Purity

I’m trying not to doze off in Safety class when suddenly Principal Starmer yanks open the door and comes barging in.

Instantly, we're all on high alert, sitting up straight in our chairs.

“Principal Starmer?” says Mr. Hoskins with a hard gulp, clearly just as startled as we are.

“It’s all right, it’s all right,” said Principal Starmer, striding over to the front of the class, an ominously pleased look on his face.

He glances behind him at the diagram on the chalkboard, frowns for a second, and then looks back at us. Even though I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong, my pulse is racing.

“Listen up, boys,” says Principal Starmer, his gaze like a searchlight as it seeks out each one of us for one brief, terrifying moment. “Or rather I should say, young men. You’re all turning 13 soon, aren’t you?”

None of us dares answer that question, but Mr. Hoskins nods, which seems to satisfy him.

“Very well. I have some exciting news,” says Principal Starmer. “Congress finally got off its lazy ass and passed the long-awaited amendment to the Suzanne Collins Act. As a result, the federal government will release funding for the new Purity Band program. Thanks to a few well-placed phone calls, I managed to get this school fast-tracked.”

He’s looking around at us as if we’re supposed to respond in a certain way, but I have no idea what he’s talking about. I mean, yeah, I’ve heard my parents mention the topic at the dinner table a couple of times, but I’m pretty foggy on the details.

“Seriously? You young men should be applauding this wonderful development,” says Principal Starmer, scowling at us. “The Purity Band is the next evolution in keeping you children safe from predators!”

“Ahem,” says Mr. Hoskins, clearing his throat. “Perhaps you could explain what the Purity Band program is, sir, as it’s not a topic we’ve had a chance to, uh, discuss in detail here in this class.”

“Seriously?” says Principal Starmer with a snort of derision. “Fucking shit, Bob. What are we paying you for? Very well, all right, how can I explain this without violating the law? Okay, so you boys know how you all were fitted with Amber Alert bracelets when you were five?”

I nod. This part, at least, is familiar territory. Every kid in the country gets an AA bracelet when they turn five that has a transmitter inside. This way, the government has a way to track you in case you get abducted.

“Okay, well, the Purity Band is also something you wear, but not on your wrist,” says Principal Starmer. “It, ahem, goes around your censored.”

At that word, a bunch of us let out a little gasp, but not me. My dad sometimes gets a bit carried away if he’s had too much wine at dinner, and he does not hold back with the rough language. My mom doesn’t like it, but my dad thinks that I’m already treated like a baby enough as it is and that hearing a few off-color words won’t hurt me.

“No need for all the long faces, boys,” says Principal Starmer, jutting out his jaw. “This is for your own good. Once it’s fitted and calibrated, it’ll protect you from ever having to deal with an inappropriate reaction. Because we can’t have that, can we? No, sirree.”

This time, there’s a deathly silence as he looks around the room. We’ve all been schooled way too well to know that you never risk giving a response whenever dangerous topics like that are brought up.

“All right, well, I really was expecting more enthusiasm from you boys,” says Mr. Starmer. “But hey, I guess I’m just wasting my fucking time trying to run this school, huh? I mean, who gives a shit if I’m trying to protect you, right? Is that what I’m fucking hearing?”

I can see Mr. Hoskins’ Adam’s apple bob up and down, and that’s when I realize he’s as nervous as I am.

“Fine. Well, guess what? You ungrateful bastards will be getting an informational pamphlet soon that you can take home and share with your parents,” says Mr. Starmer. “And then you’ll each be called down to the nurse’s office one by one to have your Purity Band installed. My advice is to keep yourself nice and clean down there in the coming days, boys, to avoid any embarrassment.”

“Ah yes, thank you, Principal Starmer,” says Mr. Hoskins, getting to his feet. “Very informative. We’re all looking forward to this important step forward in protecting the innocence and youth of today.”

“Damn skippy,” says Principal Starmer with a sneering grin. “Okay, any questions?”

I wish he would leave already, but then Mikey foolishly raises his hand, causing me to inwardly groan.

“Yes, go ahead,” says Principal Starmer.

“Um, excuse me, sir,” says Mikey. “But is this new Purity Band program optional? I’m asking because my pastor was discussing the topic last week at church, and he said...”

“What’s your name, son?” says Principal Starmer, cutting him off.

“Uh, Mikey,” says Mikey.

“Well, Mikey, I’ve got some news for you,” says Principal Starmer, swooping down on Mikey’s desk until he’s towering over my classmate. “I don’t give a shit what your booger-munching pastor has to say on this matter or any other, am I making myself crystal fucking clear? In America, we believe in the separation of church and state, Sonny Jim.”

“I know, sir, but...” says Mikey.

“But nothing, you retard!” shouts Principal Starmer, hauling back and delivering a vicious slap to Mikey’s face, causing his head to jerk back. “Safety first! Safety first! That is the mandate the school board gave me, and so help me God, I will protect each and every one of you. And if that means making sacrifices so you all get Purity Bands, then so be it.”

I flinched in my seat when Principal Starmer hit Mikey, but I’ve seen enough of his outbursts to know better than to let on that it rattled me, so I sit there quietly and try not to look at the ugly purple mark I can see on my friend’s cheek.

“Anything else you want to add, you Bible-thumping baboon?” says Principal Starmer, his face red and his chest heaving up and down.

Mikey, of course, says nothing, and nobody else does either, not even Mr. Hoskins, although I know he’s an opponent of corporal punishment. But Principal Starmer is his boss, so I guess he doesn’t want to risk losing his job.

“Okay, better,” says Principal Starmer, tugging down the lapels of his sport coat. “Mark my words, boys. You are all going to be fitted with a Purity Band whether you like it or not. Any resistance or silliness will result in you getting sent down to cell school. I don’t care who your mommy or daddy is.”

Getting slapped around or punched is one thing, as we’re all used to it, but cell school? That’s a fate worse than death. I shudder as I think back to all the horror stories I’ve heard. Sending us to cell school is an effective threat, and I can see by the cruel smile on Principal Starmer’s face that he knows it.

“All right, then. Keep your eyes peeled for the announcement, boys,” says Principal Starmer. “Mr. Hoskins, carry on.”

And with that, Principal Starmer marches out of the classroom. For a long moment, it’s completely silent, but then people start breaking out into nervous chatter.

I’ve got a million thoughts and questions in my mind, too, but all I can do is look over at poor Mikey and hope that the doctor’s office will give him an ice pack to bring down the swelling. But then Mr. Hoskins taps his discipline stick against his desk, and that quietens us down.

He then resumes his lesson on the importance and methods of maintaining personal hygiene, and we all put Principal Starmer’s announcement out of our minds, at least for a while.