At this point, my cousin Carlton came running out of 3rd Grade. He's small and got a delicate little baby black face and is kinda cute I guess, but he bugs the _s_h_i_t_ out of me by going on and on about Sister Edna and the brownie points he's earned and how he's on the honor roll, yak yak yak.
We pile into the car. As he is our guest, Demetrius is in the front seat with Paw, but Paw doesn't bother to make small talk with him. As far as Paw is concerned, little boys are meant to be seen and not heard. Demetrius is no longer smiling, but even though I can only see the back of his head, the shaved little head and soft black neck of my _f_u_c_k_ buddy, I still know that he has a concealed smirk on his face as he sits in the front. He is getting a kick out of knowing that I am going to be getting a whupping pretty soon.
Meanwhile I am sitting at the back of the car, sweat pouring down my face; my stomach churning. It's been a whole month since I've had my last whupping and I remember every horrific detail. Meanwhile this little _f_u_c_k_er Carlton is yakking on and on.
Suddenly, Paw interrupts. "Carlton," he says. "Micheal has been acting up, and he is going to get a whupping. You are going to assist me."
"Oh yessuh," says Carlton a grin of delight crossing his baby features, gleaming white teeth in that rich chocolatey black face. I know that he always gets a kick out of seeing his big cousin humiliated. And I know that by tomorrow every little kid in the 3rd Grade will know every detail of my humiliation, including that sadistic cunt Sister Edna. She's no mean hand at whupping herself. I remember being slapped, being hit topside the head, and having my knuckles rapped regular when I was a rugrat, nomesain? But then again she is always willing to get lessons of techniques in torture from the parents. The modern Church is far more willing to learn from the laity.
"Oh suh. Can I help also? Please suh," wheedled that bastard Demetrius.
"No," said my father curtly. "You not family."
I sank further down into my seat, feeling a hot blush of shame rising up my face from my neck. One of the disadvantages of being high yaller is that blushes show (in a way they don't on a real dark black face), and Carlton snickered with pleasure at my obvious discomfit.
We reached the house, and I half-heartedly went through the pretense of opening my gifts. My mind was preoccupied with the whupping to come. Demetrius was being playful and silly as usual, but I could pay him no mind, nomesain? My mind was too full of the whupping to come.
Demetrius, Carlton, and I went up to my room. Demetrius and Carlton were playing with one of my computer games when I heard the phone ring downstairs. There is an extension phone in my room left from the time when Mama's sister was visiting. I shouldn't really listen in to conversations, nomesain? But I sometimes do. So, I picked up the receiver. It was Demetrius's mama.
Paw says, "Oh Mrs. Fenix. Would you mind picking up Demetrius a little early? Even though it's Micheal's birthday, I'm afraid I'm going to have to discipline him. The child has been doing extremely poorly in Math and lying to me on top of it."
"Oh certainly, Mr. Brass. Thank heavens Demetrius is completely candid with me."
"Well. . ." says Paw, and since he's a gentleman there's not a trace of irony in his voice when he adds. "The principal wanted you to know that Demetrius is failing Math too, and he has not been returning progress notes that have been sent to you either."
"Oh dear no." Great disappointment in the young woman's voice. For a moment, I suddenly felt sorry for her, nomesain? It's sometimes hard for someone my age to even think of adults as being human like us, having feelings and stuff, nomesain? But she sounded as disappointed as Demetrius did when he discovered I had eaten the last slice of pizza while his back was turned.
Then, she continued slightly hesitantly, "Er Mr. Brass. May I ask you a strange favor."
"Yessum," gruffly.
"I have been trying the latest behavior modification techniques with Demetrius, but they have not been effective at all. My father urges me to physically chastise him. Well he uses that awful word "whup" that people of his generation use. But I just cannot bring myself to do that. And I fear that Demetrius's father has left us. He was no role model for the boy."
I had to conceal a grin. The rumor, one that Demetrius furiously denied, was that Mr. Fenix had a predilection not just for hos but for those suspicious kinda hos who had bulges in the wrong places. The kind of girls who gave you nasty surprises when you looked extra close at them in the bright light if you nomesain? The kinda girls who might be butch Charlotte by night, but pale, weak pansy Charles by day if you nomesain?
"Well Mr. Brass. Is there any way when you chastise Micheal that you could chastise Demetrius as well? I know that Demetrius looks up to you."
Paw: "Well M'am I have no problem. Helps give me some exercise, nomesain?" Little chuckle but Mrs. Fenix's shocked silence made Paw realize the jocularity was not appreciated.
In a more somber tone, "I want to be clear, though. I don't pull no punches with Micheal, nomesain? Some people might say I'm pretty severe, nomesain? I don't want you telling me later that I've been too rough with Demetrius. No lawsuits, nomesain? No cries of child abuse, nomesain?"
"Oh no, Mr. Brass. I trust you."
"I believe in shaming them, nomesain? My Paw shamed me before whupping me and after whupping me and his paw before that. The shaming is even more of a learning tool than the board or switch. Do you mind Demetrius being shamed by someone outside his family?"
"Oh no, Mr. Brass. It takes a village to raise a child."
I was like gonna retch, nomesain? Someone has to put that _f_u_c_k_ing cliché out of its misery. Every time some god_d_a_m_n_ed adult wants to poke her nose into us kids' lives they trot out that it takes a village to _f_u_c_k_ a child crap. Two months ago I got a hell of a whupping because the frustrated old bitch who lives next door told Paw she had seen me smoking. The only reason she did it, she said piously, was that it takes a village to raise a child. Well let me tell you. It took no village to whup a child. No sirree Bob. It was just Paw and me and snickering Carlton and the swish of the switch and crack of board meeting shuddering golden brown ass cheeks. It was a show that a village may have paid tickets to see. It was a show that a village may have paid tickets to take part in. Three whups for a dollar. But it took no _f_u_c_k_ing village to get this child his whupping, just some old frustrated cunt.
Anyway, now in the middle of my panic at my impending whupping, there was a certain amount of glee. Demetrius was going to be getting it too. We'd see who was smirking now.