I honestly believe that my Uncle Roy disliked punishing me and my cousin David.
For one thing, he would issue us repeated warnings. "Don't make me have to tell you that again, Jason." Or "You're trying my patience, David." That kind of thing. While some dads or uncles would have hauled one or both of us off to the attic for a session with the paddle with little notice, Uncle Roy would wait until his failed repeated warnings left him little choice. But when once David or I had "crossed the line", Uncle Roy's punishment came rather swift and for the sake of economy usually involved us both in one session.
I went to live with Uncle Roy and Aunt Claire when I was ten years old and cousin David -- a year younger than myself -- and I soon became used to Uncle Roy's unpredictable ways. Well, unpredictable as to what "tripped his wire" but very predictable once under way. Uncle Roy's punishment sessions themselves were almost ritualistic and changed but little until David and I grew older into our mid-teens.
"Okay, boys, that's it. I've had it with you two. I've reached my limits. You'll both report to the attic in an hour." This was the official begining to an incident that occurred when I was 14 and David 13. We had managed to have our bikes stolen from outside the local theater. We failed -- just plain forgot to tell the truth -- to use our chain locks and had just trustingly put our bikes in the bike stand along with perhaps a dozen others. Our two bikes, apparently, were the only ones not secured and were the only ones stolen. We knew better and Uncle Roy had drilled into us the importance of locking the bikes -- even on the front porch of the house at night. We had screwed-up big time.
"Dad?" This was David calling Uncle Roy from a pay phone outside the theater on that memorable day. I was standing next to David, listening to his side of the conversation.
"Well....at the movie.....Kind-a....we need a ride.....Well...somebody took our bikes....Yes, sir, his too....Well...just took them. They're not here.....Yes, sir....Well, in the bike rack.....I'm not sure, Dad.....Yes, the one in the shopping center.....Sir?.....No, sir....Yes, sir." David hung up the phone and looked at me shrugging his shoulders.
"Well?," I said.
"He asked which theater and I told him the one in the shopping center. He said he'd meet us at the Police Station."
"The Police Station?"
"Yeah. It's on the way home anyway. So we got to walk. Let's get goin'. I wouldn't suggest that we get there after Dad. He's pissed, I could tell. But you know him. We can beat him there. It's only two blocks, so let's get goin'."
We got to the Police Station just as Dad was pulling into the parking lot. We all three walked in together. We filled out the paperwork, talked to a cop sitting behind a desk and answered a few questions. Uncle Roy had the serial numbers for our bikes on a slip of paper and gave them to the cop taking our report. Of course, the fact that we hadn't chain-locked our bikes came out during the questions the cop asked. Uncle Roy said nothing at the time.
We drove home. "I'll see you two in my office, right now," Uncle Roy said as we went in the house. It was the first thing he had said since leaving the Police Station.
Uncle Roy was a lawyer and he did a lot of work from his office at the house. David and I had few opportunities or reasons to be in Uncle Roy's office and the occasions when either of us found ourselves in there were not usually under friendly circumstances. This is where he'd lecture us. We both stood in front of his desk now as he sat down and looked at us for what seemed a long time.
"Neither bike chain-locked?" He looked at David first then at me.
"No, sir." David said straight out.
"Well --" I started.
"Just a 'yes' or 'no' at this point, Jason." Uncle Roy interrupted.
"No, sir." I said.
"Okay. Now, either of you have any reasons to offer...any mitigating circumstances?" David was always smarter than I was -- still is, some twenty years later -- and he knew what 'mitigating' meant. He started.
"Sir, I think we just forgot. I guess we were thinking about the movie."
"'Fogot'?," Uncle Roy said. He turned his gaze on me.
"Yes, sir. We just forgot." I said. "I guess we were thinking about the movie."
"Nothing more to say?" There was a long pause. I tried to think of some good reason that we had 'forgot'. I even looked at David for some help. His face was blank.
"Well? Can I take your silence to mean that you both rest your case?" Another pause.
"Yes, sir." David finally said.
Up to this point, Uncle Roy had been very calm. Even in the Police Station, he let David and I answer most of the questions without any comment on his part. He only asked if the two of use were 'ok' right after he met us. We were, we told him. But now he became a little more upset with us.
"I suppose that you realize that -- through neglect or forgetfullness -- you have possibly thrown away some three-hundred dollar's worth of bikes. They may be found; they may not. If they are found, they may be damaged to the point of beiing un-ride able. You heard Seargeant Gross, there is a fifty-fifty chance the bikes are gone forever." David and I stood during this lecture and I was already getting uncomfortable.
"First of all, under the law," Uncle Roy continued, "what you did -- or didn't do -- would be called 'wanton or willful neglect'. In your case, more 'wanton' than 'willful' but that's academic. The insurance company doesn't much care. The insurance is probably null and void. Secondly, you are both without transportation. Boy's your age are too young to drive and bikes are your sole means of getting around -- besides walking. So I guess you two may have a lot of walking ahead of you this summer. Fortunately, we live in a small town. In other words, don't count on me or your mother, or Aunt Claire for you Jason, driving you places. Parents drive 'children' places. Neither of you are children in that respect."
"Thirdly," he continued after only a brief pause to allow David and me to think about how walking isn't the best way to get around. "Thirdly, I have found both bikes unsecured on the front porch on -- I think -- four occassions already in the last couple of months. I've warned you. And you've both gotten stern warnings from me on several other matters in that same time. Right?"
"Yes, sir, but-- " David started to answer. Uncle Roy cut him off.
"Okay, boys, that's it. I've had it with you two. I've reached my limits. You'll both report to the attic in an hour. If either of you have anything further to say before I apply the paddle, you can say it then. And I want each of you to have a suggestion as to how you will help pay for new bikes should it come to that. You can't start school this fall without transportation. I'll want to hear your suggestions first thing. That's all." David and I turned to leave the room. "Oh," Uncle Roy said as we got to the door. "One of you bring a bath towel. Now go to your room. I'll see you in exactly one hour."