He drove slowly down the narrow street that ran parallel with the beach, amazed at the number of cars parked along both sides of the street. Carl Johnson was heading to his son's apartment, but there was nowhere to park within five blocks of it. Finally, he drove far enough north, parked his Land Rover alongside the street, got out, and began walking the several blocks northward. He carried his cell phone with him, because Eric's telephone was not working at his place.
Must be a big party going on around here, he thought. As he approached the narrow, two-story house that his son, Eric, rented on the beachfront, he could see from the windows that a crowd of people was inside, and outside on the beach.
Oh, great! he thought, I've got to interrupt my son's party to tell him about his grandmother. As he walked around behind the house, to the beachfront, he noticed that a number of the people in bathing suits, standing and sitting around outside, were acting strangely, or huddled together. Stepping in through the door, into the little living room, Carl was shocked first to be overpowered by the odor of marijuana, and then to see young men and women, also in bathing suits, sitting and standing in the room openly smoking pot, or in stupefied states.
Instantly, he became angry. How could Eric go away and leave his house open for people to come in and take advantage of like this! One pretty young girl came up to him, smiling senselessly, and asked, "Hey, Mr. Gentleman, what are you looking for?"
"I'm Eric's Dad," he replied smiling slightly. "I was hoping that I'd find him home, but . . ."
"Hey, Eric!" she sweetly shouted. "You're Dad's here!"
Suddenly, from around the corner in the little kitchen, Eric's face appeared – eyes widened with surprise, but sporting the silly, bleary-eyed grin that most of the party-goers exhibited. Carl immediately felt nauseated, while his anger intensified.
His son, Eric, was 26 years old, had been out of college 4 years, and had been teaching high school biology and anatomy at Greenbriar Academy, a private school in town. After living at home for 2 years, he had saved up enough and decided to rent a "cool apartment" on the beach, and moved the 25 miles away from his parents' house. Eric regularly visited his folks at home at least once a week, and his parents had only been to his beach apartment a few times – always with advance notice, and in spic-and-span condition. Still Carl and his wife worried, and wondered, about how – and what – Eric might be doing out on his own.
"What's going on here, son?" Carl shouted over the music and idle chatter.
"Ah, ah, . . . Dad, . . . ah . . . I . . . ah . . .I'm surprised to see you."
As usual, Eric was terrible at even attempting a lie, as he fumbled for words.
"Look, son, I came here to talk with you – it's about your grandmother. But this is totally unacceptable. I'm shocked – and disappointed – beyond words. But two things are certain. These people are going to get out of here – NOW – or I'm calling the cops NOW! Then, you and I will have some talks – you best count on that!
Uh-oh! That's exactly the way his Dad would talk with him when he got in big trouble as a kid. Eric was embarrassed and flustered a bit. He tried to take the initiative.
"Listen, everybody. I've got news . . . I mean a message . . . I mean something . . . I need to say!" He began to try to speak up.
"What is it, Eric? Number one or two? You're free to go take care of it, man!" Several people laughed as they piped up with moronic efforts at humor.
Carl's patience ended.
"LOOK, LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! THIS IS ERIC'S DAD! YOU HAVE THREE MINUTES TO EMPTY THE PREMISES, OR I'M CALLING THE JUNO BEACH POLICE OVER HERE! UNDERSTOOD!? NOW GET OUT OF HERE!!!"
Like the fuse of a bomb had been lit, guys and girls began scrambling to pick up belongings – especially incriminating evidence – and exit at once.
"ERIC! YOU HAVE A SEAT IN THE KITCHEN! WHEN THIS PLACE IS EMPTIED, I'LL DEAL WITH YOU!!"
Oh, oh. More of the old, admonitions, reminiscent of younger days when he was in deep trouble.
Ten minutes later, only the mess and stench in the empty house remained. The street outside was completely deserted – leaving Carl's vehicle appearing to be more than a mile away by itself. Still sitting by himself on a kitchen chair next to the small table in the little kitchen, Eric's long, skinny, barefoot legs stretched out before him, as he sat slumped back, shirtless, hair tousled, wearing just his bathing suit.
