Lynn Kendall ran into the La Jolla school, arriving out of breath at the principal’s office. “I got here as soon as I could,” she said. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s David,” the principal said. She was a woman of forty. “The child you are home-schooling. Your son Jamie brought him to school for the day.”

“Yes, to see how he did…”

“And I am afraid he did not do well. On the playground, he bit another child.”

“Oh dear.”

“He very nearly drew blood.”

“That’s terrible.”

“We see this in home-schooled children, Mrs. Kendall. They severely lack socialization skills and inner controls. There is no substitute for daily school environment with peers.”

“I’m sorry this has happened…”

“You need to speak to him,” the principal said. “He is in detention, in the next room.”

Lynn went into a small room. It was filled with green metal filing cabinets, stacked high. Dave was on a wooden chair, looking very small and brown curled up in the seat.

“Dave. What happened?”

“He hurted Jamie,” Dave said.

“Who did?”

“I don’t know his name. He bees in six grade.”

Lynn thought, sixth grade? Then it would have been a much bigger child.

“And what happened, Dave?”

“He push-ed Jamie on the ground. Hurted him.”

“And what did you do?”

“I jump-ed on his back.”

“Because you wanted to protect Jamie?”

Dave nodded.

“But you shouldn’t bite, Dave.”

“He bited me first.”

“Did he? Where did he bite you?”

“Here.” Dave held up a stubby, muscular finger. The skin was pale and thick. There might be bite marks, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Did you tell the principal?”

“She’s not with my mother.” That, Lynn knew, was Dave’s way of saying the principal didn’t like him. Young chimps inhabited a matriarchal society where the allegiances of females were very important and constantly tracked.

“Did you show her the finger?”

Dave shook his head. No.

“I’ll speak to her,” Lynn said.

“That’s his story, is it?” the principal said. “Well, I’m not surprised. He jumped on the child’s back. What did he expect would happen?”

“Then the other child did bite first?”

“Biting is not allowed, Mrs. Kendall.”

“Did the other child bite him?”

“He says no.”

“Is the child in sixth grade?”

“Yes. In Miss Fromkin’s class.”

“I’d like to speak to him,” Lynn said.

“We can’t permit that,” the principal said. “He’s not your child.”

“But he’s accused Dave. And the situation is very serious. If I am going to deal correctly with Dave, I need to know what happened between them.”

“I’ve told you what happened.”

“You saw it happen?”

“No, but it was reported by Mr. Arthur, the playground supervisor. He is very accurate in the matter of disputes, I can assure you. The point is, we don’t allow biting, Mrs. Kendall.”

Lynn was feeling an invisible hand pressing on her. The conversation had a distinct uphill quality. “Perhaps I should talk with my son Jamie,” Lynn said.

“Jamie’s story will agree with David’s, I’m sure. The point is, Mr. Arthur says that it didn’t happen that way.”

“The bigger boy didn’t attack Jamie first?”

The principal stiffened. “Mrs. Kendall,” she said, “in cases of disciplinary disputes, we can refer to a security camera on the playground. We can go to that if we need to-now or later. But I would encourage you to stay with the issue of the biting. Which is David. However uncomfortable that may be.”

“I see,” Lynn said. The situation was clear. “All right, I will deal with Dave, when he comes home from school.”

“I think you should take him with you.”

“I would prefer he finish the day,” she said, “and walk home with Jamie.”

“I don’t think-”

“Dave has a problem integrating in the classroom, as you explained,” Lynn said. “I don’t think we help his integration if we pull him out of class now. I will deal with him when he comes home.”

The principal nodded reluctantly. “Well…”

“I will speak to him now,” Lynn said, “and tell him he’ll stay here for the rest of the day.”