A New Teacher 3
Three weeks ago the winter term had started with a rush of cold weather. Pat found that May in this inland city was colder than what he was used to where he grew up in a fast growing small city on the coast. The mornings were crisp and cold and where he had to walk to his parked car, the lawn was hard and white with frost. The old Ford didn't like the cold all that much either. The 6 volt system only just managing to turn the motor over and the vacuum wipers barely coping with the frost on the windscreen.
Pat was enjoying his job and Bob White had told him it showed in his teaching. He had kept control of his classes last term and at the end of the term Mr. Burnley had said that his confidence in Pat had been confirmed.
The boys coming to school in their shorts by walking, by bicycle or bus all looked pale their summer tans completely gone. Their thighs below their shorts, down to the top of their pulled up socks in some cases looked just about purple on the colder mornings. Pat found that in class there was more noise as they settled down.
It was 10am on a Tuesday into the fourth week of term when Pat he had left some material in his car. Setting some work for the class of 4th formers, he left the classroom and went to his car and was back in five minutes. As he approached the classroom he heard a loud bang come from the room followed by many voices talking loudly. Throwing open the classroom door, he found two of his class holding a third bent over a desk at the front of the room, while the rest of the class looked on.
"What's going on here?"
Pat heard someone say, "Oh _s_h_i_t_."
"Who said that."
"Right I will see you three in the library at 3.35pm, is that understood?"
A subdued, "Yes Sir."
"The rest of you have detention tomorrow, where you will write a 250 word essay on "Why I Must Be Responsible". The reason you are all getting detained is because instead of doing the set work you were making a noise. I don't want excuses."
The lesson proceeded quietly for the rest of the period.
It was morning tea time. Pat went to the staff room and had a cup of coffee as he got ready for the next lesson. He saw Bob White talking to Miss Demlar, the head of Math and Science. She was about 55 years old. Pat went over to them and waited until they had finished talking. He explained to Bob what had happened and what he had done so far.
"Well young sir, what do you want Bob to do?" said Miss Demlar.
"Nothing, Miss Demlar, I was just checking that I was on the right path. I am planning to cane the three of them unless they tell me exactly what was going on."
"Do you want me as a witness Pat?" asked Bob.
"That is a good idea. I had not forgotten that I needed a witness I was just going to get someone from the staff room after I had the full story from them."
"Ok, I will see you in the library at 3.40 then Pat."
"Thanks Bob."
As Pat was going to wash his cup, "I'm not the old dragon I'm made out to be Pat, said Miss Demlar. "If you ever want to talk about anything come and talk to me. I have been teaching boys and girls for 35 years and over the years I have learnt that whacking is not always the answer for everything."
"I am aware of that," the warning bell went, letting them know that the next period was about to start, " Can I talk to you at lunch time?"
"That would be nice, I'll see you then."
At lunch Pat and Miss Demlar talked. She gave Pat a lot of practical advice on how to keep control of his classes and what he could use instead of corporal punishment. At the end of the discussion Pat said, "Thank you Miss Demlar for talking to me. I really appreciate what you have done."
"That is alright Pat. I have just given you a different point of view. If a boy needs to be whacked, they need to be whacked. Some boys unfortunately don't know how else to respond, but the message is always think it through before doing it. Don't do it because of pride or because it is a male thing that you want to show that you are the boss."
"Thanks again, I had better get ready for my next class." Pat left her and went to his locker and then to the table with his pile of books.
Afternoon school went on and at the end of the last period Pat went to the library. As he approached the door he heard a cane being used, he paused and when a red faced boy came out, he went in. He found Jim Black the geography master talking to another boy. A cane was laying on the table.
"Oh, Pat, I'll be through here in a couple of minutes."
Pat went to the door and found that the three boys he had told that morning to see him here, were waiting.
"Sorry to keep you waiting boys."
From inside the library came the sound of the cane dusting a seat. There were four strokes. Pat noticed that Neville Gilchrist, the boy who had been held over the desk flinching as each stroke landed.
The boy came out of the library wiping his eyes with his fingers. Pat went back into the main part of the library.
"I'm through here Pat, it's all yours."
"Thanks Jim."
"Do you want me to leave this?" holding up the cane he had been using.
"No, I don't want to show that I have prejudged them."
"Good thinking."
Jim left the library after putting the cane away in the self locking cupboard, that all teachers had a key for.
Pat went to the door and brought the boys in. It was nearly 3.40 and he had wanted to get most of the talking done before Bob arrived.
"Come in boys," he led them to a table, "sit and tell me what was going on." The three sat.
"Suppose you start, Gilchrist."
Gilchrist just sat looking at his hands. He looked at Pat with what looked like terror in his eyes.
"Well what about you Bigalow?"
"Sir, it started as a bit of a joke this morning before school......"
"I see, and you Packham, do you have anything to add?"
