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Ethan Davis stormed angrily into the kitchen side door, his Mom's hand sewn flower print curtains flapping a moment away from the door's brass curtain rod. From there he stomped around the kitchen cook-top island to the other indoors kitchen doorway and then into the long hallway towards his bedroom.
It wasn't fair, it wasn't god-damn fair! Mrs. Staples was a bitch, she always picked on him! A D+ ! She had given the outraged teen a D+ on his English writing assignment, then when he complained, maybe a little too rudely, she had given him a disciplinary slip to go visit Principal Walters. That almost always meant a paddling, a trousers and underwear gathered at your feet and hands clutching at your ankles for dear life, butt busting. Walters didn't mess around either, five to ten, all of them scorchers. Well, he had avoided that part, maybe. Walters had to leave the school on an emergency, but that wouldn't necessarily mean he wouldn't be punished the next day. Fuck!
Ethan slammed his bedroom door shut and flew to his bed, landing on his back, two clenched fists pounding the bed-top in frustration. He scowled up at the bedroom ceiling; it just stared back at him, blankly, like ceilings usually do. The solitude did help some, though, it made Ethan think in the quietness. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to have done the paper at the last minute, hell, the last second, practically.
OK, so maybe he shouldn't have said some of the stuff he had to Mrs. Staples, especially that last part, "you're the worst teacher in this school and everyone knows it!" So what was wrong with that? She was his teacher and that was his opinion, he didn't have to like her, did he? OK, so she caught him flipping her the bird when she was supposed to have her back turned. Bad move, really bad move.
What would Dad think? Screw that, what would Dad do?! That was easy. Paddle swats at school, meant more at home. Dad didn't screw around either, only Dad didn't do the pants down, underwear down, bend over and hold your ankles thing, no. It was a process, a long one sometimes too, usually in family room, doors open, so if little brother Kelsey was home or had one of his friends over, or one of Mom's friends, some lady or who the fuck ever, they could hear and hell, they could watch if they wanted or Dad asked them! Yea, that was a killer; some old lady looking at your stuff, because when Dad swats, you are bouncing up and down and whoever else is there can see every fucking thing.
So, there you are, your bare ass laying across your old man's knees, right at the corner of his sturdy thigh, where it's easy for that paddle to pound you, looking eight years old or worse, ten or twelve. Your eyes are bawling and legs kicking because, unlike Mr. Walters, Henry Davis doesn't just swat your ass, no; it's hard, fast and feels more like the old hairbrush used to.
He smacks you hard and quick, with a totally mind-numbing sting to it; the kind you just want to run and run away from, for miles. And he stops and lectures you and stretches it out, like for a day and a half and if there is a phone call or something for him from work? You have to get up, stand in a bleeping corner and wait, sometimes a long time. Jesus! Freaking police investigations for a suspected serial killer take less time!
Ethan's mind was consumed with the inevitable. His hands flew to his face, both of them, eyes closed underneath like when he was six years old and hiding under his bed when he thought the Boogie Man was out to get him; that always made the Boogie Man go away, didn't it? Somehow, this particular Boogie Man was not going to go away. Finally, Ethan sat up and this huge sigh fell out of his mouth, like the sickening thud of your knees, when they hit the floor after the wind is knocked out of your solar plexus.
Ethan stood up and walked out of his bedroom and down the hallway, paused at the family room door and looked in. The house was quiet, nobody home yet. It was windy outdoors and from the doorway he could see across the room as well as hear the aging backyard swing-set through the closed patio door sliding glass window. The wind was making the old rusty joints creak and the old narrow wood slatted seats twist. They used to be painted a bright fire-engine red, the whole swing-set was.
Not now. The swing set was just five years younger than he was. Dad used to push him as he sat on their bright red new wooden surfaces. Ethan would pretend he was flying like Superman and yell to Dad, "Harder! Higher Dad, come on!" and then at the apex of the push, there was the brief moment of weightlessness, when you thought you really were flying and your whole body was above your own father's and for a split second, you were Superman.