Eric had been a swimming, basketball, and track athlete in high school and at the small college from which he had graduated. Having stayed active in sports, and in coaching at the high school where he was teaching, he was in great condition: 6'1", lean at 160 lbs, and muscular without being bulky.
At 49, Car was in equally incredible condition. Having worked most of his adult life outside, in the swimming pool and cement contracting and construction business, he was 6'2" and 210 lbs muscular and strong. His son was a slightly lessor replica of him, with deep, dark blue eyes and black hair slicked backward, – although Carl's was showing a tinge of gray.
"Eric!" Carl snapped at his son, who seemed to be pensively preoccupied with thoughts elsewhere. Eric jerked his head forward, looked up, but broke into a stupid grin.
"Listen, young man! I came over here to tell you some pretty urgent news about your grandmother, and I find this – and you like this! Knock that grin off, buddy! I'll tell you one thing, young man – you're going to regret this night, and remember it, for the rest of your life!"
Eric just leaned back and returned to drifting away. THAT'S IT!, thought Carl, and he walked over, along side his son, and grabbed left ear with his left hand.
"HEY!! OWWWWWCH!!" Eric shot out as he shot up out of his chair. "CUT IT OUT! THAT HURTS, DAD!" Carl kept marching his son out of the tiny kitchen, around the corner, and over to the small sofa in the living room.
"STOP IT, DAD!" Eric commanded; but Carl kept him marching until reaching the sofa. Then Carl sat down. Immediately, he reached his right arm up around behind his son's bare back, and then dragging him down hauled him over his knees. Eric's face and mouth ground into the upholstery of the couch.
Because his timing was confused and delayed, Eric was bewildered and slow to gather what was going on. Then Carl shifted his son across his knees, so that Eric was no longer lying on the couch, but hanging face down to the floor, with his legs bouncing off the floor on the other side. Grabbing Eric's right arm, Carl pulled it up behind, pinning it against the bare area between Eric's shoulder blades.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
Suddenly, Eric was shocked into a starker consciousness.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
His Dad's strong hand was laying into Eric's backside with hot, heavy swats that jolted Eric out of his dreaminess and began stoking the fire heating up his behind. He spoke out commandingly.
"THAT'S ENOUGH OF THAT, DAD! WHAT D'YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? I'M A GROWN MAN, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! AUUUMPH! NOW STOP IT!"
"You're going to find out exactly what I'm doing, young man, – and for sure find out about crying out loud!" Carl replied, without letting up on the swats.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
Eric's bottom was stinging and burning as the torch of his Dad's unrelenting swats kept igniting the blazes to his butt. He began grunting and moaning, as he squirmed and twisted, trying to get loose from his Dad's grip. No use. He was caught like a fox in a trap, and the intensity of the spanking was overcoming his dopey stupor.
Whewwhh! He had long ago forgotten what that felt like! Now, each new swat that sent him bouncing and writhing, wriggling and pushing, trying to get away from the pounding fire that was scorching his rear end, brought back the memories of the times when his bottom had been blistered by his Dad in the past.
"AAAAUUUMPHAA! AAAUMMPHAAAA! OWWWAAH! AAAUMPHOWWW!!"
No words or let up from his Dad's pounding of his behind.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
He had to get this stopped right away. He was shouting, breathlessly.
"AAAYAOWW! LISTEN, DAD! UMMPHA! THIS IS RIDICULOUS! OOO-AAA-OWWCH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING! OWWUMAAAH! I'M TOO OLD FOR THIS, DAD! YAIKES-AA-OOO! DAD! DAD! OOOWCHAAUMMMPHAA! I'M TOO-AAA OOOOOOLD-AAAOWWWCHAAA! DAD!"
His wailing was near tears as his Dad spanked him faster and faster, and harder and harder.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMP! WHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMP! WHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMP! WHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAAUMPWHAAUMPWHAAUMPWHAAUMP! WHAAUMPWHAAAUMPWHAAAUMP!
