Little Children

Want to take a walk with me?

...continue to protest the presence of a convicted sex offender

in their neighborhood. Michelle Betler reports.

Thanks, Rick. I'm standing here on Woodward Court,

the quiet residential street

that has become the focus of controversy

ever since 48-year-old Ronald James McGorvey returned here

after serving a two-year prison sentence

for indecent exposure to a minor.

In the past few days an organization

known as the Committee of Concerned Parents

began distributing these notices throughout the community

warning neighbors of what they call a quote,

"Dangerous predator in our midst."

I don't really like having him that close to my family.

I think it's outrageous. This block has too many children

for a sex offender to, uh, be moving in the neighborhood.

I-- I don't think it's a good idea.

Makes me very nervous. Makes me a little enraged.

Um, I'd have a problem if I see him on the street.

It's like having an alcoholic work in a bar.

They don't mix. They shouldn't be together.

The conditions of his parole expressly forbid McGorvey

to be within 100 yards of any playground,

school or recreation area where children normally gather.

These conditions seem to be of little comfort

to the many parents whose children play and go to school

in this formerly tranquil community,

and who in the coming days and weeks will be hoping for the best

but preparing for the worst. Rick, back to you.

My husband and I had an actual spiritual experience.

We did this intense spa treatment--

- Oh, come on. - No, listen to me.

It was on our vacation in Cabo and there were eight other couples

and this Mayan woman.

A goddess, just a goddess.

- She had-- - She's due in September.

She thinks she's gonna take three months off,

then it's Christmas, then she'll be back to work the first of the year.

Please.

Six months from now she'll be right here on this bench with us.

My friend Beth said that the way she did it

was to just take him with her every time she went to the bathroom.

- I find that strange. - Yeah, that's what I said to Beth.

It's Oedipal.

What's the rush?

Although I will say, when I was trying to potty-train Christian,

I opened the diaper and it was huge!

Like a grown man.

Smiling politely to mask a familiar feeling of desperation

Sarah reminded herself to think like an anthropologist.

She was a researcher studying the behavior of typical suburban women.

They weren't organic?

She was not a typical suburban woman herself.

Troy, stop that!

Paul and I were having sex the other night

and I drifted off right in the middle of it.

It happens.

Yeah, I guess. But when I woke up and apologized

he said he hadn't even noticed.

You know what you should do?

Set aside a specific block of time for it.

That's what Louis and I do-- every Tuesday night at 9:00.

"Whether you want to or not" Sarah thought,

her eyes straying over to the play area.

Even at such a tiny playground as this

Lucy didn't interact much with the other children.

Sarah didn't really know why they even bothered coming here,

except that she'd probably go crazy

trapped in the house all day

with this unknowable little person.

Morning snack time was 10:30 on the dot...

Snack time!

...a regimen established and maintained by Mary Ann,

who believed that rigid adherence to a timetable

was not only the key to a healthy marriage,

but to effective parenting as well.

- I'll take this one! - I want that one!

- Can I do it? - Yeah. Ready?

Mommy...

where's my snack?

I'm sorry, honey, Mommy can't find it.

- I forgot the rice cakes. - Poor thing.

- I'm sure it's in here somewhere. - Second time this week.

Well, who's going to keep track of everything?

- Bad mommy. Bad mommy. - Just calm down, please.

No calm down! I want my snack!

All right, you know what? It's--

it's just not here, okay? See for yourself.

Wait!

Troy, honey, give Lucy your goldfish.

No!

Troy Jonathan, give me those goldfish!

But, Mama, they're mine.

No back talk. You can share with your sister.

Troy has goldfish for you. Go sit down.

That's much more than 10.

- That's great. - Look how big I made my lawn.

Thank you, Mary Ann, you're a life saver.

It's nothing. I just hate to see her suffer like that.

Maybe you should make a checklist and tape it to the door

so it's the last thing you see before leaving the house.

That's what I do.

Yeah, thank you. That's-- that's a really helpful suggestion.

You're welcome.

Drink your juice.

Are you the plane again?

Look.

Now you have to act like me.

The prom king.

Oh my God, he's back.

Sarah followed the other women's gazes

over to the entrance of the playground,

eager to finally get a glimpse of the prom king,

the handsome and mysterious young father

who had been a regular at the Walker Street playground

for several weeks this past spring

before abruptly dropping out of sight.

I don't need a rest. I need an airplane ride.

His departure had left a gaping hole in the emotional lives

of Cheryl, Theresa and Mary Ann.

Barely a day went by without one of them speculating wistfully

about the reason for his absence and the likelihood of his return.

Here I come. There's no room for two of us, diesel.

You've done it again.

I hate steam engines.

When I come back I will pinch you with my pinchers.

Yeah? Well, when I come back

I'm gonna ram you with my rammer.

- Ready? - No, you won't.

Every time you win, diesel!

I know.

- Hello! - Mommy's home.

The jester's cap was something that truly disturbed Brad.

All day long the boy ate, played and napped in it.

But the moment his mother stepped in the house he had no more use for it.

As if the entire day up to that point

had been a pointless and somewhat useless charade.

You got some sun today, didn't you?

Did Daddy forget the sunscreen again?

What are you doing?

That's his full name. What's your favorite thing about him?

Um...

I like to come over to his house.

Hmm.

I think I'm gonna finally break down and get a cellphone.

- Really? - Mmm.

Why?

I have no way of reaching you when I'm out with Aaron.

You're done, right?

You've got one.

Don't you think it's strange that I don't?

Yeah, I do. You just never wanted one before.

Yeah, I know.

There's a family plan. We can talk for free.

Okay.

Let's just see where we are at the end of the month.

Yeah?

Are your hands okay?

As was her custom each week night after dinner,

the boy's mother sent Brad down to the municipal library

to study for the bar exam.

But he never quite made it through the door of the building.

Brad had been watching the skateboarders for weeks now,

sometimes for as long as an hour at a stretch.

But he never received the slightest acknowledgement from any of them.

He'd been the same age as these boys when his mother died.

- You do that! - No way!

- Nice. - 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?