Page 6 of Raven's Instinct
“OUTSIDE!” Gil suggested at full volume. “Can we do it OUTSIDE?”
“Maybe after lunch,” Addison said firmly. “This is Mr. Petrov.”
“HI MISTER PEED OFF.”
“PeeTROFF,” Alan said helplessly.
There was a little chorus of mispronunciations of his name, and Alan realized that he was very firmly the object of everyone’s attention.
“They can call me Alan,” he told Addison uncertainly, but “Peed Off” had already taken fire across the room. The kids old enough to find it funny were laughing, and the younger children were giggling just to go along with it.
He’d done plenty of public speaking, but Alan never had an audience like this. They stared at him without eventryingnot to stare.
The gray haired woman gave up trying to keep the band together and left her drumsticks to rise gracefully to her feet.
“Nice to meet you, Alan,” she said warmly as she approached, impeded by two shy children who clung to her calves. “I’m Cherry. Thanksso muchfor coming to help us out.”
To Alan’s surprise, Cherry was not a shifter. There was not the slightest tingle of magic from her, even when they shook hands. She had a soft, tolerant look to her, like everything was amusing and she was a breath away from breaking into laughter. Maybe she was particularly tickled by Alan’s new nickname.
Cherry dumped him into story time, which was less about reading and more about fielding questions that had nothing to do with the book.
“Is that your real hair?” one girl asked after raising her hand but not waiting to be called on. One of the littler kids had simply climbed into his lap and taken double handfuls to test its authenticity.
“That is indeed my hair,” Alan answered gravely. “The next day, the caterpillar…”
“Why is it long?” a boy asked. He put his hand up belatedly. “Are you a girl?”
“He’s a MISTER,” Gil volunteered. “Mister PEED OFF.”
“I wear my hair long to respect my ancestors,” Alan said, choosing to ignore Gil’s well-meant help. Despite his efforts to have the kids call him Alan, or Teacher Alan or even Mr. Alan, Mr. Peed Off had stuck. His attempts to correct the pronunciation (PeeTROFF) were met with helpless giggles.
His raven wasn’t helping matters, echoing the nickname with a cackle of laughter every time it was used.
Are you mad about it?his raven taunted.Are you PEED OFF??
By the end of the book, he had two kids curled in his lap and a third was leaning fearlessly over his shoulder to see the pictures before anyone else.
One of them tried to take his phone from his pocket, and found the carved antler raven he kept there.
Besides being magical, it was small enough to swallow, and the phone was expensive, so Alan took them both back, rubbing the well-worn back of the raven out of habit before putting both items up out of reach on a shelf that Cherry knowingly pointed out.
When the book was finished, he was immediately recruited into games of pretend.
“You be baby!” one girl tried to convince him. “I’m your mom!” The actual babies in the day care wanted no part of this game and no one would let her carry them around.
“He has to be a MONSTER!” Gil protested.
“MONSTER!” another child echoed.
“I’m a monster!” Alan roared, gleefully getting into the game. “I’m a big, terrible, mean monster and I’m going to get away with all your toys if you don’t stop me!”
They dogpiled him, five to one, which might have been very unfair if he wasn’t ten times their size and strength. He pretended to stagger when they clung to his legs and climbed to his arms, and gently kept them from getting too rough. “Catch me, don’t hit me!”
“You’re a bad guy!” one of them insisted.
“I’m apretendbad guy,” Alan clarified. “No hitting.” It felt ironic to say so. How many times had he hit first and asked questions after?
He came to an abrupt stop and had to catch both his breath and Gil, who toppled forward off his shoulder into his arms.
