‘But many of the parents have asked—’
‘For this corruption? I can’t believe it and I won’t believe it. You can call me an old-fashioned grumpy cross-patch if you like, but someone has to stand up and protect the little ones. Why, this book has pictures of unborn babies — right inside the you-know-what!’
One of the younger teachers giggled nervously. A mistake. Mrs Dorano raised her voice. ‘Oh, you may snigger! The world is full of sniggerers, wicked grown-ups who laugh at innocence, who want to pull it down and soil it.’
‘Mrs Dorano.’ The principal removed her glasses. ‘I’m sure you have a point there. Why don’t you take it up at the next PTA meeting and—’
‘Oh I will, don’t worry.’ Mrs Dorano gave them all a motherly smile. ‘The PTA, certainly. And also the Newer Decency Society.’
Miss Borden turned away quickly. ‘How’s it going on the playground, Captain?’
‘Not much action. Few kids kicking around some kind of toy tank there or something. If that’s school equipment, I can promise them they’ll be sorry.’
‘Toy — My God, that’s the new pupil, the Wood boy! Where’s Ogilvy, why isn’t he out there stopping it?’ She rushed out, her head filled with printing-presses, a blur of headlines:
Threading the maze of corridors, she found Ogilvy by the door. He was kneeling, making a few adjustments to his shin-guards.
‘Some security guard!’ she shouted. ‘They’re beating the life out of a crippled kid out there. Let’s go!’
‘Can’t be everywhere at once,’ he whined behind her. ‘I was just looking at the busted lock on the A-V room.’
She stopped, half way out of the door. ‘What? Not again?’
‘Yup. Ripped off the stereo, TV camera, vidrecorder — the works.’
This was serious, a bad blow to the budget. For a moment, Miss Borden almost forgot where she was going.
Roderick learned one thing right away: he was different-looking. Up to now. he’d never thought much about his appearance. Ma and Pa and the other grown-ups didn’t seem to mind. But as soon as he appeared on the playground bigger kids started shoving him.
‘Hello,’ he said, hoping the shoves were accidental.
‘Get that,’ said a tall, red-haired boy with missing front teeth. ‘He talks! Hey you, freaky, what’s your name?’
‘Roderick. What’s yours?’
‘Roderick, what kinda name is that? Hahahaha it sounds like prick!’
The others doubled over at that one. The conversation turned to names, as, shove by shove, they backed Roderick against a wall. The tall boy, whom the others addressed as Chauncey, favoured the name ‘Freaky-prick’; others suggested ‘Pricky-freak’ ‘Pricky-dick’, etc., etc.
‘Roderick, hahahahaha,’ said one of the smaller boys. ‘It sounds like poopy-pants!’ He and another kid started wrestling and moved out of sight.
‘Freaky,’ said Chauncey again, moving closer. ‘Why you wearing a iron suit, huh? Huh? Think you’re tough or some-ping?’
‘No, well I just—’
‘Shaddap. You ain’t so tough I bet without that iron suit. Why don’t you take it off, huh? Huh?’
‘I can’t.’
‘“I can’t”, he says. Spose I take it off you, huh? I could use a iron suit like that, spose I just take it?’
‘He might die, stupid,’ said a kid in a blue track-suit. ‘It’s like a iron lung, ain’t that right?’
‘Shaddap.’ Chauncey grabbed Roderick’s arm and twisted; it turned easily in his grasp. ‘Shit, you ain’t so tough. Bet I could, bet I could take you apart.’
‘Get him, Chaunce.’
‘Yeah, get him.’
Chauncey hit Roderick hard where his stomach might have been, and jumped back shaking his hand. ‘Owww, Chrise, he’s solid steel!’
‘My old man’s got a stainless steel plate in his head,’ someone was saying, but just then someone grabbed Roderick by the head and pulled him over, and feet were kicking at him from every side.
The robot saw no point in trying to get up; he simply lay there, rolling and spinning under the barrage of tennis-shoes. After a while the kicking stopped, and someone helped him to get up. It was Chauncey.
‘You wanna be friends?’
‘Okay, sure.’
‘Okay then Rick, you got, listen, you got any lunch money?’
‘No. What’s that, lunch money? You mean they pay you to eat lunch or—’
‘Don’t be a smart-ass with me, I’ll, I’ll ionize ya. Now you listen and listen good.’
All at once Roderick realized: Chauncey was a villain. Villains invariably told people to listen good. Or else.
‘Listen good, I’ll let you off this time, only tomorrow you bring a dollar. Or else.’
‘Or else what?’
‘Or else we kick your ass, smart-ass.’
A bell rang. Roderick dusted himself off and looked over the scratches in his new paint job. Pa had painted him especially for school; he wouldn’t like this.
Chauncey gave him a last kick that resounded through his innards and left a dent, then ran off after the other kids. They all seemed to be heading for the building, so Roderick tagged along.
Mrs Dorano had just finished calling the roll, checking each name against one of her magnetic cards, when the door opened and the security man came in trundling Roderick.
‘I caught this kid sneaking around the hall,’ he said. ‘Yours?’
She consulted a lone card. ‘This must be little, er, little Roger. The Wood boy.’
Someone piped, ‘Hahaha, looks like a steel boy to me.’
Unsmiling, she waited until the uproar settled. ‘Naughty. We don’t make fun of crippled people, do we, boys and girls?’
‘No, MRS DORANO.’
‘Do we, Billy?’
‘No, Mrs Dorano.’
‘All right then. Thank you, Mr Ogilvy.’
The guard shuffled out of the room, his shin-pads clacking together as he muttered, ‘…vandalizers… burglarizers…’
‘Now then Roger, you sit right here in front next to, that’s right, between Chauncey and Jill, now I see by your card here you haven’t been to school before — illness I guess and that means you may have just a teeny bit of trouble catching up, so you just follow along for now, watch Chaunc — watch Jill and just more or less do what she — anyway now we’re going to pledge allegiance. Everybody up, up, up.’
‘What’s pledge allegiancing?’
‘Hahahaha,’ Chauncey aimed a kick at him. ‘He don’t even know—’
‘That’s enough!’
‘Yeah but he don’t even—’
‘Chauncey be quiet. Roger, dear, haven’t you ever pledged allegiance to the pretty flag? No? Well just take your right hand—’
‘Hahahaha, he ain’t got no hand. He’s got—’
‘Put your hand, of course he’s got lovely artificial hands, put your hand over your heart—’
‘I haven’t got a heart either,’ Roderick said. Jill gasped.
‘And say—’
‘Missus Dorano, Missus Dorano!’ Jill jumped up and down, pointing to him. ‘He says he ain’t got a heart, how can he pledge allegiance without a heart I mean it’s illegal.’
‘Of course little Roger’s got a heart, dumpling. Everybody’s got a heart, Roger, I hope you’re not going to be a little fibber, don’t you want to be a good American? Roger?’
‘My name’s Roderick.’
‘More fibs, tch tch tch, Roger it says on your card and Roger you are — the computer never lies.’
‘I wanta go home now.’