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?
Swing time!
What's he do for a living?
We've never actually spoken to him.
Really?
We don't even know his name.
I thought you guys said he was a regular here.
- It was awkward. - He made us nervous.
You had to think about what you were gonna wear in the morning.
You know, put on makeup. It was exhausting.
Mommy, push me!
Okay. I'll be right there.
Wait!
Five bucks if you get his phone number.
How old is she?
Lucy,
tell the nice boy how old you are.
I'm three.
My grandma lives in New Jersey.
She doesn't have a swim pool.
Do you like to swim?
I don't like sharks. They eat you up.
Don't listen to him.
We go to the town pool almost every day.
- I'm Brad, by the way. - Sarah.
You guys come here a lot?
No, just the last few weeks.
I usually go to the one over on Harris,
with the big wood things, you know, and the slide across.
Yeah, we actually rent a house right around the corner
from there on Ashforth.
That ice cream truck never leaves. Such a nightmare.
Yeah, tell me about it.
You know, you're the first person here who's ever talked to me.
You make 'em nervous.
Oh, right.
I guess they don't see too many fathers here during the weekdays.
You don't have to be polite. Go ahead and ask.
What?
You know, what the person who wears the pants in the family does for a living.
Oh. All right, what does your wife do?
- She makes documentaries. - Oh, wow.
- Like Michael Moore? - Uh, like PBS.
Oh.
Well, I think it's admirable you're here.
There's no reason fathers can't be primary caregivers.
I finished law school two years ago,
but I can't seem to pass the bar exam. Failed it twice now.
Maybe you just don't want to be a lawyer.
I'll take the test one more time.
If I mess up now
I'll just have to find something else to do with my life.
- Right, buddy? - Right.
Sarah was shocked by how Brad delivered this confession,
with no apparent sense of being in the least bit embarrassed by his failure.
Most men weren't like this.
Her husband Richard certainly wasn't.
She wondered if Brad was always this forthcoming.
If anything, he seemed a little lonely,
all too ready to open his heart at the slightest sign of interest,
like a lot of young mothers she knew.
I couldn't help noticing your stroller.
Do you have another child?
No, just Aaron. Got that at a yard sale.
Extra seat comes in handy for the bear, though.
Lucy refuses to go in a stroller or a car seat.
We have to walk everywhere. It takes us half an hour to go three blocks,
unless I carry her.
- Daddy, I'm finished. - Are you sure? We just got here.
I'm finished right now.
Okay. All right, here we go.
Ready? One, two, three.
- Oops. - Oh, hold on for a second.
- There, thank you. - Are you okay?
No problem.
It was then while watching Brad kneel down at his son's feet
that Sarah found herself gripped by an unexpected pang of sadness.
"Don't go," she thought.
"Don't leave me here with the others."
- It was nice talking to you. - Same here.
Wait! Um...
Come here. Just...
come here.
You see those women over there?
Just, yeah, don't-- don't look.
You know what they call you?
What?
The prom king.
Oh God, really?
Yeah, they mean it as a compliment.
You're a big character in their fantasy lives.
Wow.
Um, so one of them bet me $5 I couldn't get your phone number.
Five bucks, huh?
Yeah.
Could we split it 50-50?
It could be arranged.
It doesn't have to be your real number.
Oh, well, you know, in that case, sure. You got a pen?
Great. Oh shit, no I-- um, no I don't.
- Uh... - Well...
No wait, just-- wait.
You know what'd really be funny?
If you gave me a hug.
- You think? - Yeah.
- All right, come here.
Oh my God.
Do you want to really freak them out?
Yeah.
Who's gonna talk in there?
- Oh my God! - Troy!
- Lucy! - Isabelle!
Isabelle! Come here, Isabelle. Okay, we have to go.
- Isabelle! - Troy!
- I think that worked. - Yeah, I think so.
- Um, well, it was nice meeting you. - Yeah.
It's okay, yeah. We're gonna go.
- It's all right. - Lucy?
We're gonna go home.
Okay, here we go, good girl.
Good girl.
I'm sure your daughter found that very educational.
His name is Brad. He's a lawyer
and he's really very nice.
For the past few days Sarah hadn't been able
to concentrate on anything but the prom king
and the curious thing that had happened
between them on the playground.
She didn't feel shame or guilt,
only a sense of profound disorientation,
as if she had been kidnapped by aliens
then released unharmed a few hours later.
As he had so often in recent days,
Brad mentally reenacted the kiss by the swing set.
He still couldn't believe it had really happened.
And with all those women and children watching.
Troy! Troy!
Aaron had been particularly curious about what he'd seen.
