By C. van D.

Scene 1. A room in the St Cross State Orphanage for Boys, Midshire County.

(This is a bare, rather gloomy room, with a bare board floor. The dark-green paint is many years old. Round the walls, a trestle table and a row of wooden chairs are the only furniture.

The room is occupied by about twenty boys aged between 10 and 12. They are dressed in a variety of casual wear, jeans and trainers predominating. All have their names shown on handwritten badges pinned to their clothes.

The boys have been there for an hour already and are wondering what is to happen next. They are beginning to break up into small groups and chat, for some way of distraction. The camera focusses on one pair.

First boy (age about 11, pale face, straight brown hair, rather untidy. Reads second boy’s lapel badge). Glenn Forster. Where from, Glenn?

Second boy. Bristol. And, you are (reads other boy’s badge) Brett Langley. Where you from, Brett?

Brett. Nottingham. Why did they bring you here, Glenn?

Glenn. I used to live with my granny, but she went doolally and had to go into a home. So……

(This conversation is interrupted as a door in the corner opens and a woman with a commanding voice appears. She claps her hands twice, for silence.)

Voice. Quiet, you boys! Quiet, I say – quiet! (There is silence).

(The camera focuses on the woman. She is the Resident Matron, aged about 45. She is traditionally dressed in a dark-blue overall dress with lapel watch and badges, and a nurse’s starched cap. Her dark hair is greying. Though used to being obeyed, she has a kind face).

Matron. Now listen to me, everybody. I shall be calling you into this room, one at a time, for an inoculation. I want you all to take off your jeans and leave them neatly on that table over there (pointing). You won’t be seeing them again, so take everything out of your pockets. What’s that? No, keep your underpants on – I said on! Hurry up now, please – I shall call for the first boy in just a few minutes. (She goes back in).

(The boys start taking their jeans off. Some have boxer-shorts on underneath and some Y-fronts).

Glenn. Wonder what we’ll be getting to wear instead of jeans? And what’s this about an inoculation?

Brett. Dunno!

(Matron reappears)

Matron. Peter Pell!

(Peter Pell comes forward. He is no more than ten, with a mop of fair curly hair).

Matron. Hurry up, Peter.

(Peter Pell goes into the next room. The boys nearest the door try to eavesdrop on what may be going on inside. They hear “Drop your pants” then seconds later “Ouch!”)

Matron. Liam Norris! (Another boy goes in. Peter Pell emerges, pulling up his pants. He looks a bit sheepish).

Peter Pell. Had a needle in the top of me leg!

Glenn (to Brett) Funny place for an inoculation!

Brett. Suppose they know best.

Matron. Michael Parker! (A third boy goes in)

Fade out.

Scene 2: Matron’s room, a short time before.

(There are three women in the room. Besides Matron whom we’ve just met, there are (I) Nurse Yvonne Smith who is in her mid-twenties, bubbly, with curly ginger hair, and Nurse Mary Waterston. Nurse Mary is about 38, dark-haired and serious.

Matron. Well, here we all are again! Don’t these admission days come round quickly!

Nurse Y. They can’t come round quickly enough for me – I just love them!

Nurse M. That’s because you enjoy neutering little boys before they’ve had a chance to have sex.

Nurse Y. They grab those chances quickly enough. Did you read about that little tow-rag in Northshire County? The rape case?

Matron. You mean the six-year-old? Yes, I did. You wouldn’t believe it possible, would you – I mean, SIX, and able to get it in?

Nurse Y. Still, there was no doubt about it. The girl’s knickers were a mass of blood, and her Mom knew she hadn’t started her periods. A pity we couldn’t have “done” the boy then and there.

Nurse M. (gloomily) Outside our patch unfortunately, and Northshire doesn’t go in for neutering.

Matron. Oh well. We’ll just have to make the most of it while we can. And tomorrow it’s back to my “regularity” reports. You wouldn’t believe the number of soap-and-water enemas I have to give during the week, just to be able to report that all the boys have used the bathroom.

Nurse Y. Oh yes I would! Except that on the children’s ward there isn’t time for enemas, so I just use soap – ordinary household soap. That’s my Sunday evening chore, cutting up bars of soap into sticks, about the same size as my finger.

