Boys

The boys are expressing themselves through their bodies. They are making themselves known via a series of sudden motions, some fluid, most of them jerky, awkward, startling. They want you to react. The boys would like to be praised for the movements they have performed. To that end, they have composed sample comments and written them on three-by-five-inch note cards, in their execrable handwriting, and they pass these out to the girls and adults. Some of the cards read:

I am very impressed by your poking.

Your jumping out from behind that tree was excellent.

We love you very much. Thank you for convulsing in the grass.

Your spasms have improved my day.

Everything about your clapping is delightful.

The boys have something that they want to show you. They take you by the hand and lead you somewhere—an open field, a beach, a playground, a parking lot. When you reach the destination, there’s nothing to see. The boys have become distracted, or wandered off. It is possible that they just wanted to relocate you. You were aware that this might happen, but of course you went anyway, the boys’ enthusiasm is so infectious. You pretend to yourself that your new placement is actually kind of interesting. That the boys had it in mind all along that what you really needed was a change of scenery. Don’t ask them if that’s what they intended, though. They’re onto other things now.

For instance, they are disrobing! The boys want to be naked. They laugh uproariously at one another’s behinds and penises. You quietly encourage them to put their clothes back on, the pants at least, but instead they cover things with urine: a tree stump, some ants, a chain-link fence.

It’s not clear whom these boys belong to. There are lots of adults around, but none claim ownership. The girls are off somewhere on their own. The boys make you uncomfortable—not just their nakedness. Their demeanor, indeed their very existence, seems to impugn your moral authority, your sense of self. You don’t wish to meet the gazes of the other adults. You are ashamed.

But the boys—the boys are enraptured by their own corporeality. They are horribly alive.