Shy had homework, that was good. He’d come home from Monte intending to make an elaborate sandwich and read the newspaper, but had wound up eating only a few crisps before going back to his book. Ceran and Bettina were having sex outside the airlock in a sandstorm, while Isabel messaged Earth in fluent Russian. Soon Wendy would be home from running Fleurt and they’d heat up the delicious lamb stew she’d made over the weekend, or order Thai curries from Joya and drink white wine.

Roy hit return.

Chapter 11

A MESSAGE FROM NURSE PEACHES

Dear PS 919 parents,

As you know, our beloved schoolyard was vandalized last month. The identity of the perpetrators has since been revealed and a suitable punishment has been assigned—by me. The vandals themselves have agreed to pay for repairs to the schoolyard. They have also agreed to personally apologize to each and every classroom of children in this school for the damage they did that night. And they have agreed to weekly community service within the school from now until winter break.

The apology will take place this Friday, starting at 8:55 a.m. I will need a few parent volunteers to help me walk the vandals from class to class. The whole process should take about three hours.

Repairs, on the other hand, will take longer. A few contractors have made bids. I’ll keep you posted.

Thank you for your help and support. We will have our schoolyard back soon!

My very best,

Peaches Park, school nurse

[email protected]

Stuart followed Nurse Peaches down the fourth-floor hallway to Ted’s classroom. Behind him Peaches’ son, Liam, and his teenage vandal cohort shuffled dutifully along.

“Dad!”

Stuart was a parent volunteer. “Hey, bud.” He hugged Ted’s head to his hip.

“Ticktock,” Ted’s slightly loony septuagenarian homeroom teacher, Mrs. Watson, called out.

“Applesauce!” Ted and the other nine-year-olds responded dutifully and took their seats at their tables.

Liam, Bruce, Black Ryan, and Ryan stood in front of the sunny windows, staring down the lint balls on the round blue classroom rug with nervous exhaustion. They’d worked their way through the grades, missing a whole morning of classes and lunch at their own school. Ted’s was the third to last classroom to hear their guilty plea.

“These big boys have something to say to all of you,” Mrs. Watson told the class. “So I need you to be all ears and open hearts.”

Stuart wanted to hug her. Something about her heavy Brooklyn accent and smoker’s voice using a term like “open hearts” made him feel mushy all over. Maybe it was the massive amounts of THC in his system from the pot he and Mandy had been constantly eating and smoking, or maybe it was the presence of Nurse Peaches in the sunlit classroom, her dimples popping despite her efforts to frown.

“Go ahead, boys,” she said. “Liam, why don’t you start?”