Truancy Read online

  “If we went to the principal’s office now,” Tack said, “do you think we’d be able to see it happen?”

  “You mean, see the guy get expelled?” Suzie looked up at Tack curiously. “Why would you want to see that, Tacky?”

  Tack was willing to overlook the use of his annoying pet name, just this once. “I’m just curious,” he said, keeping his voice casual.

  “Well, I suppose we weren’t doing anything else anyway,” Suzie said, standing up. “If you really wanna, I suppose we’d have a good chance of seeing it.”

  “Great, what’re we waiting for?” Tack leaped to his feet and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

  It didn’t take long for Tack to make his way around the building with a less enthusiastic Suzie in tow. As they reentered the school, they found that a small crowd had already gathered around the principal’s office. Tack and Suzie quickly joined them, craning their necks to get a better look.

  “Look, we just made it!” Suzie dared to whisper, speaking low enough that no one would notice her breaking the “total silence” policy.

  Tack nodded. In the midst of the crowd stood the principal. Next to her slouched a moody-looking, pale-faced blond boy. The boy had the air of a condemned person trying to hold on to some measure of dignity before his execution. The principal, meanwhile, looked as if she’d like nothing better than to order the students around her to leave—and she probably would have, were it not for the third, more formidable presence among them.

  “Mr. Caine!” The principal greeted the Disciplinary Officer formally, offering her hand. “I’m glad that you could make it on such short notice.”

  “You gave every indication that it was urgent, so I came as soon as I could.” Mr. Caine shook her hand.

  Tack examined Mr. Caine with fascination. He looked like a normal person, albeit one crammed into a formal-looking suit that seemed almost as uncomfortable as their school uniforms. His features were utterly unremarkable, and had Tack seen him in passing, he would never have been able to identify him as an Educator, much less a Disciplinary Officer.

  And then, as Tack examined Mr. Caine’s face, he noticed something else that struck him as extremely odd—the man actually seemed nervous, though he was clearly doing his best to conceal it.

  “It’s a shame that we haven’t had the chance to meet before,” the principal said genially. “And I wish it could’ve been under happier circumstances.”

  “Well, I was only appointed to the job recently,” Mr. Caine pointed out. “And as for the circumstances … ah, is this young Master Jones?”

  Mr. Caine turned his gaze from the principal to the guilty child.

  “That’s my name,” Jones confirmed quietly.

  “Young man, this is Mr. Caine,” the principal said sternly. “He is the new Disciplinary Officer for our school.”

  “What happened to the old one?” Jones muttered.

  “He had a little accident.” Mr. Caine smoothed his hair and frowned. “But that’s beside the point.”

  “Mr. Caine, this boy is a miscreant,” the principal said, sounding very formal.

  “I can see that.” Mr. Caine looked down at the boy. “So, Jones, I’ve heard that you’ve been waging a war against our … toilets.”

  “Yeah,” Jones admitted boldly.

  “You are aware that this school and everything in it is Educator property?” Mr. Caine asked.

  “Something like that,” Jones said.

  “And you are aware, I hope, that destroying Educator property is illegal?” Mr. Caine continued.

  “I guess,” Jones said in a low monotone.

  “You signed a number of documents promising to uphold our rules and abide by our laws,” Mr. Caine pointed out, producing the folded documents from his coat pocket. “I have them here.

  “I am afraid, given the magnitude of your crime…,” Mr. Caine continued, examining a few of the sheets he’d withdrawn, “and considering that you seem to have something of a history of troublemaking, I have little choice but to expel you from the City school system.”

  “Right,” Jones said, keeping his voice level.

  “I’m glad you’re at least willing to accept responsibility for your actions.” Mr. Caine folded the papers and replaced them in his pocket. “Your parents have already been informed. You won’t be seeing them again. Now, come this way.”

  “Whatever,” Jones said, trying his best to sound indifferent.

  Mr. Caine placed his hand on Jones’ shoulder, and led him firmly towards the school exit. The crowd knew better than to follow, and stayed rooted where they were, stunned.