Matron. And how do you go on from there?

Nurse Y. I tell all the children to lie on their sides with their knees drawn up and then I go round the ward with my sticks of soap and a jar of gel, and pop the sticks of soap up the kids’ behinds. I wear rubber gloves of course, so’s I can push them well in.

Matron. Is that effective, just having soap pushed up their behinds?

Nurse Y (laughing) You’d be surprised! Once the soap begins to soften, it irritates so much that there’s a rush for the toilets.

Matron. Do you operate a mixed ward – boys and girls together?

Nurse M. Oh yes. There’s no problem these days with so many of the boys having been neutered. Do you know, one week last month, out of twenty-five boys on the ward, there was only one who hadn’t been neutered? You could see his embarrassment, being the only one to have balls.

Matron (looks at her watch) Well, we’d better not stay here talking. There’s about three hours’ work ahead of us. Mary, will you use Room 8 as usual, and Yvonne, you can stay in here. Right, I’ll get them started.

(She flings open the door into the boys’ waiting room, which is where we came in).

Scene 3. Nurse Mary Waterston’s treatment room.

(Nurse Mary is standing in front of her desk. On one corner is a box of candies, open. Behind her is a tray of hypodermics. High on the wall behind her is a TV monitor, presently switched off).

Nurse M. (muttering to herself) Okay, I’d better make a start. (in a louder voice) First boy!

(The door opens and Brett comes in, nervously. He is still dressed in his T-shirt and underpants).

Nurse M. Hello, young man! What’s your name?

Brett. Brett.

Nurse M. That’s a nice name! Now, Brett, there’s nothing at all to worry about. Nurse Yvonne has given you your inoculation and all I need to do is to give you a little examination. Just come a bit closer. (Brett edges nearer) Now, don’t be afraid - just drop your pants. (Brett pulls his Y-fronts down to his ankles. The camera zooms in on his genitals which are of average size for an intact boy of his age, smooth and hairless. He is uncircumcised and does not have an erection).

Nurse M. Now, Brett, don’t take any notice of me or what I’m doing. I’m going to turn on that screen up there. (She presses a switch and the screen lights up). What do you see on the screen?

Brett. A lot of cars going round a racetrack.

Nurse M. Good! Just keep watching the screen, Brett. Some of the cars are red, some white, and just a few green. I want you to count all the green cars you see. Count them carefully. I shall ask you how many there were. Alright? (Brett nods his head). Right, you can start counting.

Brett. One…..

(Very carefully Nurse Mary takes Brett’s scrotum, pulling it gently downwards to stretch the skin over the two testicles. Brett gives no indication that he can feel anything. Reaching behind her, Nurse Mary selects a hypodermic from the tray.)

Brett. Two…

Nurse M. Just keep counting. Look at the screen!

(The camera focuses on Brett’s scrotum. The point of the hypodermic is touching his left testicle. Very gently Nurse Mary eases it in, and very slowly depresses the plunger, injecting Neutersol into the testicle.)

Brett. Three – no, four. There were two close together.

Nurse M. Just keep counting, dear.

(Nurse Mary repeats the process, injecting Neutersol into Brett’s right testicle).

Nurse M. Right, all finished! How many green cars were there?

Brett. Six.

Nurse M. Correct! You’ve been a very, very good, brave boy! (She takes Brett in her arms and gives him a hug and a kiss. Brett looks a little surprised.

Nurse M. Pull your pants up, take a candy, and go through to the next room. I think they are getting up a football game for all you new arrivals. Someone will fit you up with some sports kit.

(Brett goes out. The drug will destroy his testicles and make him a boy-eunuch, but he doesn’t know that yet).

Nurse M. Next boy, please!

Fade out.

Scene 4. Matron’s room, three weeks later.

(Matron is sitting at her table, making notes in her diary. There is a knock on the door.)

Matron. Come in!

(Brett enters. He is wearing the smart, but conspicuous, St Cross uniform: royal blue fleece with the St Cross logo across the front, mercerised cotton shorts cut rather wide in the leg, white ankle-socks and trainers. He looks nervous.)