Then Ethan stepped inside the family room and looked to his right. It caught his eye, Dad's paddle. That old thing hung up on the wall, a reminder to him and Kelsey through past years that some of life's mistakes and missteps have consequences, that you can run, but you can't hide forever. And below the paddle? The chair. Like the paddle, the chair was a reminder that the man who sat in the chair, the same man who when you were younger would so lovingly pick you up from the couch late at night when you had gone to sleep watching an old movie with him, and carry you to bed, being sure to kiss your forehead after he tucked you carefully under the covers, was also the man who dispensed discipline in that chair, also lovingly, just not in the way that you might appreciate at the time.
Then suddenly, Ethan realized that he was not alone. It was little brother Kelsey, coming into the home and from the sounds of it, his best friend, Pierce, was with him. He could hear their distinctive voices giggling about something. Great, just great, a potential audience of at least two!
"You look like shit," Kelsey said as Ethan had turned to observe their approach to the hallway from through the home's front living room.
"You smell like shit … "Ethan replied automatically as the two brothers always did, "… hi Pierce," Ethan then said as they passed on the way down the hall to Kelsey's room.
"Hey," Pierce said back to Ethan, but Kelsey stopped the two fourteen year olds' egress, "You in trouble or something?"
Ethan said nothing and turned; unable to prevent all of the external evidences of the internal teen angst he was feeling inside of himself at the moment.
"Yea! That's it! Dad's gonna pound your ass, isn't he!" Kelsey deduced after Ethan did not answer.
"Dad's not home," Ethan said flatly trying to throw his little brother off the scent; but may as well try to throw a pack of airborne blood-thirsty vampires off the scent of an approaching blood bank.
"Yea, well, he will be and then … KAPOWW!" Kelsey grinned and then poked Pierce in the ribs,
"Hey man, wanna see my shit-for-brains bare assed brother get his butt roasted?"
Pierce grimaced, "Ewwww, that's gross man."
"I know, but it's so much fun to watch your big brother cry like a poor little baby boy!!" Kelsey taunted with a cheesy grin and smirk.
Ethan turned. Kelsey's taunting used to make him angry, very angry and they would have verbal fights about it. Ethan had stories he could regale Pierce if he wanted to embarrass his little brother about the way he had carried on when Dad had paddled his bare teen bottom in the near past; but somehow, Ethan just wasn't in the mood.
Kelsey was in fact a bit disarmed when Ethan didn't react, so he stuck his tongue out at Ethan and then said to Pierce,
"Come on man, the show doesn't start until later anyway," and the boys disappeared.
Ethan turned and walked back to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. It was just automatic, he wasn't hungry, and then closing the door to the white upright appliance, sat on a kitchen chair, and leaning over and laid his head sideways on top of his folded arms on the kitchen table wishing the day were over.
* * * * * * * * * *
By the time Dad came home about thirty minutes later, Ethan was back in his room, laying on his side on his bed, having partially nodded off. The knock woke him up,
"Ethan? Can I come in?"
It was Dad. Ethan's chest started to ache and his pulse raced.
"Um, sure Dad."
Dad's voice tones were no sign. Dad was always calm, well mostly. But in the last several years, Ethan had got the worst paddlings when Dad seemed calm and even relaxed, so voice and mood were never reliable. Ethan sat up. Henry Davis walked in and closed the door, then faced his eldest son, hands on hips. Henry's face had this concerned look, kind of probing,
"Got a call from Principal Walters a little while back."
So that was it. Staples had jabbered him off to Walters. Walters had to leave the school and called Dad, so that Dad and he could agree on just how much butt pounding Ethan should get from one or both of them. Great!
"Seems you had a few unflattering things to say to Mrs. Staples."
"Look Dad, I know what you're thinking and I … " but the raised hand meant "keep your yap shut or else," so Ethan automatically obeyed the hand signal just the way you would obey those old fashioned traffic cops who came before traffic light signals replaced them.
"I just want to know one thing Ethan, did you really flash her your middle finger?"
Dad always went to the dead center of any problem, cut out the middle man and trimmed the fat. Ethan sighed, just slightly, and looked up.
"Yes Dad, I did," and did not elaborate or offer any excuses.
Henry nodded, "Well look. Walters left it to us, me and you. He has a family emergency and won't be around school for a week or so."
