This is going to be a very personal post, so if you usually come here to read about my writing or the writing business this probably isn’t the post for you.

My son Alexander is a ten-year-old fifth grader. His birthday is in August, so he’s the youngest kid in his class. He’s very bright (in kindergarten he read through every book they had in the room, so the teachers got him second grade books to read, which he also ripped through), but like most boys his age doesn’t have a lot of motivation about school work. He’d rather zoom through it as fast as he can and go play. I’m okay with that because (a) I was that way when I was his age, and (b) I’m aware of it and make sure he gets his work done anyway.

His mom and I are divorced, and I have since remarried. My ex and I on friendly terms and have joint custody of Alex. She has him for a week, then I have him for a week, with the switch occurring on Sunday nights. He loves it, it works for us, and it’s been that way for four years now.

Alex just found out that his best friend AJ is going to move in June. His dad’s in the military and is being reassigned to Newport News, Virginia. I was getting ready to run him over to his mom’s house when AJ told him about the move. Alex was upset in the car, close to tears, and I felt really bad for him. I told him it was okay to be sad, and that I’d had one of my best friends move away when I was about his age so I completely understood how he felt.

He told me he wouldn’t have anyone to play with. I reminded him about his buddies Devon and Britton and Jack and David. His reply was that he never sees them. I knew he was down and sometimes a person just needs to wallow a bit in their despondency, so I didn’t remind him that the reason he doesn’t see them that often outside of school is that he’s always playing with AJ, and when AJ is no longer around he’ll have more time for the other boys. They don’t live in our development like AJ does, which means I’ll be driving him more, but none of them are far, so I’m okay with that.

Then I asked him a question and got a response that has haunted me since. I asked if there were other kids his age in the development that he saw on the bus or at school. He said there were a couple of other boys in the neighborhood but that they called him “retard” and “fag” and all manner of lovely names.

I was stunned. I asked him if this happened on the bus stop or on the bus. He said on the bus. I asked if he’d done or said anything to them, and he said no (and I believe him because I can usually tell when he’s lying or trying to be evasive).

I hate this. Hate hate hate it. Because there’s nothing I can do. I’m going to talk to him tonight and tell him to just ignore them and hope they leave him alone when they can’t get a rise out of him. But if he says anything to the bus driver that’ll be the same as throwing chum into shark-infested waters. Those two little assholes will be all over him, sensing that he’s “weak.”I’m hesitant to say anything to his teacher or principal for the same reason.

Anyone care to chime in with thoughts on this? Is there anything else I can do that won’t make things worse?