on her, what are you going to tell your mother?’
Father took me by surprise on that one. I had indeed caught Audrey spooning… and I
had an uneasy suspicion that there had been something more than spooning – and it
worried me. ‘I won’t tell Mother anything!’
‘That’s a good answer. But what are you going to tell me? You know that I don’t have
your mother’s moralistic and puritanical attitudes about sex, and you know – I hope
you do – that I won’t use anything you tell me to punish Audrey but to help her. So
what do you-tell your father?’
I felt walls closing in on me, caught between loyalty to Father and my love for my
oldest sister, who had always helped me and been good to me. ‘I… I will… I won’t
tell you a durn thing!’
‘Hooraw! You took the hurdle without even ticking the top rail. Dead right, dear
one; we don’t tell tales out of school, we don’t confess on behalf of someone else.
But don’t say “durn”. If you need it, say “damn”.’
‘Yes, sir. I won’t tell you a damn thing about Audrey and her young man.’ (And, dear
Lord if there is one, don’t let my sister get pregnant; Mother would have fits and
pray over her and all would be terrible. Thy will be done… but not too much of it.
Maureen Johnson. Amen.)
‘Let’s deal with number ten quickly, then move on to the ones Moses neglected to
bring down the mountain. Ten doesn’t seem to be a problem to you. Coveted anything
lately?’
`I don’t think I have. Why is there a rule against coveting your neighbour’s wife
but not a word about not coveting your neighbour’s husband? Was it an oversight on
Jehovah’s part? Or was it truly open-season on husbands in those days?’
‘I don’t know, Maureen. T suspect that it was simply conceit on the part of some
ancient Hebrews who could not imagine their wives wanting to jump the fence when
they had such virile heroes at home. The Old Testament doesn’t place women very
high; it starts right out with Adam putting all the blame on Mother Eve… then it
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gets worse. But here in Lyle County, Missouri, we do have a rule against it… and
if any wife catches you making eyes at her husband here, she is likely to scratch
out your pretty green eyes.’
‘I don’t intend to let her catch me. But suppose it’s the other way. Suppose he
covets me, or seems to. Suppose he pinches my bottom?’
`Well, well! Who was he, Maureen? Who is he?’
‘Hypothetical case, mon cher père.’
`Very well. If he hypothetically does it again, you may hypothetically respond in
several hypothetical fashions. You may hypothetically ignore him, pretend to a
hypothetical lack of sensation in your gluteus maximus sinister – or is he
left-handed?’
`I don’t know:’
‘Or you can hypothetically whisper, “Don’t do that here. Meet me after church.” ‘
`Father!’
`You brought it up. Or, if it suits you, you may hypothetically warn him that one
more hypothetical pinch will be reported to your hypothetical father who owns both a
hypothetical horsewhip and a hypothetical shot-gun. You may say this most
privately-or shout it loudly enough for the congregation and his hypothetical wife
to hear it. Lady’s choice. Wait one moment. You did say “husband”, did you not?’
`I did not say. But that was assumed in the hypothesis, I suppose.’
‘Maureen, a pinch on the bottom is an expression of direct intent. Encouraged, it
leads in three short steps to copulation. You are young but you are physically a
mature woman capable of pregnancy. Is it your intention to assume full womanhood in
the immediate future?’
Chapter 3 – The Serpent in the Garden
Father’s question as to whether or not I was thinking about getting rid of my
virginity upset me because I had been thinking about nothing else for weeks. Months,
maybe. So I answered, ‘Of course not! Father, how could you think such a thing?’
‘Meeting’s adjourned.’
‘Sir?’
‘I thought we had cured you of that sort of trivial fibbing. I sec we have not, so