Small consolation? Maybe, maybe not. Dad was perfectly capable of two-fers. Two paddlings, one today on behalf of Walters and one in a day or so, for dear old Dad. It had happened before and Ethan had hated it.
Ethan then watched his old man silently walk to his bedroom window, part the curtains, and yes, Mom made those too. The fabric print was old bi-winged airplanes with little leather-helmeted pilots with huge funny noses and various colored little scarves blowing back in the wind of their open cockpits, all of it on a light blue background; not very flattering for a seventeen year old boy, but Ethan secretly loved them still and never complained to Mom to replace them.Dad looked out the parted curtains a moment then turned,
"I was thinking. You should apologize to Mrs. Staples, in public, in front of the class and you'll do the dishes, by yourself, for a week. Mom will appreciate that, OK?"
And then Ethan just looked at his Dad, waiting for the coup de grāce, the paddle's entrance into all this and it didn't come! Dad just walked out of the room before Ethan had a chance to respond. Ethan went to the bedroom door that Dad had just opened and closed, entering and leaving the room like some kind of weird specter. Who was that? That wasn't Henry Davis, not the Henry Davis Ethan knew!
Ethan opened the door and almost knocked Kelsey over, who with Pierce was headed back down the hallway, having noted that Dad was now home. He grinned, "Getting ready to get your butt pounded, huh?"
Ethan actually didn't gloat, not a bit, there was something else wrong, he just didn't know what it was quite yet, "No, it's not gonna happen."
"What? That's not fair!" Kelsey scowled and Pierce just rolled his eyes, "Come on, let's go over to Benny's, I want to see that new game he got."
Kelsey sighed, "Yea OK. My god, Dad must be sick or something."
Ethan smiled thinly as his little brother and friend left the scene. Ethan then walked to the family room and directly inside and looked at the paddle and the chair. Just eye candy for the room, that's all it was now, eye candy.
Henry Davis walked in shortly thereafter and saw Ethan looking at the chair and paddle hanging above it. Ethan thought Dad would change his mind, but instead, Henry said,
"Oh, don't think that I didn't consider it Ethan. But you're seventeen, you're becoming a man. Men don't get spankings and paddlings. They get punished in other ways, ways that are a lot harder than a paddling over a Dad's lap sitting in a chair."
Was this a trick of some kind? Whatever it was, was totally out of the blue and totally unexpected.
"What do you mean Dad?" Ethan asked.
Henry walked over to the patio door, opened it up and walked outside. Ethan followed, worried. He had never seen his father like this, so introspective looking, distracted actually, was something seriously wrong? Henry went all the way over to the old swing-set and pushed one of the old twin worn wooden seats as it hung from the twin chain linked supports.
"Remember when I used to push you so hard, you'd fly up and you looked like, well, like a superhero?"
Ethan's face smiled, "Yea, Superman."
"Oh, was that it?" Henry said and looked sad.
"Dad, what is it !?" Ethan said, the smile leaving his face. Henry put on a game face and looked at his older son,
"I got shit-canned from my job today Ethan, just before Walters called. In your terms, I flipped off a customer, verbally that is. He deserved it, but I had no right and he is or was a customer. Richard got wind of it and gave me my walking papers."
"But Dad!? You made that business for Richard, that's not fair!"
"I know. But it's his business, not mine. I refused his offer to partner up last year. Remember? I hesitated and said no. So that's how life really is Ethan. You just don't get a paddling with a lecture and then go on. Sometimes, you get the axe. Sometimes you do not get a second chance over your old man's knee, wiping the slate clean."
Ethan suddenly wanted everything to be how it was. He wanted Dad to have his job back, he wanted Kelsey to be gloating and Pierce with him, watching him getting a beet red butt roasting from the paddle that now hung uselessly, for his purposes anyway, up over the equally useless chair. This was painful, really painful watching his Dad lose a job that he had for well over 10 years!
"I'll be in my study," Henry said, suddenly feeling pretty small and even humiliated in front of his oldest son.