Why you hugging that lady?
Well, that's what I'm trying to show you with Bozo.
Sometimes it's a game that adults play to show that they're friends.
You say, "Hi, I'm your friend."
Aaron was skeptical.
They returned to the playground the following morning,
but no one was there.
Sarah hadn't shown up at the town pool either,
though Brad remembered telling her that he and Aaron
could be found there most afternoons.
It didn't seem to matter that Sarah wasn't his type,
wasn't even that pretty-- at least not compared to Kathy,
who had long legs and lustrous hair
and perfect breasts.
Sarah was short, boyish,
and had eyebrows that were thicker than Brad thought necessary.
But even so, she'd walked into his arms that day
as if she were fulfilling a secret wish
he hadn't remembered making.
Hey, pervert!
Yeah, you, you pervert!
You like little boys, do you?
- Larry? - Yes, it's fucking Larry!
Jesus, man, don't even joke about that.
What are you doing? Are you busy?
Uh, actually I'm supposed to be studying.
Taking the bar exam next month.
I thought you did that last year.
Yeah. See how well I did?
I got a better idea. Get in.
Come on. Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on.
Do you mind holding these? Try to keep them nice.
Oh, uh...
are you, uh, part of the committee?
I am the committee.
Wow.
That's-- that's quite a commitment.
Yeah.
Aren't you full time on the force already?
Yeah, I'm-- I'm taking a little time off.
You know what they should do to this bastard?
Just castrate him. You know, pfft!
Get it over with, right?
Yeah.
You look good.
You've been, uh, working out?
Uh, just push-ups, crunches...
a little light running.
The guys are gonna love this.
What guys?
Wow, this is something.
Yeah, it's pretty, but doesn't have a lot of give.
It's like playing on cement.
Hey, hold on a second.
Duane, I've really gotta talk to you about the committee.
I mean, it would mean a lot to have your support on this thing.
I told you already, Larry, none of us are gonna get involved in that shit.
We're here to play ball. If that's your thing, fine, but leave us out of it.
Okay okay, fine. I get it, I get it, I get it. Guys!
Bring it in!
Come on, come on, hustle up!
I want you all to meet our new quarterback.
- Quarterback? - Guy better not be a pussy.
He played in college.
Uh, I'm a little behind the curve.
Who are you guys?
- We're the Guardians! - We're cops.
Welcome to the Tri-County touch football night league.
Let's just work on some simple pass patterns.
Brad waited for his good sense to kick in.
There were lots of excuses available to him.
But it felt so good to be standing here beneath the bright lights.
And he was filled with a feeling similar to the one
he'd had right before kissing Sarah,
like his world had cracked open
to reveal a thrilling new possibility.
Okay, just let me warm up a little.
All right! Let's go!
Set, hut!
What the fuck?
That's a late hit!
This ain't Pop Warner, ace.
You fucking faggot. You call yourself a quarterback?
Oh, this isn't me.
What are you doing?
What is that? What's that for?
I want the scumbag to know I'm keeping an eye on him.
Oh, shit. Oh, uh...
I don't think we want to be here, Larry.
It's not a question of want.
Joanie thinks I'm obsessed with this creep.
She thinks if I had a job, I wouldn't be driving past his house
five, six times a day. But you know what?
I kinda think this is my job.
There's a roll of duct tape in the glove compartment.
Would you grab it for me?
Honey?
Hi!
Where were you?
Oh my God. What happened?
I-- I-- I joined this group.
The Committee for Concerned Parents.
We're distributing flyers about that creep on Woodward Court.
These guys play a little touch football after.
This late?
Uh, it's a night league.
So it's gonna be a regular thing?
No no no no, just once a week,
after I'm done studying at the library.
Is that okay?
Uh, who are the guys?
You remember Larry Hedges?
The guy from the Sprinkler Park with the twins?
It's his organization.
I thought you didn't like him.
He's okay.
This committee makes a lot of sense. I mean it's--
it's pretty scary having a weirdo like that
living right by the playground.
Mmm. I know.
I hate to even think about it.
Guess you'd better take a shower.
Brad showered quickly, sensing a rare opportunity
to have sex with his wife.
"This is just what I need," he thought.
"Something to take my mind off that kiss."
Please don't.
Come on, Kathy, we've been through this before.
He needs to start sleeping by himself.
I know. He looks so comfy.
Well, he'll be just as comfy in his own bed.
I just miss him so much.
I'm getting a little tired waking up with his foot in my face.
It's a perfect foot.
Look at him. Just look at him.
He's a handsome devil.
Mmm, he's perfect.
Good night.
Number 2 Hillcrest
was an impressive piece of real estate.
