“See? It’s easy!” cries Reggie, touching his privates against the bark of a hundred year old sycamore.
“That may be part of the problem,” replies Edward, backing away. “It’s not just the hard stuff, Reg. Some of the easy stuff just isn’t worth doin’ either.”
He’s nearly to the fence when Reggie calls to him again.
“I value different things than you, Edward! Touch is the important sense to me — it’s like my seeing!”
Edward shakes his head. His hand rests on the gate, ready to swing. He hesitates like he can’t decide whether he should say something or if just thinking it is enough.
“Kids climb on those things,” he says without turning. “They climb all up and down them.”
Reggie bites his lip. Still pressed against the tree, he thinks to himself, “You bastard.”
Then Edward says the same and shuts the gate behind him.