Ethan stood there alone as Henry walked back inside the house. His hand reached out and grabbed one of the old rusting chains holding up the small, narrow wooden seats. He looked down, the red paint was almost entirely gone and Ethan got a big lump in his throat wishing he was young enough to be flying up again, with his Dad's help, like Superman.
* * * * * * * * * *
"What's gonna happen to us Ethan?" Kelsey asked his big brother, his eyes with worry lines and chin quivering some, as he sat on the floor outside of Dad's study, Ethan sitting on the opposite side of the carpeted hallway next to Dad's closed study door. Dad and Mom were inside discussing the future. The voices were low. Mom and Dad never yelled or argued, they discussed things like adults and not children.
Ethan could never remember seeing Kelsey so vulnerable. Ethan reached across the narrow hallway and ruffled the fourteen year olds light tawny hair, the same color as his. In fact, for the first time ever, Ethan noticed how that he and Kelsey were looking more and more alike. They certainly had the same eye color, same nose too. Kelsey had mom's lips, fuller than his and Dad's but not that much more. But they shared the same shape ears, both just like Dad's.
"Nothing Kels, we'll be fine, OK? Dad and Mom will figure it out, they always do" Ethan said, successfully holding back his own chin quiver. Suddenly and with no warning, Kelsey switched sides of the hallway and even sat his butt right next to Ethan's but looked down, fiddling with his fingers, Kelsey's way of hiding from the Boogie Man.
Ethan was startled. First Dad? Now Kelsey? Was there a zombie virus going around? The thought passed quickly away and out of Ethan's mind, then without thinking about it, he put his arm around Kelsey who should have shouted very Kelsey-like phrases such as "get off me perv!" or "Jeeze, go get a boyfriend or something, you're not my type!"
No, instead, Kelsey stopped fiddling and looked up at his big brother saying nothing, just wanting to trust what big brother had to say, hoping he was right. The door opened, "Come on in guys," Mom said and bravely resisted the double-take urge at the sight on the floor.
The news was good and bad or rather somewhat comforting and very challenging. Mom and Dad had decided that it was time for Dad to go into business for himself, a family business really, and be his own boss and not make himself or their family vulnerable ever again to this kind of shock. It would mean belt-tightening, no more extras and lots of sacrifice from everyone.
When it was all over and Mom left the room to make a later than usual supper, it left Henry alone with Ethan and Kelsey. Kelsey was left fiddling again, knees drawn up, looking out for more Boogie Men. Ethan sat forward on the couch, Kelsey right next to him again. Dad looked calm, but he wasn't really. Ethan was scared and felt a little sick, but he didn't want to react like Kelsey in front of Dad. He wanted to be strong, like Dad was trying to be. He just wanted, like everyone in the room, for things to go backwards in time and be like it was before.
"Dad, today, when you said I was going to apologize to Mrs. Staples in front of the class and do dishes for a week, I was really stoked. You made my day. No paddling."
Henry looked up and nodded silently before looking down at his desktop again, elbows on the desk top and his hands gathered up into one clutching fist that furtively served to tap his forehead against. It was hard to think about what seemed like a petty family matter when there were so many and more important things and matters on his mind. But Ethan pressed on,
"You let me be my own man today Dad and I really appreciate that, more than you think. But I'm not ready."
Henry looked up, so did Kelsey. Ethan swallowed,
"I mean, I want to be and all but after today, after all this, I realize how real life really is, and it sucks bad sometimes. It sucks much more to be, well, to be you than me Dad. I know how that sounds and all."
Henry looked up and for the first time since coming home with the bad news, he smiled,
"No Ethan, you're right. Being me sucks right now, that is for certain but just now, just this second I realized something as well. You're seventeen Ethan, but you're still my son, my boy. In some ways, in a lot of ways, I am not ready to give that up either, but, I already let the cat out of the bag, didn't I?"
"Yea Dad you did, but if you like, I mean, you said adults don't get second chances, well, I think they still do. Dad, I want you to … um … this is gonna sound really weird, but I want you to paddle me … you know, keep me as your … your little boy, for a while longer; punish me like I was not ready to be a man yet, please?"
Kelsey looked up from his finger fiddling, stunned. Henry sat back in his chair, not stunned but pleased, very pleased. Maybe Ethan did not know it yet, but his request came not out of the mouth of a boy, but indeed from a man. But who was he to judge, it was Ethan's decision, not his.
