It was a more confident Martin who summoned Roddy into his study.
“Myers, you are suspended from the school pending a report to the board of governors. The victim of this attack is too unwell to make a statement at this moment, so I have informed your father of the circumstances and he is coming to collect you. You will be informed of our final decision in due course.”
“All because I hit that little queer? He won’t make any statement, because he knows what’s good for him, or should I say her? My dad will break you, and then see how high and mighty you are!”
The boy arrogantly strode out, leaving the door open.
Martin smiled, anticipating that, perhaps, just this once, he would get the last laugh.
Back in the sick-bay, Kenneth grabbed his pack and took out the torc. If only he’d been able to wear it before, then none of this would ever have happened. He knew, though, that he just couldn’t wear it, as the consequences would be disastrous. The last thing he wanted to do was draw undue attention to himself, as he never wanted to risk losing his precious torc.
“Can I go back to class if my mother isn’t coming?” he asked.
“The headmaster thinks you ought to go home and take the day off.”
“Why?”
“You were unconscious.”
“I’m not now, though, am I? I’m fine.”
He was asked to sign a form to say that he was leaving the sick-bay on his own accord and against the advice of the nurse.
He was a little late to his French lesson, which was no bad thing.
“I’m pleased to see you up and about, but I suppose it would be too much to ask whether you actually did your homework?” the French teacher asked.
Without a word, he handed in his work, and went to sit at the back. He did not participate, other than he managed to stay awake, despite a cracking headache.
At the end of the lesson, he was making his way to his next class when the Headmaster sought him out.
“Ah, Frost, I thought you were going home?” he said.
“My mother is obviously too busy, sir.”
“Then perhaps you could come and give me your side of events. I’ll notify your next class you’re otherwise engaged.”
Once in his study Mr Pettifer was slightly concerned as to how best to deal with this pupil. Kenneth had made his way through the school with minimal fuss for the last four years or so. He was a bright student who lacked drive and commitment, according to all his teachers. They also said he was distracted and not giving all his attention; had he done so, then he would be excelling across the board. Now he had spoken to the school nurse, it seems there is a valid reason to be somewhat distracted.
“I’ve spoken to Nurse Verity,” he started by saying.
Kenneth sat there and waited.
“She says that you feel well enough to return to class; are you sure?”
“I’m still alive.”
“Would you care to tell me what happened?” Martin asked, trying to sound as non-judgmental as possible.
“Roddy insulted me and didn’t like it when I gave some back. He hit me; end of story.”
“What did he say to you?”
“He put on a walk that suggested that I was gay or effeminate; so I told him to fuck off.”
“And he hit you?”
“That’s the sum of it; yes.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ve been better, but I think I’ll survive.”
The Headmaster looked a little uncomfortable.
“The nurse also informed me that you stated that you believe you are transgendered?”
“Yes, I did. Is that an offence too?”
Martin frowned, as the boy was being very defensive. Under the circumstances that wasn’t exactly a surprise. He regarded Kenneth and wondered what makes someone feel transgendered. The boy looked reasonably normal, whatever the hell that was. Okay, so he was slender and slightly effeminate, but no more or less than many other teen-aged boys with large-scale hormone changes going on. He tried to sound less abrupt and more sympathetic.
“Of course it isn’t, but it helps me get a clear perspective on what is happening. Have you told anyone else of this?”
“I suggested to Connie that I believed I should have been a girl. To my knowledge she hasn’t told anyone else.”
“How do you come to the conclusion that you are indeed transgendered?”
Kenneth shrugged.
“When it is there every waking moment of every day, one gets to understand that it’s all that matters, and has been for as long as I can remember. School doesn’t matter, home doesn’t matter, being rich or poor doesn’t matter, having friends doesn’t matter, and even having a romantic entanglement doesn’t matter. The only thing that becomes important is the possibility that I might, one day, become the person I should have been born as. For me that would be as a girl. I can’t speak for anyone else.
“I’ve known since I was four that I should have been a girl, my parents have refused to entertain the concept, so I’m stuffed. I need to see doctors and people, but they’ve refused to accept that there is such a thing as a transgendered person, and particularly that I might be one if there was. Their attitude towards gay people is like something out of the ark, so it’s little wonder they’re not encouraging me to follow my heart.”
“Have you spoken to a doctor?”
“Not yet; our GP is a personal friend of my parents, so I’m not likely to get much help there. I’m seventeen soon and will be legally entitled to make my own decisions without reference to my parents, so I can wait a few months.”
“So your parents know?”
“They know, but I don’t think they appreciate the full implications. They believe it’s a phase I’m going through, and a good shrink would be able to cure me.”
“You disagree?”
“Cure me of what, exactly? Look, sir. I’m a girl in a boy’s body. There’s no other way of looking at it. The body can be changed even though the mind can’t. There is one cure and it takes time to bring that body into line with my mind. The evidence is that it doesn’t work the other way around. Don’t you think I would have gone for that if it would have worked?”
Martin sat there with his fingers arched in front of him, with his elbows resting on the desk.
“Roddy’s father has expressed a desire to speak with you,” he said, changing the subject.
“Why?”
“I don’t know, but I am confident he means you no harm. I suspect that Roddy is causing some measure of disquiet at home as well, so I’m of the opinion that Mr Myers is unsure as to how best deal with him.”
“He should have walloped the little sod a long time ago,” Kenneth said with some feeling.
“Quite; but I suspect he will be interested to know whether you wish to make a formal allegation of assault against Roddy.”
“I suppose you are interested, too?”
“Of course, I’m always concerned about the image the school presents to the community, so adverse publicity over activities in the school can be potentially harmful. That notwithstanding, it is essential that we challenge and deal effectively with bad and unacceptable behaviour, no matter who is responsible.”
“Talking to the police means court and statements and the newspapers. I’m not into all that. I just want a quiet life. I would like Roddy dealt with so he’s kept away from me.”
“I think that can be arranged. I’m afraid I can’t advise you regarding Mr Myers’ request. I have no idea why he wants to speak to you, and am not certain whether it would be a positive thing. You might, however, be able to give him a fresh perspective about his son. On the other hand, he might have a different agenda entirely.”
Kenneth shrugged.
“I’m not bothered; I can always tell him to go away, can’t I?”
“Of course, and as you are under seventeen, the law requires an adult present. If your mother isn’t going to be here, then I would be happy to step in.”
Kenneth thought for a moment.