"LISTEN, DAD, STOP! OW OW OW OW!! IT'S HURTING, DAD! OWWW! STOP IT! OOOO-AA-OWWW!!! DAD! DAD! IT'S HURTING! PLEASE!! OOOO-AA-YOWWW! OWOWOWOWWW! AIEEYOWOWOWWW!! OWOWOWEEEYOWWW!"
Now he was bucking and kicking, as his Dad continued to deliver a seemingly never-ending spanking to his behind. Suddenly, he broke down from the pummeling pain in his buttocks and thighs.
"UH-UH-D-_d_a_m_n_ IT,-UH-DAD! OOOO-OWWW! UH-UH-UH-Y-YOU UH-UH-CAN'T DO THIS! AUGH-UH-UH-YEEEOWWW!! YOU C-CAN'T . . . UH-UH-AAAAA-YOWOWOWOWOWWW! DAD-AH-UH-UH OOOOO-AAA-UH-UH-YOWWWW!! NO! NO! PLEASE! STOP! OWOWOWOWOWOWWWEEEE! UH-UH-UH-N-NO! NOOO! OWEEEYOWWW! UH-AUGH-AH-UH-UH-ST-STOP IT!!"
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAAUMP! WHAAAUMP! WHAAAUMP! WHAAAUMP! WHAAAAUUMPP!!!
Wow! That many swats surprised him, coming at once, again and again, speedy and stinging! Quickly he went from yelps and wailing to crying out and sobbing.
"OOAAAMPH! UMMPHAA!! OOUMPHAA!! AAAAHUGH!! AAIIEEAUGH!! OOOAAAAH!! OOAAUMMMPH!!! OOOOAHOW!!! AIEEAAHOW!! CUT IT OUT, DAD! AAIIYEEOWW!! OWAAOUCH!! WAIT! OOO-AHHYOWW!! WAIT! DAD! NOOO-UHAHHHYOW! UH-NO-NO-AHEEEYOW!! STOP!! YEEEOWWW!! STOP! DAD! WAIT!! YOWOWOWWWW!! STOPSTOPSTOP!!! IT HURTS! IT HURRRRTS!! OOOAAYOWEEEYOWEEEOWWWW!!!"
Desperately, he began thrashing and kicking, and begging and pleading through his crying, trying to get his Dad to stop the pounding spanks to his bottom.
"AAA-UH-DAD! YEEOWWW! UH-UH-L-LOOK! OWOWOWOWOWOWWW! I KNOW IT WAS WRONG! UH-UH-AUGH-UH-OWWWCH!! I'M SORRY, DAD! UH-UH OWEEYOWWEEEOWWW-AAAA-UH-UH I'M SORRY! DAD! UH-UH-OOO-AAA-OWWWWEEEE!! DAD! AUGH-AAA-AIEEYOWWWEEEE! UH-UH-UH-I SAID I'M SORRRRY! OOOOO-AAA-UH-NOOO-AAA! UH-UH-AIEEYOWEEOWWW!!"
For the first time, his Dad spoke: "You will be sorry, son. I guarantee you that! Then, without warning, his Dad reached up to the waistband of his bathing suit, and began jerking it down, over his buttocks, thighs, and knees, to his ankles, while he bounced his son on his lap.
"UH-NO-NO WAY!! UH-UH-NO-UH-YOU DON'T, UH-DAD! I'M TOO OLD! YOU CAN'T DO THISSSS!!" Eric bellowed. "OOOONOOOO-AAA-UH-UH-WAAAY-AAAA-AIIUGH-UH-UH-AIEUGH!"
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK!
"OWW! OWOWW! UH-YEEEOWW!! UH-UH-OWWWEEEYOWWW! OOO-AA-UH-UH-NO-UH-OWOWOWEEE! YOWWWEEEOWWWEEEOWWWW!! UH-UH-AUGH-AAA-UH! OWOWOWOWOWOWWW! UH-UH-P-PLEASE!! PLEASE!! AIEUGH-UH-UH-NOOOO-UH-UH-OWEEEYOWEEEYOWWW! AAAA-UH-UH-I-UH-I-UH-SAID I'M SORRY!! OOOOOAAHYOWWW!! UH-UH-HAUGH-UH-UH-OOOO!!"