Henry nodded, "OK, then you know what to do son."
Ethan felt both a huge weight off of his shoulders as well as that familiar pre-paddling gut ache. He looked at Kelsey who still had his mouth gapping open in silent surprise.
"Come on Kels, you're gonna watch me get my ass paddled. Go get Mom too, she should watch."
And for the first time ever, Kelsey did not want to watch. He wanted to go hide in his room. But he could not. He had to grow up a little too, like everyone else, and he didn't want to be left behind either.
"Sure," was all Kelsey said, rather quietly, and got up and left the study. Ethan got up and left the room behind Kelsey and Henry stood, never prouder of Ethan than he was right then.
* * * * * * * * * *
The chair was put into the middle of the family room, in front of the couch where Kelsey and Mom were now sitting and watching the drama, kind of up close and personal actually. Dad sat down as he usually did with Ethan at his right knee and the paddle, it sat across Henry's knees.
Ethan looked down at it. It was a medium dark stained piece of maple wood, around twenty years old, something Dad had found in an estate sale, a funny thing to have found in that way. Somebody had really taken good care of it, its smooth surfaces pristine and grain pattern attractive.
Mom was, well, Mom at these times. It was her duty to watch her sons taking punishment, see their bare bottoms as she had for years and years when they were younger. Her husband was a great Dad and never punished when angry. It always seemed to clear the air and made things move on faster. Kelsey on the other hand was a completely different boy.
He was not anxiously sitting on the edge of the couch, grinning or smirking his approval. He was sitting back as if trying to get as far away from the scene as possible. His fingers were fiddling if anything, faster, head bobbing up and down. Ethan swallowed and the spoke from where he stood,
"First, the reason I'm getting a paddling is that I was very rude to Mrs. Staples today," Ethan explained the details of his sins to Mom and Kelsey.
"Second, Dad let me off the hook, I mean, he didn't ask to be here, I did. I just … " And then Ethan stopped and looked down at Henry, a little choked up. Kelsey then turned his head into the couch and closed his eyes, not even wanting to look.
" … I just needed things, not to rush around so fast I guess, so I'm ready Dad," and Ethan just unbuckled his jeans, unzipped the fly and pushed his jeans with his white briefs right to the floor at his ankles, he was already bare foot.
Ethan glanced over to Mom and Kelsey. Kelsey's head turned even more into the couch back and his head nuzzled Mom's shoulder, "Kels, I want you to look, OK?"
Kelsey's eyes popped open, but not quickly and then he turned his body and looked up at Ethan, his face still looking distressed.
"OK," was all he said looking up at Ethan's eyes and not at Ethan's nudity.
Ethan then lowered himself over Dad's sturdy knees; Dad had removed the paddle from his lap. Dad's lap felt secure and warm and all the things Ethan always could recall when it was paddling time. Ethan made sure that his position was perfect and then went kind of limp.
Henry was a bit lost for words and action until he remembered that what Ethan was doing was a brave and hard thing and was teaching them all a lesson about growing up. Henry cleared his voice,
"All right, well, you understand why you're being punished son?"
"Yes Dad, I understand and I promise to not do it again and apologize like you said."
Kelsey now turned his body fully forward to watch. No matter that Kelsey's opinion of his big brother had changed dramatically in the past short while that day, what boy can resist looking, glancing at another boy's body about to be punished. Ethan's was much bigger and stronger, even for only three years more of growth and development. There was nothing soft or really boyish about Ethan any more compared to Kelsey's still very boyish frame and fill-out.
"OK, hold on tight!" Dad said, raising the paddle for the first swat. Kelsey's face squinted a little.
Then Henry swung … Thwackkkkk!! Kelsey jumped just a little.
Oh the sting and burn already, from just one swat! Then more came in succession. The sounds of wood striking flesh filled the air and Ethan's face stared to wince and screw up after only five or so really hard swats. Kelsey's hands were now flatly planted under his thighs and he looked at Ethan's face and copied every wince that Ethan did with his own face without even having to think about it.