"No Sir."
"So I take it that you two ganged up on Gilchrist, and if I hadn't got back when I did, what were you going to do?"
"Don't know Sir," from Packham.
"Why were you picking on Gilchrist then?"
"He let down my bike tires yesterday."
"You let mine down the day before."
"Well two wrongs don't make a right as I was taught when I was going to school."
Just then Bob White came into the library, "Sorry I'm late."
"Boys, Mr. White has come at my request to be a witness if I decide to cane you. Can you think of any reason why you shouldn't be caned now?"
There was no reply.
"Very well Gilchrist you are first," Pat stood and pulled the chair he was sitting on out from the table. He went across to the cupboard opened it and got out a cane. It looked well used as it was fraying around the business end. He flexed it the way his old Headmaster had done.
"Gilchrist I want you to bend over the back of the chair and put your hands on the seat. Don't get up until I tell you to."
Gilchrist, pale and trembling advanced to the chair, and bent over as instructed.
Pat got behind and to the left of him, "I'm going to give you three." He tapped the cane across the buttocks to gauge the best place, raised the cane and brought it down with a loud swish, that was followed by a crack as it met the target. Gilchrist flinched, just about stood up, and then settled back down, his hands on the seat of the chair. The second stroke landed, Pat had made it a little lighter, Gilchrist didn't move. The cane was raised for the last stroke. It fell, this time with Pat's shoulder behind it. The cane landed on the under curve of the buttocks.
Gilchrist let out a yell, "Owwwuch." He was not quite crying.
"Right Gilchrist, you may stand and wait over there," said Pat pointing with the cane to a bookcase. "You're next Packham.
Packham went to the chair and bent over.
"I am going to give you four Packham, I don't like bullies."
Pat again tapped the buttocks lightly to judge the best spot for the first stroke to land. He raised the cane. Down it swept with a high pitched swish and landed right on the line Pat had directed it at. Packham let out a moan. The second was laid on with as much whim as the first.
"Owwww," moaned Packham.
The third lashed down followed quickly by the fourth which landed on Packham's crease.
"OWWWWCH," Packham went.
"If I catch you at bullying again it will be six of the best I can deliver. Now you and Gilchrist can go, I want to have a long chat with Master Biglow."
Sniffing Packham picked himself up from the chair and rubbing furiously at his backside left the library with Gilchrist.
Laying the cane on the table, Pat turned to Bigalow, "As you can see Bigalow I don't like bullies. I have watched you both last term and in this term, but have never actually caught you at being a bully until this morning. I am going to give you six. I want you to come over to the chair, bend the back and reach as far down the front legs as you can."
Bigalow walked around the table, smirking.
"Wipe that silly grin off your face or I'll make it six of the best."
Bigalow bent over the chair as instructed. He had a plumper buttocks than the other two and the flannel shorts were stretched tight. Pat could see the diagonal lines made by his underpants, through the tightened fabric.
Pat raised the cane, and let go with his shoulder behind it. The cane landed with a sound like a muffled pistol shot, buried itself momentarily into the buttocks, about halfway down, so that the ends of the stroke were only protected by the flannel shorts, and not the underpants. Bigalow stiffened but didn't make a sound. The next stroke whistled down, a little higher. The third landed lower just above the crease, that was just about showing through the tight pants. Again to the watching Bob, the cane disappeared into the waiting target.
"OWW," went Bigalow.
Pat made the fourth and and the fifth strokes a little lighter, but they still packed plenty of sting. The last stroke landed right on the crease and was the best of the lot.
"Well Bigalow you may stand up. Bigalow stood with a struggle. He had tears running down his cheeks.
"Next time I catch you bullying, you will get six of the best, am I understood?"
"Ye..yes Sir."
"Get out."
Pat put the cane away and looked at Bob.
"I couldn't have done it better Pat. I caught the little bastard last term, bullying and gave him four. Hopefully this time you've cured him. That last stroke just about brought tears to my eyes, it was a scorcher."
"I was a bit worried I was hitting too hard."
"No, you were ok, come on fill in the punishment book and I'll sign as witness."
Pat filled in the book which was kept in the cupboard with the canes and Bob signed in the witness column.
"After your probationary year a witness in not necessary, but if you suspect there may be a problem, use one," said Bob as he signed along side Pat's name. "Do you want to come home for dinner tonight, you must be fed up with cooking for yourself by now. Kath has a friend she wants you to meet."
At lunch time the next day, Jim Black came up to Pat.
"Scuttlebutt has it that Bigalow was showing off an impressive array of weals at morning break. Good on you Pat."
"I have promised him more of the same if I catch him bullying again."
For the rest of the term Pat didn't need to use the cane again. Word had got around in his classes that he hit hard, but was fair about the punishments. He found that dishing out occasional detentions was enough to keep most of his students in line.