foreigner hereâwell, you know. Also, since your parents didnât object, and I always told them later what I did, I felt I had their approval. Am I wrong, Mrs. T.?â
âYou had it. Iâm not going to deny it now. Not for putting filth in their facesâthis is the first I can remember hearing of thatâbut as Howard said, itâs past, finished. But no matter what happened, all my boys couldnât have turned out better.â
âDid anything like that ever happen in my face?â he asks Frieda. âIn the bathtub? Anyplace?â
âNo, you? You were toilet-trained earlier than the others, so it never got necessary. A year earlier than either of them. By the age of eighteen months, if Iâm not wrong. Two years at the most, and thatâs for both things. You probably had the advantage of seeing them go to the potty on their own, and maybe even scolded or punished for doing it in their pants. So you followed them, did what they did or were supposed toâgoing to the toilet.â
âThatâs the way it usually is,â his mother says.
âHe was ahead of the other two in many ways like that. Reading. Writing. Manners at the table. It could be just the reverse with the youngest, but wasnât with him. Dressing himself. Almost everything. Remember how you let him eat at the adult table, rather than here in the kitchen with me, two years before you let the other two?â
âMaybe because he was the last, and to give you a break from it finally, we let him join our table.â
âNo, I remember. Because he ate. Because he didnât drop things on the floor or talk loudly and interrupt at the table. He was a dream child. Active and a bit of a rascal at times, yes, but thatâs not so bad if itâs not too often. But sweet, good-natured, helpful most timesâa real young gentleman with a much older head than his age. If I had had children, boys or girls, I would have wanted them to be the way you were more than like your brothers. They were good, but you were almost perfect to bring up. You listened and watched. And what I did to Alex in the tub was the only time I think I ever did anything like that. I canât really remember it happening another time, before or after.â
âI donât remember being toilet-trained so early. Well, of course I wouldnât, but itâs interesting to know.â
âHe was a dream child,â his mother says. âYou never said it before, but I always knew you had a special place for Howard over the others.â
âI did, but not by much, you understand. They were all wonderful. I felt very lucky with the family I ended up in. But maybe Howard was just a little more wonderful. A little.â She smiles at him, reaches out to touch his cheek and then kisses it. He hugs her.
On the subway ride home he tries to remember the incident again. First of all, it happened. He knows it did or is almost a hundred percent sure. He runs to his father. First he walks bowlegged to Frieda, points to his crotch. She knows what it is, takes his hand and pulls him into the bathroom. She takes down his pants. His shoesâshe takes them off, socks with them. Then she takes off the underpants carefully so the shit stays in them. She says âThis will teach you never to do it in your pants again.â Thatâs new, but he thinks he just imagined she said it. Her face is angry. It was probably a thick shit, not messy. She puts it into his face. He criesâscreamsâand she picks him up and holds him in front of the mirror. He sees his face with the shit on most of it. Just then he hears his father. âHello, anyone around?â Something like that. He squirms to get down, is let down, runs to him. She says âGo on, show him, and donât forget to tell him what you did.â Thatâs also new, but he really seems to remember it. His fatherâs coming into the kitchen from the