A Blind Pig story-2

For a public school the junior high we send Jenny to isn't too bad. You hear all these stories of kids taking guns to school or selling drugs in the toilets. This isn't that kind of school. I wouldn't let Jenny go if it was.

I'm not saying it's ideal. There's still some rough and tumble, and Jenny's told me about the other kids playing tricks on their teachers and everything. I feel like I should say it was all so much better in my day, but kids don't really change. Not most of them, anyway.

Whatever doubts I may have had about the school were buried when they took that tough stand with Susan Lewis. I'm not saying it's her fault, or anything. Scabs is a terrible disease and God knows the victims don't need punishing, but at the same time it's not right for them to be around normal kids.

The principle, Miss Martinez, seemed not too sure of herself at first. She was new there and I don't think she'd ever had a student go Scab on her before. I joined together with some of the other parents to tell her we didn't want some half animal mixing with our kids. I mean, kids are kids, right? They fight in the playground. And if you've got some kid who's half ferret it's only natural that they'll bite. And that spit of theirs is going to have all of those Scabs germs swimming about in it. It only stands to reason that it's not a good idea for them to mix with our kids. There's special schools for their sort.

Miss Martinez tried to tell us how most people were carried the Scabs virus anyway. Maybe that's so, but that doesn't mean you've got to take any more chances. If they were her own kids she would have seen that. The petition changed her mind in the end. Apart from the Lewises there were maybe another dozen parents who wouldn't sign. All but the most woolly-minded liberals could see the sense.

Dick and Ina Lewis stopped talking to us then. There was a big fight first when they tried to tell me that Susan was the same girl she'd always been. They couldn't understand why we were acting like this about a kid we used to think of as our other daughter. I tried to make them see how I was just trying to protect the other kids, but they couldn't see how this was different to hurting Susan. I wish it could have been different.

Anyway, it wouldn't have been fair on Susan. Kids can be monsters. I remember what it was like for me, and all that was wrong was I was a little plump. I can't imagine what it would be like if I'd had fur and a tail. Susan would have hated it, I'm sure.

A Blind Pig story

I brought my family to the city when I was looking for work almost ten years ago. I took a job as a cab driver to fill in time until something better came along. Nothing ever did, so that's what I am now - a cab driver. It's not what I ever saw myself doing, but it puts food on the table, so that's good enough.

Jenny was just a baby when we came here. Dirk came after a cold night a few years down the line. All we could afford when we got here was this dirty little tenement flat. We did our best to make it somewhere worth living in, repainting it as we got the money, buying second-hand furniture and ornaments. Over the years it's become home. The rest of the building still feels like Sodom and Gomorrah rolled into one sometimes, but we try keep to our little island of normality.

Jenny's almost a teenager now, still all blonde curls and dimples, pretty as can be. I worry about her a lot, just like any good father would. I only want what's best for her. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?

My wife, Angie, used to wait tables in a diner and keeps on at me to let her go back to it. It wouldn't be right, though, with the kids and everything. Kids need a full-time mother. Kids need a good, stable home. Still, sometimes I think it would be good for us to have the extra money; I'm never going to earn enough to get us out of this place.

When we first moved in the neighbours really got to me. A lot of them are Haitians and Jamaicans and immigrants from God knows where. The noise from their shouting and fighting kept us awake at nights, the piles of garbage they left attracted rats and roaches. Half the time they let their kids run around like animals, wrecking the place and making trouble. Still, we keep to ourselves and there are rarely any real problems. At least there didn't used to be.

I feel sorry for the Lewises. I really do. No one deserves what they’ve gone through. I still remember Susan as that angel-faced little toddler that Jenny invited to her fourth birthday party. They moved into the building not long after us, into an apartment down the end of the corridor. It was natural that Jenny and Susan would become friends, seeing as they were the same age. I was so happy that she'd found a nice, clean white girl to play with. Angie and I used to baby sit for Susan, letting her stay for sleepovers whenever Jenny asked.

It was terrible what happened to her.