Dr Jew

for sell," said the robot. "I'm a prisoner here. Help me escape! Pick me up and help me get free! Quick, he's coming!"
    The man was coming, with a crumpled brow and frown he paced with predetermined anger across the store. "No kids in here without parents. And where's your shirt? Where's your shoes?"
    "Think quick, kid!"
    The boy grabbed the robot raccoon by the waist and darted toward the door.
    "Hey!" said the man. "Get back here, you little thief!"
    He was scared at first and dared not look back. His energy surged and his legs were on fire. He ran down the sidewalk and air blazed with light around him. Other pedestrians looked with wonder at the boy and his toy.
    The boy was indestructible. His victory was assured.
    "Good work, boy," said the raccoon. "You saved my life."
    Jew found another bush to hide behind.
    "What now?" said the boy. He looked at the small animal and had to laugh. It was a robot. It was a raccoon. It was both and it was his friend.
    "Now whatever ," it said. "I'm just glad to be out of there. I owe you one. What's your name, boy?"
    "Jew," he said, which was the family name and the name he always heard used b y neighbors and others. Yes, the family name, but this last year he had felt less and less a part of the family. His father had lost his job and was always around, grumbling and cranky, drinking the drinks that made him angrier. The boy was Jew , but a different person.
    "Jew, eh? Well, you can call me Robot Raccoon. Just as descriptive. Pleased to meet you."
    They shook hands.
    "We're gonna be the best of friends."

    When night began to come, they went home. Jew went in through the back door, and heard his parents fighting. He tiptoed up to his room and they didn't hear a thing. He hid Robot Raccoon under his bed where no one would see it. If his mom found it she would yell at him and demand to know where he had got it, and he would never tell her.
    He was starting to get hungry. He told Robot Raccoon.
    "So get something to eat, silly. I may be a robot, but I know you need food."
    So Jew walked down the stairs, so quietly, and heard his parents still yelling in their bedroom. He climbed up on the counter, and was reaching for the cookies on top of the fridge, when the doorbell rang. He almost fell, but started climbing down and running up to his room. On his way, his father came out with a flushed red face. He saw his son running around the house and eyed him suspiciously, but went on to answer the front door. Jew paused on the stairs to listen.
    "Ah, hello. Mr… Jew, isn't it?"
    "Yes?" said his father. "What is it?"
    "Yes, I believe you have a boy. A son. Who I have seen many times in my toy store. I own the toy store."
    "So?" said his father.
    "So I think he came into my store today. He took a toy and didn't pay for it."
    "That 's ridiculous. We've been home all day."
    "Well… I 'm not doubting you. I'm only saying I saw him there a few hours ago. He didn't seem to be wearing much in the way of clothes. Perhaps he slipped out when you weren't looking. Have you been with him all this time?"
    "Well… no," said his father. "We've been… busy. What is it you say he took?"
    "A toy. A robot animal."
    "Alright, alright, I 'll take a look and talk with him. If it turns out he took it I'll come in tomorrow and pay for it. Alright?"
    "That will be fine. Good night."
    Jew heard his father shut the door, and the boy ran up to his room. He shut the door behind him.
    His father didn 't knock and the door exploded.
    "So ?" he said. "Did you go to the toy store? Little animal! Running around the neighborhood half-naked. And stealing? Is that the kind of creature I have in my house?"
    "I… I didn 't," said Jew.
    "Lies. Like your whore mother. Like all of you, just a pack of liars. It's her blood, the mongrel bitch."
    "I… I didn 't."
    "Where is it? The toy. Where is it?"
    "I don 't have—"
    "Lies!"
    His father reached down and unbuckled his belt.
    "No!" said the boy.
    "This is the price for your wickedness. Where is the toy?"
    "No." It was all he could say.
    "Just like her. Just like your mother."
    His father raised the belt in his hand and aimed at the boy.

    Later, too late, his mother came and combed his hair lightly. She brought a sandwich and tried to get him to eat, but he wanted to be left alone. Finally she left, and Robot Raccoon emerged from beneath his bed.
    "Hey, boy."
    "Hey, Robot."
    "Thanks for what you did. With your dad. Not telling on me. I really appreciate it. I don't want to