Savage Tales

mother watched as a man in a suit and another man with a camera emerged and came to the front door and knocked.
    "Hello, ma'am, my name is Peter Filk from KNBT News and we'd like to interview your boy."
    "How much will you pay?"
    "Pay? We thought we might do it for free. As a service to the local community, warning the other children—"
    "I think you should pay us."
    "I'll give you twenty dollars."
    "Forty," said Issaqua's mom.
    "Okay," said Peter Filk.
    They set up the equipment in the living room and tried to make Issaqua comfortable. He wasn't quite sure what was going on. Why was everyone so interested in talking to him? What had happened?
    "Okay, we're rolling," said Peter Filk. "Now, Issaqua – that's a funny name – Issaqua – no, I'd better cut that out. Don't want anyone on my back. Start again, Joe."
    "Okay, go ahead," said the cameraman.
    "Okay. Now, Issaqua, can you tell us what happened on that fateful evening last night?"
    Issaqua sat in silence.
    "It's okay, Issy," said his mother. "You can talk to the man."
    "Yes, son. I'm only here to help. I want to know what happened. You were home alone, correct?"
    "Not home alone," said his mother. "There was a babysitter! She just… stepped out for a while."
    "Right," said Peter Filk. "But you were alone at the time of the… intruder."
    "Intruder," said Issaqua.
    "Yes? So there was an intruder? When did you notice him?"
    Suddenly it all came out. Like electricity, Issaqua exploded with verbiage in a way that his mother had never seen him do before.
    "Intruder! He came in! He was at the window! He come in and scratched through the window! He came in. I don't know what he want but he come in! He came to me all white and ghosty. He all big and white and ghosty and I think he gonna kill me. I don't know what he want but he reachin' out to kill me, gonna get me!"
    Issaqua stopped. He blushed.
    "It's okay," said Peter Filk. "And he wanted to get you , as you say. I see. And is there anything else you can tell us?"
    Issaqua shook his head, shy once again.
    Peter smiled. "Well, I think we have enough. If we could just talk with you alone for a while, ma'am, and then do some shots around the house and of the window, that would be great."
    "Of course," said Issaqua's mother.

    When they had left, his mother gave him ice cream and told him he had done a great job. The man told him they would run the footage on the eleven o'clock news and his mother let him stay up late to see it. It aired just as he had been told, and it was so strange to see himself on film when he was here, right here.

    The next day at school the teacher singled him out and made him go to the front of the class and relate the incident once again. She laughed and asked Issaqua why he wasn't as talkative as he had been on the news last night. The other students didn't know what the teacher was talking about but they laughed anyway and Issaqua turned purple and ran out of the class, all the way home, and ate the rest of the ice cream and went on the internet.
    In his email were several messages, and some linked to a YouTube clip of his performance on the evening news the night before. He watched it again with growing horror, and noticed that it had already received over 10,000 views.

    His mother tried to sooth him. "It's okay," she said. "I understand."
    Is saqua kept an eye on the YouTube clip and by evening it had over 100,000 views.
    "I can't go to school tomorrow, Mom."
    "Oh, don't be silly."
    And he pretended to go to school in the morning but instead stayed home and searched YouTube for more of the footage. Already parodies and songs were emerging. The song, "Pedo Boy" had received nearly a million hits.
    He showed his mom when she came home with her boyfriend and he said that they should get a lawyer and see about royalties on the song. They couldn't just use his words like that.
    So a lawyer came to their house to discuss.
    "So you're the famous Pedo Boy," said the man, grinning at Issaqua. " Intruder! Ha ha, my kids love that."
    "You're not to use language like that around my boy," said his mother.
    "Right, excuse me, ma'am."
    They discussed the case for several hours and finally resolved that the lawyer would contact the songwriters of the most popular video and see about royalties.
    The next day more news people arrived. His mother turned them away.
    The lawyer returned that evening and told them what was going on. He also brought a check for over $10,000 dollars from the