"Up! Up! Wake up, Jimmy!"
Jim was jostled awake by the sound of Poquito's off-key singing as he bounced up and down at the foot of the bed. Startled (and more than slightly traumatized by the sight of the alien in footed pajamas on the bed) Jim jumped up in surprise, lost his balance, and slipped over the side of the bed onto the floor.
"Poquito!" he yelped from amidst a tangle of bed sheets. "How did you get in here?!"
Poquito sat on the bed simpering, the mattress still vibrating. "Mrs. Hawkins! She tolds me to wakes you up for school. Papá left early to set up shop." Poquito's blue eyes twinkled. "School, Jimmy! My first day! Isso excited…" he squealed, clapping his paws.
Jim raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't you have done it a little more gently?"
"'Gently'?" Poquito repeated, face blank. "No comprendo."
Jim rolled his eyes and sat up. "We've really got to work on your English… come on, we'll be late for school."

Jim stood outside the door to the inn, schoolbooks tucked under his arm. At his feet the maroon feline sat bored, ears flicking and huge eyes half lidded. She was cleaned up a bit since the previous day; Jim and Poquito had washed the cat in the sink when Sarah had refused to let the filthy creature run loose in the house. Both were perhaps washed more than the cat was. The kitten seemed to have taken an immediate attachment to Jim and would follow him everywhere, constantly mewling and trying to capture every bit of attention and praise she could possibly catch. Jim had given up on ever shaking the kitten off, and just looked down at her with a sigh. He shivered in his jacket next to Poquito, who still looked as if Christmas had come a few weeks early.
The door opened and Jim looked up to see his parents embrace farewell; Leland was dressed for the mines. Sarah pulled away and looked at Leland's face with concern. "Are you all-right? You look like you might be getting ill…"
Leland rubbed his eyes. "I'm fine, Sarah, just a little tired… don't worry, I'll be back tonight."
She smiled. "I'm holding you to that, you know," she said as he crossed the threshold, shoulders slumped. He didn't even look at the three youngsters as he walked past, heading straight for the docks. Sarah glanced at the disappointed look on Jim's face and bit her lip.
"Leland!" She called after him. He hesitated. "Will you please take Jim and his friend to school today?"
Jim's heart leapt as Leland spun around, gaping at his wife. "But-"
"Just this once."
Leland seemed to struggle to find some excuse, then sighed and waved to his son. "Come on, then," he muttered as he turned to his longboat once more. Jim felt his chest swell up in excitement as he clutched his schoolbooks and followed his father, Poquito and the kitten tagging along. Looking behind him for a moment Jim, felt as if he had two pets instead of one.
"Ooo, a boat ride!" Poquito yipped. The little feline mewed in agreement. "I likes boats. Do you likes sailing, Jimmy? I do… I remembers this one time with my abuelo, Pedro…"

Leland found it difficult to concentrate as he cast off the little boat. His arms felt weak and his movements sluggish, and if he tried to move too quickly his vision would haze or blacken, leaving him blinking. Rather unintentionally he found himself explaining things to his son off-hand: how to work the sails, how to power the small engine tacked on the end of the craft, how to handle the steering and thrusters. He didn't notice the rapt attention the young boy paid as he clung on to every word and went over every action in a string of questions - much to Leland's amazement later as he found Jim easily handling the small craft on his own.
"You catch on quick!" Leland observed in astonishment as Jim adjusted the solar sails, the longboat lifting high above the docks with the thrusters. The boy blushed at such a compliment and couldn't keep himself from grinning. He was nothing short of elated, finally having the attention of the father he worked so hard to impress.
Poquito was clinging to the side of the boat, peering over the edge at the ground far below. From here they could see down the hill to the little hamlet below, clutching to the edges of a deep ravine. Ships of various types hovered and bustled around the ports. It was another dreary, overcast winter morning, and the landscape was hazy with fog. The chill breeze swept the travelers and filled the sails, and the craft faintly hummed with the warm pulse of energy. The kitten scurried up to peer over the side of the craft, took one look at the height and gave a sort of choked cry, sliding down onto the seat and shivering.
The moment could have lasted forever for Jim; but time was out of his young hands, and soon they were hovering on the outskirts of the grassy ball field next to the school. The two children climbed over the edge of the longboat and jumped to the ground, clutching their books. With a mewl of protest the little kitten scrambled over the edge and leapt after them, not wanting to be left behind. They waved good-bye as the longboat lifted off again and Leland soon disappeared. Poquito tugged on Jim's sleeve anxiously and two set off across the field to the schoolhouse, the kitten tagging along behind them. The grass was withered and the ground cracked from the season, and the frozen dirt crackled beneath their shoes as they walked.
Students of all ages were playing outside the schoolhouse, secretly wishing class would never start. Like the mines, the one-room schoolhouse seemed to be in a state of neglect. The play equipment squeaked and the paint chipped. Most of the children were the same frog-like species that often stayed at the Inn, but there were a handful of various other alien species and a few humans as well. The schoolteacher was one of these; she was a tall young woman with red hair pulled back beneath a bonnet. She smiled at Jim and Poquito as they came up.