  The uneasy silence was broken by the principal. “All right, nothing to see here; clear out,” she barked. “Show’s over; get going!”

  Reluctantly, the crowd began to disperse. Suzie led Tack away by his sleeve, and he allowed himself to be dragged, though his eyes and attention were focused on the retreating forms of Mr. Caine and Jones. What fate awaited him? What exactly happened to the expelled students after they were led out of the school by an Educator?

  Every question Tack had ever asked himself about expulsion rose immediately to the top of his head, demanding answers. What made it worse was the fact that he knew that there was no one who could give him any answers, no one that he could ask—

  No, that was wrong, wasn’t it? Tack came to that realization with a jolt. There was one person he could ask.

  * * *

  “So we know that the Truancy has been recruiting heavily from the vagrant population,” the Mayor said, flipping his lighter open.

  “Yes, sir. It seems that the vagrants prefer to try their luck as Truants, as opposed to starving. Observations indicate that, as a result, vagrancy levels are at an all-time low…,” Mr. Waters said.

  “Leaving Truancy levels at an all-time high,” the Mayor finished, clicking his lighter shut. “Let’s get straight to the point, Chief Enforcer. I have a plan to deal with this problem.”

  “What’s that, sir?” the Chief Enforcer asked, genuinely curious.

  “Firstly, make it illegal for any expelled student to return to their homes or contact their parents and guardians after being expelled,” the Mayor said as Mr. Waters took notes on a small pad. “In this way we can prevent the expelled students from ever seeing their parents. After that, we’ll be free to execute them all quietly without anyone making any fuss.”

  The Chief Enforcer dropped his pen.

  “Ex … execute them?”

  “The vagrants were always just dead children walking,” the Mayor said dismissively. “We used to be content to just let them rot and die slowly. But now they’re becoming Truants, and we can’t have that. So, let us preemptively put them out of their misery. I’ll have the legislation done today. I want your Enforcers to begin executing newly expelled students within three days.”

  “But sir—,” the Chief Enforcer began to protest.

  “This is not a debate, Mr. Waters,” the Mayor said coldly. “Remember, I took an oath to protect this City and its schools, and I intend to fulfill it by any means necessary. You Enforcers take a similar oath, and I expect the same from you. Do you understand?”

  “Well, I…”

  “I said, do you understand? It is not a complicated question.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Oh, and one more thing.”

  “Sir?”

  “Try to keep this quiet. I think it best that no one finds out about this.”

  “I agree, Mr. Mayor. I completely agree.”

  * * *

  Tack ran as fast as his legs could propel him, his heart pounding in his chest. It had happened at last. Just as he had begun to forget about them, the bully Joe and his friends from Freshman Friday had spotted Tack on his way to District 19 after school and decided to finish what they’d started.

  Tack knew that he could beat them to the barrier, but this time the three bullies were willing to follow, having seen Tack go over the fence and live to co
me back again. They wasted no time in scrambling over the fence after Tack. Tack still had a decent lead, but his chest was now burning with every step. Skidding around the corner, Tack had never been gladder to see Umasi sitting there, at his lemonade stand in his usual pose, book in hand with his feet up on the table.

  He didn’t know how he knew that Umasi would be able to help, but Tack was somehow confident that Umasi could solve any problem.

  “Umasi, you’ve gotta help me,” Tack panted, running up to the table.

  Umasi put his book down and raised an eyebrow. “What’s the matter?”

  “Bunch of … jerks … chasing me…,” Tack gasped, pointing to the street corner he had just rounded.

  “Why would they be doing that?” Umasi inquired.

  “Because they’re jerks!” Tack almost yelled in frustration, wondering why Umasi wouldn’t appreciate the urgency of the situation.

  Umasi was silent. A moment later, the three bullies rounded the corner, spotted Tack and Umasi, and began approaching with menacing grins on their faces.

  “Fools,” Umasi diagnosed quietly.

