The office lady smiled a powdery smile and put her hand on his shoulder. "All right, Alan, come with me." Davey was sitting on the dusty sofa in the vice principal's office. He punched the sofa cushion rhythmically. "Alan," he said when the office lady led him in. "Hi, Dave," Alan said. "What's going on?" "They're stupid here. I hate them." He gave the sofa a particularly vicious punch. "I'll get Mr Davenport," the office lady said, and closed the door behind her. "What did you do?" Alan asked. "She wouldn't let me play!" David said, glaring at him. "Who wouldn't?" "A girl! She had the blocks and I wanted to play with them and she wouldn't let me!" "What did you hit her with?" Alan asked, dreading the answer. "A block," David said, suddenly and murderously cheerful. "I hit her in the eye!" Alan groaned. The door opened and the vice principal, Mr. Davenport, came in and sat behind his desk. He was the punishment man, the one that no one wanted to be sent in to see. "Hello, Alan," he said gravely. Alan hadn't ever been personally called before Mr. Davenport, but Billy got into some spot of precognitive trouble from time to time, rushing out of class to stop some disaster at home or somewhere else in the school. Mr. Davenport knew that Alan was a straight arrow, not someone he'd ever need to personally take an interest in. He crouched down next to Darren, hitching up his slacks. "You must be David," he said, ducking down low to meet Davey's downcast gaze. Davey punched the sofa. "I'm Mr. Davenport," he said, and extended a hand with a big class ring on it and a smaller wedding band. Davey kicked him in the nose, and the vice principal toppled over backward, whacking his head on the sharp corner of his desk. He tumbled over onto his side and clutched his head. "Mother*fucker*!" he gasped, and Davey giggled maniacally. Alan grabbed Davey's wrist and bent his arm behind his back, shoving him across his knee. He swatted the little boy on the ass as hard as he could, three times. "Don't you ever --" Alan began. The vice principal sat up, still clutching his head. "That's enough!" he said, catching Alan's arm. "Sorry," Alan said. "And David's sorry, too, right?" He glared at David. "You're a stupid mother*fucker*!" David said, and squirmed off of Alan's lap. The vice principal's lips tightened. "Alan," he said quietly, "take your brother into the hallway. I am going to write a note that your mother will have to sign before David comes back to school, after his two-week suspension." David glared at them each in turn. "I'm not coming back to this mother*fucker* place!" he said. He didn't. # The rain let up by afternoon, leaving a crystalline, fresh-mown air hanging over the Market.