Maya and the Robot: Chapters 10–17

Dr. Jacqueline Yazzie (Diné) is a Professor of Robotics at Stanford University and the director of the Center for Innovation in Personal Robotics.

“I mean, can you imagine him in gym class? He would annihilate everyone in dodgeball.”

“Exactly!" I said, exasperated. “That’s why I need him. To help me! And to be my friend.”

He was the tallest, burliest kid I had ever seen in the fifth grade. He looked like a football player.

Had Elijah seen me stewing before he came over?

Could everyone tell how frustrated I was?

Why did he want to talk to me, anyway? I stood up straight, trying my best to act normal and just stroll casually toward the door.

“Just sharpening my pencil.” She brandished the pencil in the air and walked away toward the sharpener, my book tucked under her arm.

The next day, after I begged Mom to take me to the library, I stumbled through the door to our apartment with so many audio CDs that my arms were aching. The librarian had been surprised that I wanted them or that I even knew what they were. “Everyone uses those language learning apps these days,” he lamented.

This is truly remarkable and may mean that Ralph could win some prizes and awards for robotics design.

If I could have a cool young robot scientist from my own neighborhood as a mentor, I wasn’t about to miss out.

“I think you being there is enough,” Daddy had said solemnly. “Just be respectful and you’ll be fine.”

He seemed more important somehow, moving with a confidence I hadn’t seen, his head up high as he surveyed the people around him.

I had built a model volcano connected to a heart rate monitor, and I planned to ask people a series of hard math questions. If the person wearing the monitor got stressed out or scared, the volcano would spill over. That part was a little bit of a gimmick, I admit.

My hypothesis was that as the math questions increased in difficulty, people’s hearts would beat faster.

Ralph was less likely to cause a commotion or distract anyone amidst the mice in cages, Mentos in Pepsi bottles, and potato cannons.

At school, the cafeteria was bustling with activity.

The other judge had a necktie on, with a pattern of little atoms on it. My kind of crowd, I thought. I sprang into presentation mode.

The judge with the purse was listening intently, but the one with the cool necktie seemed distracted.

“And that’s another thing! This robot! Surely you need some sort of...license or something for him. I’m going to tell your parents that I think he’s a danger.”
When she said that, I lost my composure. “No!" I cried out.

“Oops. Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

He’s not supposed to do something unless you tell him to do it. Like a smart phone. So normally saying ‘throw food’ should not make him throw food. That would be very inconvenient, if you think about it.

“Ralph, what’s the status of your voice command function?”
VOICE COMMAND KEYWORD DISENGAGED.

Without me there to re-establish the voice command, he must have gone haywire—especially in a noisy cafeteria with lots of loud voices chattering at once.

There were harsh scratches around the panel, as though someone who didn’t know how the latch worked had tried to pry it open with keys or a pen or something sharp.

I gave up fighting MJ and Jada and slumped into their arms, defeated.

You know, Maya, I bet my dad can fix this in the auto shop. It’s not too different from scratches on a car. He can buff it out.

When I spoke again, I tried to muster up the most confident voice I could.

Ralph can provide support with household tasks, such as dishes and cleaning. He also has a number of notable features that make him unique.

She sauntered up, looking at the table.