Bradley was taking a welcome break. He looked down from the platform. Still a line! Where were these people coming from? What time was this carnaval supposed to end? He then realized he was unconsciously rubbing the seat of his jeans, and had to confess to himself that he was a little sore back there.
"Coach.."
"Who says my butt hurts?!"
"Gee, Coach!" It was Will. "Because it doesn't!"
"If you say so, Coach. I just brought you a coke."
"Oh. Thanks, Will." Bradley looked embarrassed as Will walked away mystified.
At that moment, Jackson and his dad walked up to the booth.
"Hi, Dean, Hi, Mr Jackson," Will greeted them. "You here for a little fun?"
Mr Jackson answered by taking out his wallet. "Is this enough to start with, son?" He laid a twenty on the counter.
"Oh boy, yes, Dad!"
Will said, "Twenty. Wow. Which one do you want?"
Jackson ran up to the stool where Conrad's paddle rested and picked up the board. "I want the Butt-Buster!" he said gleefully.
Conrad appeared more amused than intimidated.
Mr Jackson told his son, "You go right ahead, Dean. I want to talk to Mr Bradley." He drew the coach aside. Bradley tried to pay attention to him and watch the other happenings out of the corner of his eye.
Conrad bent over, and Jackson delivered one feeble swat after the other. Conrad was counting the licks for him, but at the same time mocking the boy's efforts.
Mr Jackson finished his speech. Bradley said, "I'll tell him, sir. But let me take care of this first." He walked purposefully behind Jackson.
"Here, pal. Grab the paddle with both hands. That's right."
Conrad asked, "What are you doing, Bradley?"
Bradley ignored him. "This is the Butt-Buster, so you don't have to hit really hard to make an impression."
Crack!
"But harder than that."
Crack!
"Better. Now if you'll just snap your wrist right before you make contact, that really makes it hurt."
Crack!
Bradley thought he heard Conrad grit his teeth. He looked down. The bottom of Conrad's butt cheeks glowed pink. I hope the rest of it looks like that or worse, Bradley thought. "How many licks do you have left, Jackson?"
"Five."
"Well, let's make 'em count!" And let's see if you have a cast-iron butt, Conrad.
Crack! Crack!
If anybody makes you howl, Conrad, I want it to be this kid.
Crack! Crack!
"Allright, pal. Let's do this last one right. Pull way back..."
Craaack!
"Awwww, _s_h_i_t_!" Conrad yelped. He jumped up and grabbed the seat of his shorts.
Bradley patted Jackson's shoulder. "Nice shot, kid."
Conrad was still rubbing himself and glaring at Bradley when Mr Jackson again took out his wallet. "I know this event is supposed to be for students only. But Dean looks tired." He removed a hundred dollar bill and put it down. "I would appreciate it if Coach Bradley could finish Dean's turn for him."
Conrad protested, "There ain't no way..."
Bradley interrupted. "You did say there was nothing anybody could dish out that you couldn't take, didn't you?" He wondered how far Conrad's pig-headedness would lead him.
"But..."
"I think you'd better cooperate, Jim. Mr Jackson told me if you take your licks like a good little boy, he won't file a complaint with the school board."
Conrad still seemed worried and uncertain.
"I won't give you the full hundred, Jim." Bradley was almost cooing. "Just as many as I think necessary. What's it gonna be?"
Conrad gave Bradley, Jackson and his father a baleful glance, then bent over.
"Attaboy, Jim." Bradley took the Butt-Buster from Jackson. "I hope I can work this thing. Let's see - I pull it back, I snap my wrist at just the right moment..."
"Ow! _d_a_m_n_ it, Bradley!"
"Shut up and take it like a man, Conrad!"
He winked at Jackson.
Crack!
"Owwww!"
"We sissies can hit hard when we want to, can't we, Jim?"
Crack! Bradley put all he had behind that one.
"Yeow!" Conrad was thrust forward and barely caught himself from falling.
"Hey!" Bradley yelled. "Stick that butt back in the air where I can get to it!"
Conrad reluctantly stuck it back in the air.
Crack!
"Owww! C'mon, Bradley!"
"I'll stop, Jim, but you're gonna do two things for me."
"Name 'em!"
Crack!
"Owww!"
"First, you're gonna stop picking on Jackson. And you can apologize to him right now."
Crack!
"Yeowww! I'm sorry, Jackson! You're a good kid!"
Bradley smiled at Jackson and his dad, who both winked back. "And second - are you listening, Jim?"
"Yes, _d_a_m_n_ it!"
Crack!
"Don't swear. Are those tears, Jim?"
"No!"
"Oh. Well, second - on Monday morning, I want you to call Nichols up to the front of the class - and tear his butt up! I mean good! Right there in front of everybody, including me. Got it?"
"Yes, yes, I got it! I'll even make the little punk pull down his pants so you can watch his butt turn red.!"
"You won't get any objections from me. Now. You've got one more coming, Jim. And I'm going to make this one hurt!"
Bradley lightly touched the paddle to the seat of Conrad's shorts, taking aim. Conrad rose on his tiptoes and clenched his cheeks together, wincing at even that gentle contact.
Bradley was inclined to let Conrad off easy, and give him the slightest kiss with the paddle. Then he remembered that last lick Conrad had given Jackson the other day in his office.
He raised the Butt-Buster, then let Ccnrad have it - good.
"Craaaack!"
Conrad fell to his knees, howling.
"Those are tears, Jim!" He put down the paddle with an air of satisfaction. The crowd was applauding wildly. "I'll see you Monday morning." He was looking forward to showering with Conrad and seeing just what shade of red his buns would be. Not that his own would be snowy white.
Bradley was leaving the platform when Nichols walked up, asking, "Who was doing all the yelling?"
Andy asked, "Did you get the money?"
"No! And Dad even cancelled my allowance another week 'cause I asked for more!" He turned to Bradley and said in his typically snide manner, "Boy, are you lucky, Coach!"
Bradley was about to retort, but remembered what was going to happen to this punk on Monday. And it occurred to him that Conrad was just the kind of guy who would take out anything unpleasant that happened to him on somebody else.
So Coach Bradley gave Nichols a big, wide smile and walked off. Rubbing the seat of his jeans, he headed for the refreshment stand, knowing it would be standing room only.