Most of the other boys were laughing now, too, but quietly, as if they didn’t want to miss Luke’s answer.

Luke hesitated. He’d heard those words before: Rolly had called him an exnay and a fonrol, and someone had called him a lecker at dinner. Maybe they were from that foreign language the short, fat teacher had been speaking. Luke had no idea what the words meant, but he could tell that they were probably bad things. Thanks to Matthew and Mark, he could spot a setup.

Luke shook his head.

The jackal boy sighed in exaggerated disappointment.

“Broken already,” he said. He stood up and knocked his fist against Luke’s side the way Luke had seen his father tap on the engine of broken tractors or trucks. “You just can’t get good junk nowadays.”

Luke pulled away He stepped toward his bed.

Jackal boy laughed again.

“Oh, no, not so fast. Permission, remember?. Say, ‘I am your servant. 0 mighty master. I shall do your bidding forever. I will not eat or sleep or breathe unless you say it is to be ~

The boy moved between Luke and his bed. The others leaned forward, menacingly. Like a pack of jackals, Luke thought.

Jackals were nasty, vicious animals. Luke had read a book about them. They tore their prey limb from limb sometimes.

These were really boys, not jackals, Luke reminded himself. But he was too tired to fight.

“I am your servant,” he mumbled. “I–I don’t remember the rest.”

“Why do they always send us the stupid ones?” the jackal boy asked. He looked down at Luke. “Bet you don’t even know your own name.”

“L–Lee,” Luke whispered, looking down at his shoes.

“Lee, repeat after me. ‘I—’”

“I—”

“Am—’”

“Am—”

The jackal boy fed him each word and Luke, hating himself, repeated it. Then the boy made him touch his elbow to his nose. Cross his eyes. Stand on one foot while reciting, “I am the lowest of the low. Everyone should spit on me,” five times. The lights flickered and went out in the middle of this ordeal, and still the jackal boy continued. Finally he yawned. Luke could hear his jaw crack in the dark.