He was kicking and bucking furiously – to no avail. His bathing suit flew off his feet, landing on a lamp shade, as his Dad continued spanking him faster and faster, and harder and harder. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! He was frantic beyond thinking or speaking clearly anymore. "UH-UH-OKOKOKAY-UH!! DAD-UH! YOU WIN-UH-UH! OWOWOWW!! UH-I-UH-IT-UH-I-UH-WAS WRONG!! OWOWOWOWOWWW-UH!! STOP-AAA-UGH-UH-UH-HAUGH!! N-NOW!! OOOOOO-UH-UH-OWEEEYOWEEYOWWWW!! UH-UH-UH-YEEOWWW!!! OWOWOWWWW!! UH-UH-UH-AI-UGH-UH-I'M SORRY, DAD! OOOOOOO-AAA-UH-UH-OWOWOWWWW!! I'M SORRRRRY-AAAA-UH-UH-AUGH! YEEEOWWWWW! OOOOO-UH-UH! STOP-UH-UH-STOP!! PLEE-UH-PLEEEZE-UH! YEEEOWEEYOWEEEYOWWWW!! I'LL-UH-NEVER-UH-UH-OOOAAA-YOWWW! UH-UH-UH-DO IT UH-UH-AGAIN! AIEEYOWAUGH-UH-UH! OOOOOOOOO-AAA-YOWEEE! I-UH-UH-P-PROMISE! OOOO-AAAA-OOOOOOO-UH-UH-UH-PUH-UH-PLEEEEEZE!! UH-UH-AUGH-OOOO-AAA-UH-UH! YAIEEOWWWEEEYOWWW!! PLEASE-UH-UH! IT HURRRTZ-UH-UH! SOOOOO BAAAD-UH-UH! OOOOOO-UH-OWWW-UH-N-NEVER-UH-UH-I P-PROMISSSE! OOOOO-UH-UH-AAAAAH!"
The strangling sobs began cascading over each other, as Eric collapsed into screaming, wailing, sobbing, choking, gasping, and shaking, and now jumped and bounced with each additional swat. Then, somewhere from years earlier, amidst his sobs and gagging gasps, came bursting forth:
"I PROMISE! UH-UH-AAAUGH! I'LL BE GOOD!! UH-UH-UAGH! I'LL BE GOOD!! I PROMISE!! UH-UH-OOOAAH-NEVER AGAIN! OOO-AAA-UH-UH-DADDY! AIIEEYOWWEEEYOWWW!!! P-PLEASE! I'LL BE GOOD-I'LL BE GOOD-I'LL BE GOOD-UH-UH!! AIEYOWEEEOWWW! I'LL NEVER-UH-UH-NEVER-AAAAA-UH-UH-YEEEOWWW! DO IT AGAIN! DAAADEEE!! PLEASE! OOOO-AAA-I'LL-UH-UH-BEEE-AAA-GOOOOD!! OOO-AAA NOOOO! UH-UH NO MORE!! PLEASE!! NO-UH-UH-NO-UH-UH-MOOOORE! OOO-AAAYOWEEEOWW! OOOAAYOWOWOWEEE! AIUGH-UH-UH-YAUCH-YAUCH-UH-UH-OOOO-AH-YOWWWW! I-AIYAUCH-LL-UH-UH BEEE-AAA-GOOOOD-UH-DADDY! PUH-LEEEZE! UH-UH-AIUGH-UH-UH-UH-DADDEEEEE!! EEEEYOWWWEEEEYOWWWEEEEYOWWW!!! UH-UH-AUGH-UH-UH-UH!! OOOOWOOOO-OOOOWOOOO-OWWWW!!! P-PUH-LEEEZE!! OOO-UH-NOOOO! YEEEOWOWOWWW!! AHHH UH-UH- OHHH-UH-UH! AUGHH-UH-UH! OOOOOAAA!! UH-UH-UH!!! UH-UH-UAGH! UH-UH-OOOAAH! UH-UH-AAUGH!! NOOO-UH-UH-YOWWWW-UH-OOOOOO-UH-OOOOOOO-UH-UH-AAAAWWWW!!"