"Good morning, master Hawkins," she greeted Jim.
He blushed. "G'morning, ma'am."
She noticed Poquito grinning next to Jim. "Oh, hello… are you new here?"
Poquito nodded. "Sí, senorita! My name is Poquito Riley; I joinings Jim here at his school."
She winced a bit at his accent and grammar, but kept smiling. "I see… well it is nice to meet you, Poquito! Is this your pet?"
Jim shook his head. "No, she's mine."
"Ohh," she said, bending down to look at the golden-eyed kitten. "She's… adorable… what is her name?"
"Patches."
"'Patches'? Whyever did you name her that?"
"'Cause that's what Poquito had all over him after we gave her a bath," Jim said with a grin. Poquito scowled for a moment.
She laughed. "Well remember, Jim, there are no pets allowed in the schoolhouse, not after that incident when Samson tried to bring a mantabird to class… you'll have to leave Patches outside."
"Yes, ma'am." Jim dragged his friend away to the back of the schoolhouse, where the other children were playing. The older children were clustered around the wall of the building, talking; there weren't many teenagers or older children at the school. Most teens who lived in Benbow had families with some trade, or fathers who worked at the mines; so most could not attend school, for they usually would enter the trade or start work at the mines at a young age to support their family. Jim looked on the older kids with mixed admiration and fear; fear of growing up into that world and leaving all his childhood dreams behind. He shook himself and ventured cautiously to the play structure and the swing set, where the younger kids were. While Jim in comparison to others of his age was rather quiet, he was still open and friendly with other kids, having no reason not to be. Poquito, being a new face on the playground, was awarded immediate attention; the other kids all stopped what they were doing to look him over or run up and bombard him with questions.
All the excitement soon caught the attention of a trio, who came swaggering over to see what the fuss was about. The other children darted out of the way as the three approached. Patches, who was at Jim's heels as usual, saw them and the fur on her back began to rise. All three were perhaps only a year or two older than Jim, but carried themselves as if they were some of the older kids. Two of them were human boys; one with violent green eyes that twinkled maliciously in his piggish face, the other covered in freckles. The last was a tuskrus, a heavy-set alien with muscular arms and tentacles for legs. The tuskrus seemed rather removed from the other two, arms crossed.
Jim took a step back apprehensively as the green-eyed boy, apparently the ringleader, stepped up to them. Poquito was hardly intimidated; he just gave the three a friendly smile. The boy smiled back, but it was an entirely different sort of grin. "Hey, Hawkins," he said to Jim. "Who's the new kid?"
Jim shifted uncomfortably, but Poquito spoke up for himself. "Poquito Riley. And you?" he said cheerfully, holding out a paw to shake.
The boy looked at the paw as if something diseased. "Riley, eh? What's your father?"
"My father?"
"Yeah, densadron. You know… banker, blacksmith, miner…?"
"Oh! You means his job! Papá works metals in his shop… a 'blacksmith'?"
The boy shrugged. "That's not too bad… at least your father isn't a miner," he said with a sidelong glance at Jim. Jim flushed but said nothing. He finally took Poquito's hand and shook it. "I'm Samson, by the way. Freckle-Face here is my brother, Thomas. Our father owns the bank in town. And this is Bleacher." He pointed out the tuskrus who was hovering on the edge of the conversation, expression indescribable.
Poquito blinked. "'Bleacher'? Why is he called that?"
"'Cause he bench-presshed shome kid into one lasht year," Thomas replied, who seemed to have a slight lisp with his buckteeth.
Poquito and Jim both looked at the tuskrus rather uneasily, who seemed to grin at the memory. Patches hissed.
Samson jumped back in surprise at the maroon kitten. "What is that?"
"She's my kitty. We found her yesterday," Jim spoke up.
"You found it? You couldn't afford to buy a pet so you took in the ugly thing?"
Thomas laughed. "It looksh like a burnt gill-rat!"
"It probably has all sorts of diseases… hey, maybe if you're lucky you'll catch one, Hawkins!" Samson added.
Jim's cheeks burned and he sunk into his jacket a little. Poquito glanced at him, unsure what to say. Patches bristled, pupils wide.
Samson stopped laughing and shook his head. "We're wasting our time with these scrats, guys. But listen, Riley; I wouldn't hang out with wimpy riffraff like Hawkins here. He probably couldn't afford it," he said with a smirk as he turned his back on them, the other two following suit.
"Shee you in class, Hawkinsh!" Thomas called back over his shoulder.
The three stood watching them until they were on the other side of the playground. Jim's shoulders slumped and Patches' fur relaxed vaguely. Poquito just looked bewildered. "I do not understand, Jimmy," he said, all the bounce taken out of his voice. "Was it something I said?"
Jim shook his head. "No, Poquito. It's not you."
"Oh." He paused. "They don't seems to like you much. Can I help?"
"No… no, you can't help. Don't bother," Jim muttered as he started to trudge off, head hung slightly. Poquito looked after him in confusion, and Patches mewled plaintively. The school bell rang and the children left their games and began scuffling to the front of the building, chatting and gibbering as they clutched their books, oblivious to the tears shining on Jim's face.