She only pointed to his room, where he sulked. Not because he had been sent home or laughed at or scolded by the principal. Not even for the drunk hand of his father when he would arrive home that night. None of that mattered. All of it had happened before, more or less.
No, he sulked because he had no idea what had become of Robot Raccoon. After flying across the class and smashing apart on collision, Robot had been forgotten in the blur of battle, and never seen again as the boys were escorted away. Do robots die? Or could he be repaired and made whole once more?
There was a silence so palpable in Jew's bedroom that he thought he might explode again. He didn't care if he was right or wrong, if his teacher and the other students hated him. None of that mattered. Robot Raccoon was right. They were gnats buzzing around him, sometimes powerful and stinging, but actually powerless and insignificant. It was only their buzzing that had the power to distract. It was his duty to ignore them. To learn that skill. That would be his real education.
As he lay there, he heard sounds coming from downstairs. Ah, there it was. The recently arrived television. Locking in his mother. And when his father came home, it would get him too. But for Jew it was a suppressed background noise against his books, his mind. More buzzing.
Another sound came. This time from the other direction. The window. Something scratching. Against the glass. It—
"Robot Raccoon!" said Jew.
"Let me in, kid."
Jew got out of bed and opened the window.
"How'd you get here?" he said.
"Never mind that, Jew . We gotta talk."
"Are you okay , Robot?"
"Me? Sure, sure. It's you I'm worried about. The way you tore into that Eric kid. Sheesh! I wouldn't want to be him."
"I thought he ha d killed… I thought he broke you."
"Naw! Takes a lickin', me. I'm alright."
"Good. Well, I guess I'll be out of school a few days. But when I go back, I won't let anyone see you again. It was an accident. It won't happen again."
"That 's what we need to talk about. You see, Jew, I been thinking. You're in the second grade now. You're becoming a big kid. We've known each other a while, but I'm thinking… well, how do I put this? I'm thinking I might need to stretch my feet and get out for a while. Give you some distance."
"Distance?"
"Yeah, you know, some space. We're still gonna be friends of course, but now that you're all busy with school it seems a good idea if we split up now and then. I'll let you go to school on your own from now on."
"You – you don 't want to go with me?"
"That 's not what I said. Of course I want to go. But we gotta be practical. You're growing up, and it'll be good for you to be on your own."
"But what about Eric Knudsen?"
"What about that wimp? You showed him a thing or two today and you didn't need me for any of that. Besides, what could I do? I'm just a robot raccoon."
The raccoon 's mouth opened and sparks shot out. Jew laughed.
"Okay, Robot. If that's how you want it. As long as we're still friends."
"Of course we 're friends. Don't be thick, kid."
But Jew knew that things were in flux. The ground under his feet. Robot Raccoon was disappearing.
III.
1963.
Two years more and Jew was eight.
It had been a rough day at school. Johnny and Freddie had beaten him in the restroom again. And this time it wasn't even for lunch money. It was after lunch and they'd done it for fun.
And earlier in the day, Angela, the girl who sat next to him, had told him he smelled like cheese. She hadn't specified the type of cheese – probably provolone, he decided. But even if it was mozzarella or gorgonzola, he interpreted her observation as a derogatory and cruel maneuver. He doubted he would ever get to kiss her, much less perform experiments on her.
It was a humid bleary day that enveloped him as he walked home.
"Hey, Jew!"
He looked up. "Huh?"
"How ya doin ', Jew boy?"
It was Robot Raccoon. Suddenly life didn't seem so bad. Robot Raccoon was
No, he sulked because he had no idea what had become of Robot Raccoon. After flying across the class and smashing apart on collision, Robot had been forgotten in the blur of battle, and never seen again as the boys were escorted away. Do robots die? Or could he be repaired and made whole once more?
There was a silence so palpable in Jew's bedroom that he thought he might explode again. He didn't care if he was right or wrong, if his teacher and the other students hated him. None of that mattered. Robot Raccoon was right. They were gnats buzzing around him, sometimes powerful and stinging, but actually powerless and insignificant. It was only their buzzing that had the power to distract. It was his duty to ignore them. To learn that skill. That would be his real education.
As he lay there, he heard sounds coming from downstairs. Ah, there it was. The recently arrived television. Locking in his mother. And when his father came home, it would get him too. But for Jew it was a suppressed background noise against his books, his mind. More buzzing.
Another sound came. This time from the other direction. The window. Something scratching. Against the glass. It—
"Robot Raccoon!" said Jew.
"Let me in, kid."
Jew got out of bed and opened the window.
"How'd you get here?" he said.
"Never mind that, Jew . We gotta talk."
"Are you okay , Robot?"
"Me? Sure, sure. It's you I'm worried about. The way you tore into that Eric kid. Sheesh! I wouldn't want to be him."
"I thought he ha d killed… I thought he broke you."
"Naw! Takes a lickin', me. I'm alright."
"Good. Well, I guess I'll be out of school a few days. But when I go back, I won't let anyone see you again. It was an accident. It won't happen again."
"That 's what we need to talk about. You see, Jew, I been thinking. You're in the second grade now. You're becoming a big kid. We've known each other a while, but I'm thinking… well, how do I put this? I'm thinking I might need to stretch my feet and get out for a while. Give you some distance."
"Distance?"
"Yeah, you know, some space. We're still gonna be friends of course, but now that you're all busy with school it seems a good idea if we split up now and then. I'll let you go to school on your own from now on."
"You – you don 't want to go with me?"
"That 's not what I said. Of course I want to go. But we gotta be practical. You're growing up, and it'll be good for you to be on your own."
"But what about Eric Knudsen?"
"What about that wimp? You showed him a thing or two today and you didn't need me for any of that. Besides, what could I do? I'm just a robot raccoon."
The raccoon 's mouth opened and sparks shot out. Jew laughed.
"Okay, Robot. If that's how you want it. As long as we're still friends."
"Of course we 're friends. Don't be thick, kid."
But Jew knew that things were in flux. The ground under his feet. Robot Raccoon was disappearing.
III.
1963.
Two years more and Jew was eight.
It had been a rough day at school. Johnny and Freddie had beaten him in the restroom again. And this time it wasn't even for lunch money. It was after lunch and they'd done it for fun.
And earlier in the day, Angela, the girl who sat next to him, had told him he smelled like cheese. She hadn't specified the type of cheese – probably provolone, he decided. But even if it was mozzarella or gorgonzola, he interpreted her observation as a derogatory and cruel maneuver. He doubted he would ever get to kiss her, much less perform experiments on her.
It was a humid bleary day that enveloped him as he walked home.
"Hey, Jew!"
He looked up. "Huh?"
"How ya doin ', Jew boy?"
It was Robot Raccoon. Suddenly life didn't seem so bad. Robot Raccoon was
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