  “There you are. Get over here, punk,” Joe ordered, pointing at Tack.

  Umasi slowly lowered his feet from the table.

  “You seem to take issue with my friend,” Umasi said politely.

  “Yeah, we do; you got a problem with that?” Joe challenged.

  “Is there a reason that you wish to cause him bodily harm?” Umasi asked.

  “The kid don’t know when to keep his mouth shut and respect his elders.”

  Umasi sighed. “His words must have hurt your feelings very badly to provoke such a reaction.”

  Joe and his friends glanced at each other confusedly. Was the kid making fun of them? Who talked like that at their age anyway?

  “You wanna fight?” Joe puffed his chest up and spread his arms.

  “Not particularly,” Umasi admitted. “Pounding a problem into submission was never my preferred solution.”

  “If you ain’t gonna fight, then shut the hell up,” Joe ordered.

  “You misunderstand.” Umasi frowned. “I would only prefer not to fight.”

  “Yeah, and whaddya think you’re gonna do?” one of the other boys demanded.

  “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouth shut and stay out of this,” Joe agreed.

  “Please turn around and leave this district,” Umasi requested, taking a sip of lemonade. “Otherwise, I must apologize in advance for anything I might have to do to ensure the continued well-being of my friend.”

  “Whatever,” the third kid said. “Let’s get him, Joe.”

  “Right.” Joe grinned again, taking a few steps towards Tack, who was now sweating.

  Joe moved as if to punch Tack, and what happened next happened so fast that Tack would never be sure about how it happened. All his eyes registered was a blur, and then came a sickly snapping noise. The next thing he knew, Umasi was grasping Joe’s outstretched arm with one hand, his cup of lemonade still in the other, and had at the same time driven the heel of his foot into the side of Joe’s knee joint so that the lower leg bent in strange directions. There was a moment of silence as everyone froze in disbelief. The silence was shattered by an agonized scream.

  As Joe screeched and moaned, thrashing frantically on the ground, his buddies gaped at Umasi.

  “It’s nothing permanent,” Umasi assured them. “He won’t be kicking anyone with that leg for a while, but he’ll be fine. Now, why don’t you two see to your friend? Drag him back to school and have someone sort him out.”

  Anxious to get away, the two thugs grabbed their friend and started to drag him towards the corner, eliciting another loud scream as well as a long string of profanities. As they left, Tack was satisfied to see a look of utter bewilderment on their faces, noting that he wasn’t the only one mystified by Umasi.

  “So, I sense that something new is bothering you today,” Umasi observed casually, regarding Tack as he sat down again. “Something beside bullies, that is.”

  Apparently, Umasi had come to know Tack a little better during his increasingly frequent visits. On the other hand, Umasi had, throughout all the meetings, remained as mysterious and inscrutable as ever to Tack.

  “Yeah … yeah, I had a question,” Tack said, sitting down shakily, taking a drink from the proffered cup of lemonade to calm himself. The adrenaline coursing through his veins would take a while to wear off.

  “Curiosity is a dangerous beast, Tack,” Umasi mused, as though nothing had happened at all. “Speak, and I’ll do my best to satisfy it—though in my experience the more it is fed, the bigger it gets.”

  Tack ignored the strange metaphor and looked up at Umasi, whose face was, as usual, expressionless. He took a deep breath, and asked the question that had haunted countless students over the years.

  “What do the Educators do to expelled students?”

  “Nothing.”

  Tack jerked his head up, unbelieving. “What?”

  “Nothing is done to them, other than their removal from school,” Umasi explained.

  “But…” Tack stared, his head spinning. “Then why…”

  “Because being removed from school is not the true punishment,” Umasi explained. “It’s what comes afterwards. As you know, the Educators control nearly everything in this City, either directly or indirectly. Students that are expelled are typically shunned by their families. Unable to find work, they inevitably end up prowling the streets as vagrants—a living, dreadful reminder to parents about what the consequences are if they do not groom their children to be obedient in school.”

  Tack digested this information.

