he's a curious boy, asking questions...
George: DO NOT QUESTION FAITH!
(He shouted so loud the crucifixes on their wall shook.)
Mary: No dear, of course not.
George: And look at his eyes...both brown, not blue like our angel-eyed Barnaby. I wonder, sometimes, if he was not doomed for a life of sin when he was born with such a beastly face.
Mary: The Lord tests us all, dear.
George: What did we do to deserve such a death as Harold? Perhaps he should have been stillborn. He was weak at birth. Perhaps he was supposed to be stillborn.
Mary: I did wonder that myself, dear.
(Harold had heard enough. Tears were running down his face, from his brown eyes. He then saw Barnaby standing in his bedroom doorway, clutching his favourite bible as always, his blue eyes shining even in the darkness. Harold wanted to run away and he did so, blindly, his vision obscured by tears, he went to run down the stairs, but he slid on another of Barnaby's bibles which was lying on the top step and fell. He landed right on the top of his head with a sickening thud. George and Mary ran out. Barnaby walked after them, calm, detached.)
George: Barnaby!?
Mary: No, he's fine, dear.
George: Oh thank the Lord!
Mary: Harold looks badly hurt, dear.
George: Don't look Barnaby...your pure eyes should not look on such ruin.
Mary: He's still breathing, dear.
George: Oh...oh! Great!
Mary: Yes dear.
SIX MONTHS LATER
(They are having dinner. Harold is paralysed from the waist down and sitting in his wheelchair at the table. Barnaby reaches for the salt but can't reach.)
Barnaby: Daddy I can't reach the salt!
George: Help your brother, Harold.
Harold: I can't reach in my chair.
George: YOU CAN IF YOU TRY.
Mary: He's useless, dear. Utterly useless.
THE END