Matron. Ah, there you are, Brett. Do you know why I sent for you?

Brett. No, Matron.

Matron. Oh but I think you do, Brett. What is the rule about using the bathroom?

Brett. I’m supposed to put a tick against my name in the book, whenever I go to the bathroom.

Matron. Quite correct. And how many ticks did I find against your name, last week? I’ll tell you. None! So I’m going to give you a lovely enema.

Brett. Oh but Matron…….

Matron. Don’t be silly, Brett. You know the rule; you told me yourself. And the rule is there for a good reason- to keep you nice and regular. If you go a whole week without using the bathroom, your tummy will get all upset and you may have to go to the clinic and have some very nasty medicine. Now, no more arguments – over here, and drop your pants.

(Brett crosses to Matron’s desk, and blushing furiously, pulls his shorts down to his ankles. The camera zooms in on Brett’s “privates”. The injection has been effective and Brett is a boy-eunuch. A tiny fold of skin is all that remains of his scrotum. His penis, barely an inch long, hangs limp).

Matron. Now, just step out of those shorts, bend over the back of this chair and take hold of the seat. Don’t let go till I tell you.

(Brett does as he is told. Matron dons surgical gloves, dips a forefinger in a tub of gel and works it around Brett’s anus. Then taking the enema-syringe from its box, she pokes the syringe into the boy’s behind and pumps soap-and-water into his bowels).

Matron (who has just finished giving Brett his enema) There, all done! That wasn’t too bad, was it? (She pulls the syringe out of the boy’s bottom and drops it into the sterilizer). Now I want you to count up to ten, very slowly, and then go to the bathroom, which is over there (she points).

(Brett does as he is told, but his face shows the effort of holding the enema in).

Matron. Alright dear, that’s long enough! Off to the bathroom – quick!

(Brett makes a dash for the bathroom. We hear the door slam. Some moments later there is a sound of flushing. Brett comes back into the room, looking more relaxed.

Matron. There, that’s better, isn’t it? (Brett nods). Now, let’s have a good look at how you’re doing. (She subjects his genitals to a close examination and makes notes in her book).

Brett. Please, Matron, can I ask you something?

Matron. Of course, dear! What’s on your mind?

Brett. It’s…..it’s difficult to explain. You’re sure you don’t mind? It’s about my – my privates. (He is blushing again).

Matron. I think I understand. You’ve noticed some changes ‘down there’?

Brett. Yes. I can’t find my…my…you know! I think they must have gone up inside me and got stuck.

Matron. I see. That’s what you think, is it?

Brett. Yes, Matron – and there’s more. (He breaks off, tongue-tied).

Matron. No need to be shy! I’m a nurse! I know how little boys are made.

Brett. It’s this (indicates his penis). It’s gone so small! I can hardly get it out when I want to wee.

Matron. And I expect, sometimes, before you came here, it used to go hard – hard and hot? (Brett nods)

Matron. And when it was hard, you liked to rub it? And perhaps think about girls?

Brett. Yes, I did. How do you know?

Matron. Brett, all boys like to think about girls and rub their penises when they grow stiff. But now you’ve noticed some changes?

Brett. Yes. It never goes hard now.

Matron. (nodding). So your best friend hasn’t told you yet? Usually, boys find out for themselves.

Brett. No, Matron. No one has said anything.

Matron. Why, you poor little boy! No wonder you’ve been worried and anxious. Well, I’ll tell you. Come over here. (She slips an arm round Brett’s waist – his lower half is still nude – and draws him towards her).

Matron. Now, you remember what you told me when we began discussing your problem?

Brett. Yes. I said I couldn’t find my balls – oh! (breaks off in confusion, realising he’s made a faux pas in saying ‘balls’)

Matron. It’s quite alright, you funny boy! (She gives Brett a quick kiss on his cheek). Everyone speaks of boys’ balls, even nurses. So you can’t find them? Well, I’ll let you in on something. Every boy in this Home is exactly the same. And that is because you have all been neutered.

Brett. Neutered – what’s that?