  “That’s horrible,” he said quietly.

  “Indeed,” Umasi agreed grimly. “Those condemned individuals usually wander for the rest of their short lives with no purpose. Occasionally they might get rowdy, in which case the Enforcers are sent in to … put them down.”

  Tack eyed the ground. So, being expelled was awful after all, although in an entirely different way than he had imagined.

  “However…,” Umasi murmured.

  Tack’s head snapped up. There was something in Umasi’s voice that told him that the other boy was considering revealing something secret.

  “What?” Tack demanded excitedly.

  Umasi adjusted his sunglasses and cocked his head. Tack couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous as Umasi seemed to inspect him again, measuring his character. Finally, apparently having decided that Tack had passed the test, Umasi nodded slowly.

  “Of late, expelled students have been given another chance at life,” Umasi said.

  “What? Are they being allowed back into schools again?” Tack asked eagerly.

  “No.” Umasi’s face did not change.

  “But … if they’re not being allowed into school—,” Tack began.

  “They are being given the opportunity to fight it,” Umasi said quietly.

  “Fight … fight it?”

  “Yes. You know, of course, about the children that fight the Educators. They welcome the vagrants into their ranks,” Umasi explained. “The vagrants now fight against the system that disowned them. They fight because they might as well fight instead of starve. They also fight because they are deluded.”

  “About what?” Tack blurted.

  “They typically believe that by fighting, they might improve their futures, but in reality all that they are offered is a more exciting death,” Umasi explained quietly. “When it comes down to it, the only lucid ones are in it for the thrill, or for revenge.”

  Tack frowned. Imagining the bleak future that might await him if he was expelled, he knew that he wouldn’t sit around idly, waiting to die. He’d want to fight the Educators. He’d want revenge; he would want excitement—if the expelled students were offered both when they would otherwise have nothing, could they really be blamed?

  “I see that you do not completely agree with my evaluation,” Umasi ob
served lightly. “That is understandable. Were I still attending school, I might disagree with it myself. But, having had the opportunity to spend years thinking about it, I’ve managed to convince myself that I am right.” Umasi adjusted his sunglasses slightly. “Don’t worry about it, Tack; I’ve yet to find anyone that agrees with me. At any rate, if you are lucky, you yourself will never have to make that decision.”

  “Which decision?” Tack asked, feeling that he was losing track of things.

  “To fight the Educators, or not,” Umasi reminded him. “In any case, it is getting late again. Let us conclude our business for today.”

  Wanting time alone to ponder what he had learned, Tack had no inclination to argue. He picked up his backpack, slung it over his shoulder smoothly, and began to make his way back home. He was no fighter, but Umasi was right about one thing, at least—if Tack were lucky, he would never have to worry about fighting. No, he’d just have to worry about homework, and tests, and keeping his sanity.

  “I lose either way,” Tack muttered to himself.

  And he was right. After all, in the City, students were always the losers.

  8

  WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS

  “And then my father heard about Mr. Niel’s quiz, and he threw a fit and cut off my allowance!” Tack said angrily, flailing his arms in the air in an imitation of his father, forgetting that he was holding a cup of lemonade in his right hand. Lemonade splashed over the rim and onto Umasi’s pants.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Umasi said as Tack began to apologize. “The weather is getting warmer; I could do with some refreshment.”

  Tack noted that lemonade, being sticky on top of being cold, would hardly be comfortable no matter how warm the weather was. Still, he was grateful that Umasi was willing to overlook his clumsiness. He was also grateful for a lot more as well.

  Following confrontation with the bullies, Tack had only ever seen the trio once at school, and they had quickly fled at the sight of him. Since then, Tack had made a habit of returning to District 19 to talk to Umasi, and to vent his frustrations. He was now visiting Umasi almost every day, even though his parents yelled at him for spending too much time with his friends and not enough time on his schoolwork. Tack didn’t feel bad about lying to them, as in a way he was telling the truth. He regarded Umasi as a friend—though an extremely odd one.