Even so, Sarah was ambivalent
about the house she occupied.
She wasn't involved with its purchase or design.
The place was a hand-me-down of sorts from Richard's mother.
And the furnishings were leftovers from his first marriage.
By the time Sarah arrived here
Richard wasn't all that interested in redecorating.
And so she decided to leave it as it was,
with the exception of a single room that she staked out for her own
and gradually began to populate it
with the remnants of her former self.
From the moment Lucy was born
Sarah had refused to hire someone for child care.
Read me a story?
In a minute, okay?
- Can I sit on your lap? - I said in a minute!
Go finish your program, go.
She wasn't exactly sure why she had taken this stance.
The truth was she spent most afternoons marking time,
waiting desperately for the moment when her husband returned from work
and she could finally have a moment to herself.
But even this was not something she could rely on.
You're ready to roll?
Could you wait a few minutes?
I'm sorry, Richard's barricaded in the upstairs office
- finishing some stuff for work. - No problem.
I've got a little surprise for someone anyway.
She's a terror at night. I couldn't get her to nap again.
- Oh, the poor thing. - Poor mom is more like it.
Hello.
Is there a cute little girl in the house?
Oh, my goodness!
What--
what have I found?
- A beanie. - Oh, a beanie.
Jean, you didn't need to to that.
Oh, this little dog needed a girl to take care of him.
And I know a little girl who needed a dog.
Let me see.
Sarah was beginning to get angry.
Her evening fitness walk was the one thing
she looked forward to all day, and Richard knew this.
But if there was one thing life had taught Richard,
it was that it was ridiculous
to be at war with your own desires.
He could easily imagine what people would say if they could see him now--
Exactly the same thing they'd say if someone had told them
that Ray from next door was a transvestite,
or that Ted from work
had anonymous gay sex at highway rest stops.
"But we want what we want," Richard thought,
"and there's not much we can do about it."
He had stumbled on the site 11 months ago
while doing research for a consulting firm.
His office door was wide open.
But he clicked on the link anyway.
He was deeply engrossed in his discovery
when Ted knocked on his door.
I'm taking lunch orders. You want something?
Casually, but with great haste
Richard banished Slutty Kay from his screen...
Uh, yeah, I'll have a chicken Caesar.
...and reentered the flow of an ordinary day.
It wasn't until several months later
that Richard gave the slightest thought to the site he had stumbled upon.
Do you need me for anything else?
Uh, no no, you can head home.
I'm just gonna catch up on some e-mail.
Well, don't stay too late. Your dinner will get cold.
Lately Slutty Kay had become a problem.
He thought about her far too often,
and spent hours studying
the thousands of photographs available to him.
Some of Kay's practices struck him as bizarre,
even off-putting.
She had a thing about kitchen utensils,
spatulas, and dressing up like a little girl
and playing with balloons.
But who was Richard to judge?
Oh, that's it.
Though as close as Richard sometimes felt to Slutty Kay,
as much as he believed that he knew her,
he could never get past the uncomfortable fact
that she existed for him solely as a digital image.
The panties were an attempt to solve this problem.
Maybe a sniff or two would hurry things along,
so he could get back downstairs to his real life,
where his wife was waiting for him
her impatience increasing by the minute.
What are you doing?
Are you almost finished there? 'Cause I'd really like to go for my walk?
- You could have knocked. - I did!
We need to talk.
You're awfully quiet this evening.
- Everything okay? - What?
Yeah.
You'll have to walk without me tomorrow night.
I've got a book group meeting.
Okay.
You're sure everything's all right?
Yeah, sorry.
I guess I'm just a little tired.
So what are you reading?
"Crime and Punishment."
Wow. That's pretty highbrow for a book group.
Well, we have some very stimulating discussions.
You should come next month. We're doing "Madame Bovary."
You could be my little sister.
Little sister?
We're trying to get younger women involved.
We call them our little sisters.
I don't know, Jean.
I read "Madame Bovary" in grad school.
It's a pretty misogynist text.
Well, that's an interesting perspective.
- You should come. - Let me think about it.
Oh, would you excuse me, Jean?
Someone's at my door. I'll call you, okay?
Hi!
Wow, God,
this is a surprise.
I haven't seen you since--
I-- I hope you don't mind. Your husband said you'd be back any minute.
Oh, no, not at all.
It's good to see you.
God, um, can I get you some tea or something?
I can only stay a minute. I just came to warn you.
- You know that guy, the pervert? - Uh-huh.
He's been riding his bike near the playground
- checking out the kids. - Oh, God.
Oh, God, do the police know?
Nothing they can do. He's not breaking any laws.