Matron. Some people say “castrated” or “emasculated” but it all means the same thing, Brett. You had a little process on the day you arrived here, and as a result, you no longer have balls.

Brett. I don’t understand! I had a procedure? When?

Matron. Think back to the afternoon you arrived. What happened then?

Brett (frowning) I remember waiting a long time, and then you came out and told us to take our jeans off, and I waited some more, and then I had to see a ginger-haired nurse and she gave me an inoculation in the top of my leg. That hurt! And…..and…

Matron. Think carefully. What happened next?

Brett. I remember! I saw another nurse. She was nice! She gave me a candy! And then I went and played five-a-side, and then….

Matron. What else did this other nurse do?

Brett. Nothing, really. She made me take my pants down so she could examine me, and while she was doing that I watched a vid of motor racing. And then she gave me a candy and…..

Matron. That’s when you had your little procedure.

Brett. But how can I have had? The nurse didn’t do anything.

Matron You mean you didn’t feel her doing anything. That was because the first needle – the one in the top of your leg – was a local anaesthetic. Then the nurse was able to give you two more – one on each side – without you noticing. She has been trained to do that.

Brett. Oh…

Matron. And aren’t you a lucky little boy, that doctors have discovered a method of injecting a drug into a boy’s balls which makes them soften and disappear, with no pain at all, so that you didn’t even know it was being done. Before, it was quite a nasty little operation and a boy might have to stay in bed for a week and take it easy for another week till he was properly healed.

Brett (doubtfully) Why did I have to lose my balls, Matron?

Matron. So that you won’t be a nuisance with girls. There is a girls’ school further down the road, as you may have noticed.

Brett. Yes, they often get on our school bus. Some of them make sure we see their knickers, when they go on the top deck.

Matron. That’s very bad of them. I’ll have to speak to their teacher. It’s very unfair of girls to show their knickers and to tease neutered boys.

Brett. So, Matron, if……

Matron (interrupting). Think of yourself like a young horse, after being gelded – that’s the word that horsey people use instead of “castrated”. All young male horses get to have their balls cut out, to keep them well-behaved when there are mares and fillies around. So when you go to foster-parents, as I’m sure you will before long, they’ll know they are taking on a sweet-tempered little boy who will work hard in class and never do naughty things. And you’ll grow into a strong healthy boy, who will do all the things that boys do, except…

Brett. Except have sex?

Matron. Quite right. You will never, ever, be able to “do it” with a girl and get her

pregnant.

Brett. Not ever? Gosh!

(There is a pause, while Brett gets his head round all this – that he is no longer entirely a boy. Matron fondles his bare behind, then very gently takes Brett’s penis between finger and thumb and rolls his foreskin back and forth a few times.)

Matron. Now you were worried about this, weren’t you? That it had gone so small? Well, it’s just Mother Nature taking over. If you are never going to have sex, you don’t need a long penis. So your penis retracts into your body, leaving you just enough to pee through, but not enough to put inside a girl. (Brett starts) What’s the matter, dear?

Brett. You’re making me want to wee!

Matron (holds out an enamel chamber-pot) That’s alright, dear. Just wet into this.(Brett aims his tiny penis with some difficulty and manages a little spurt and a few yellow drops).

Matron. H’m, you have a problem, Brett, as I can tell. Now I’ll let you in on another secret. Most boys, after they’ve been neutered, find it easier, and nicer, to wee sitting down. If you asked around, I’m sure you would find it was true.

Brett. Sitting down – like a girl does it, you mean?

Matron. Just like that! Nothing wrong in that, now, is there!

Brett. N-no, I suppose not.

Matron. Well then! That’s alright! (She gives Brett another kiss). Pull your shorts up and go and have a nice game of five-a-side. Try not to think about things too much. In quite a short time you’ll be used to your new life, and forget you ever had balls. Off you go now!

(Brett pulls up his shorts and goes out. The camera follows Matron to the window from where she can see Brett join his friends. In her mind’s eye she follows them to the locker-room where they strip for games. All are boy-eunuchs with tiny penises and no balls or scrotum).

Matron (to herself) I wonder!

Fade out.

FINIS