Dad's technique always moved off center, went up then swooped down to the much more sensitive areas of sit-spot and top of thighs and lit those up good. That is when Ethan would break, even at seventeen,
"Dad! Ouch! Please Daddy! It hurts!" and Ethan's voice cracked and went higher.
"I know son, but you did a bad thing today and you must pay!" and the paddling started to accelerate!
"Daddy! Ouuuuuuuu!!!" and Ethan's voice pitched up again and Kelsey turned his body and buried his face into the couch, he couldn't look anymore no matter what.
Ethan was way too pre-occupied to even notice. This being brave and being a boy for his Dad was hurting just the same as before, no credit, no respite!
Henry stopped after a good torrid twenty-five blistering swats. Ethan's face was wet and red, runny with snot too.
"Are you going to behave young man?" Henry said with parental purpose but much more mechanically than was usual.
"Yes sir! Please stop!" Ethan responded but nobody would hear Kelsey's silent plea for his big brother, shouted out only in his mind.
"Ten more son, just like always, count 'em out please!" Henry instructed. This was very familiar ground. Kelsey turned back to watch, the end was near.
Thwack!! … "One!" Ethan said out loud and Kelsey counted quietly to himself, looking at his big brother's face, his own eyes actually pretty red.
Thwack!! … "Two!" Ethan replied and winced. These slower swats still hurt like hell and on the count went to a very measured ten. Ethan's legs had kicked and his hands had flailed about towards the end, but otherwise, he did not move or interfere in the punishment. At the last swat, even Kelsey yelped, "Ten!!" aloud with Ethan.
"Good, done, let me help you up son" Henry said and immediately reached down and pulled up his son's underwear and trousers. Ethan fastened them and Henry stood and embraced his son. Ethan hugged Henry, very hard,
"I love you Ethan."
"I love you too Dad, and I'm so sorry if I've ever disappointed you."
"What? you're a boy remember? Boys still sometimes disappoint, that's their privilege."
Mom stood now, satisfied that her men-folk were OK, excused herself to get supper on the table.
Kelsey stood, sheepishly looking down, his head down and hands tucked in his jeans back pocket.
"Come here stupid," Ethan said wiping his face a little and reaching out pulled Kelsey into himself and Dad. The three hugged briefly though a little awkwardly and then Dad said,
"Come on you guys, let's help Mom," and so they did, everyone retreating to the dining room and kitchen.
When Ethan went to sit down for supper, the pillow from his bed sat on his chair. He looked over at Kelsey who looked guilty, but Ethan just smirked a little and said nothing of his little brother's tease.
Kelsey helped Ethan do the dishes after supper and the sun began to fall down below the horizon. As darkness approached, Kelsey and Ethan would ordinarily go to their own rooms and do separate things before bedtime on a school night. Instead, they found themselves out in the back yard. Kelsey had followed Ethan out the back door curious why he walked out there.
Ethan was still very caught up in the profound things that had happened that day and had walked in the darkness to the swing set. Kelsey followed. Swings were not in fashion for boys to use by the time Kelsey had come along, but now he sat on the old wooden slats, his skinny butt kind of still fitting. The set groaned and creaked under his weight.
"Push me Ethan," Kelsey suddenly said looking up at his big brother. Ethan smiled warmly, went in back of Kelsey and gave Kelsey a big shove.
"Dad used to push me really high on this, it made me feel like Superman, so do you?" Ethan said after a couple more big pushes.
"Naw, besides, I'm not the one with the red 'S', get it Ethan?! Get it? Red 'S' ?"
Ethan laughed, he got it and replied, "Shut up dweeb!" and Kelsey giggled, "Make me fartface!" and jumped from the swing-set seat.
Henry Davis had gone back into the kitchen and seeing the commotion from the kitchen window to the back yard, he smiled. Ethan was chasing Kelsey in the darkness around the two big back yard trees, both boys laughing. Henry sighed. He felt things would be just fine, after all, there were two men in the family now, not just one. His son Ethan, at seventeen, was his own man.
© Copyright PJ Franklin March 25, 2008
Your comments are appreciated. pjfranklinboy2@earthlink.net
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Main Story PageLast updated: June 15, 2009