I guess they're just waiting for him to kill someone.
I just thought you should know.
Thanks, that's nice of you.
Let me get you some tea.
I'm sorry. I-- I don't think it's a good idea.
I didn't mean to kiss him.
I don't even know how it happened.
I'd better go. Mike's gonna worry.
You wanna talk?
I'm tired.
Hello.
Hey.
No, he's still sleeping.
Yeah, I'm, uh, I'm going through it right now.
No, I guess I don't need them.
Okay.
All right, bye.
H-hi.
H-hello?
Yes, I'd like to place an order.
Pierce, Sarah, Mrs.
Um...
it's the red bathing suit on page 29.
The hide-your-tummy halter neck.
Uh, I'm size...
10, eight? I mean, I think.
E-eight.
You want to go in the pool?
You do?
One, two.
Daddy, can I go in the pool now?
In a minute, okay?
Okay.
There you go.
Mommy, I have to go pee-pee.
Just go in the pool.
Huh-uh, I want to go to the bathroom.
Really?
Okay, come on.
Okay, ready?
There.
Swing down.
Hey, I'm drumming it.
Oh.
Wow.
- It's you. - Yeah, hey.
- Hi! - Okay.
I hope you don't mind. Lucy has sensitive skin.
She's better off in the shade.
Oh no, not at all.
It's nice to see you again.
Yeah, you too.
I'm sorry, would you get my back?
Um... okay, sure.
Thanks.
Right.
# Who is knocking on the door? #
- Thanks a lot. - # Knocking on the door #
# Knocking on the door #
- # Who is knocking on the door? # - It's okay, just...
# A way, hey hey. #
Lucy, say hi to the little boy from the playground.
Hi.
You remember him?
The pool became a ritual.
I was trying to think. I just didn't know the way.
- Oh oh, okay. - I'm here, I'm here.
We have the creature and we have flower.
Right.
Day after day they sat together in the shade
getting to know each other.
This needs mustard.
- Mustard? - Yeah.
Having little choice in the matter,
Aaron and Lucy formed a fragile friendship.
Aw, that's perfect.
Sometimes Brad and Sarah traded offspring.
Mama said, "What Papa told you was right.
It's not a good idea to talk to strangers."
It was the most fun Sarah had had in years.
But there was always that longing to touch,
to be touched by Brad.
And, as badly as she wanted this,
she wanted just as badly to hold on to the innocent public life
they'd made for themselves out in the open.
So she accepted the trade--
the melancholy handshake at 4:00
in exchange for this little patch of grass,
some sunscreen and companionship.
One more happy day at the pool.
Okay, no pasta for dinner, okay?
We eat way too much pasta around here.
I thought you liked my pasta.
No, I do. That's the problem.
Pretty soon I can sell advertising space on my ass.
No, that's okay. I've got to go.
I've got a 9:00 at Taps.
I thought you were already editing.
Yeah, so did I. It was just--
there's something in this family's story that really got to me.
The father was...
K-I-L-L-E-D
in a, um, mortar attack,
and, um, left behind a little boy.
I was talking to the mother the other day on the phone,
and she was saying she didn't know what she was going to do next Christmas.
Jeez, I bet.
No, it wasn't like that. It was more...
she was wondering, should she keep this tradition with her son
that began with the boy's father.
And she was saying he had this knack
for requesting odd Christmas gifts--
scuba gear one year
and rappelling gear the next.
She said he wasn't afraid to try anything.
Trying new things made him feel...
more alive.
I've got to go. See you later.
Patch one of your best and then we'll patch both of them.
Okay?
Hey, I got something.
Hot enough for you?
Yeah.
Yeah, it's so humid.
I've got football practice tonight.
Be like playing in a sauna.
Watch out for that Italian guy.
What's his name?
Corrente?
Yeah.
Remember what happened to your knee last week?
You should be careful, Brad.
I'll be careful.
Promise?
Yeah. Yeah, I promise.
Weatherman said scattered showers.
I don't see scattered showers.
Mom, could I please have some money for a snack?
No, sweetheart. You guys just had a snack. No.
Oh, okay.
All they want is sugar.
Constantly.
Oh, no.
It's him.
Oh, Jesus.
Oh my God, it's him.
He's in the pool.
Oh my God!
Jacob, get out of the pool now!
Oh my God. That's him.
- Get away from that man. - Why is everybody running to the pool?
Brooke? Jake?
Dale, you'd better get over here.
Get out of the pool!
Where's your sister?
Why'd we have to get out, Mom?
I'm scared.
- What did he do? - What's going on?
I'm scared.
Um, why the police is here?
Um, there's a man--