By the time Carl stopped, Eric had lost awareness of any separate spanks, as the entire blistering left him jerking and jumping across his Dad's knees, eventually surrendering to just hanging and dangling with racking sobs and gasps.
Carl began speaking. "I came over to tell you that Grandma Woodard is going to have quadruple by-pass surgery on Monday, at Preston City General. Mom and I wanted you to join us and follow us over to the hospital tomorrow morning.
"But I'm going to call Mom and let her know that I'll be spending the night here tonight. Then, tomorrow morning, we'll pack you up and go in my car. We'll stop by and pick up Mom, then head on over to Preston City.
"For now, though, young man, stand up and get yourself upstairs!"
Eric was still lying there sobbing and shaking. Carl reached under his son's chest and gently, but firmly, lifted him up to stand in front of him. Eric stumbled and could hardly stand still for shaking and shuddering.
"All right, son, get yourself to bed right away. Tomorrow may be here before you know it."
Stiffly, Eric limped up the steps to his bedroom and collapsed into bed and a deep sleep almost instantly.
Carl telephoned his wife. "Anne, listen, I've stumbled into something pretty serious here at Eric's, and I'm going to stay here and spend the night. He'll leave with me in the morning, and we'll pick you up about 10:30, and then go on to Preston City. I'll leave the cell phone on, in case you need me."
"I'll explain more in detail when I see you tomorrow – when I've got Eric with me. Good night. Love you."
It was completely quiet upstairs after Eric dropped into bed. Carl quietly closed the front door and walked around back to the street, and down to his Land Rover. He pulled up into the short drive behind Eric's Wrangler, got out, and walked back to the house.
He picked up empty beer cans lying around outside and inside. Then, he collected the assortment of cups, saucers, containers, and dishes that people had used as makeshift ashtrays, and soaked them all in the sink. When they were washed, he left them to dry in the rack, and walked back outside to the Land Rover. He took out a dirt-vac and carried it into the house for the morning.
Lying down on the couch, in the dark, Carl stared out the window towards the moonlit waves crashing towards shore. What had gone wrong? Eric knew so much better! He knew he could not leave his son alone, to drift on down into the whirlpool. He would not.
Next morning, Carl woke before 6, showered and shaved in the phone-booth bathroom downstairs, and put on a pot of coffee. A look into Eric's refrigerator revealed some milk, some orange juice, a couple of bananas, and about half of a 12-pack of beer.
After a cup of coffee, Carl took the dirt-vac and cleaned up the tables, chairs, and the floor from the smaller smoking debris. He took a plastic bag and put the bigger pieces of marijuana cigarettes into it – evidence, in case he needed it. He found some lemon scented ammonia and washed down the tables, chairs, counter-top, masking the odors of the previous night. Then he took the evidence bag and the dirt vac back to the Land Rover.
By 6:50 a. m., he had finished, returned from the Land Rover, and finished his second cup of coffee. He picked up Eric's bathing suit off the lamp shade where it still lay from the night before, in his right hand; and in his left hand, picked up a thick, wide, black belt, as he mounted the stairs to Eric's bedroom.
The door was not completely closed, as Eric has rushed to fall into bed and sleep. Pushing the door the rest of the way open, Carl walked in and looked around his son's bedroom. Not too bad, except for the huge pile of dirty clothes overflowing and spilling out of the basket. Carl tossed Eric's bathing suit onto the pile.
Well, he can take that with us and do it himself in his Mom's washer at home. He turned to look at his son, stretched out float on his stomach on the bed, feet and legs sticking out of the quilt that Grandma Woodard had made him 8 years ago when he left for college. His face was buried in the big pillow that he hugged with his arms. Eric was in a deep, sound sleep.
Oh, well. No matter. They had to get going, – and this had to be done. Stepping quietly over to the side of the bed, and bending down, Carl placed his hand on the back of Eric's disheveled hair, and gently shook his son's head, face down in the pillow.
"Come on, big boy. Time to get up," Carl relapsed into long ago, but well-worn, terms that he used to use with his son. No response. He shook his son's head harder and raised his voice. "Come on, son! It's time to get going – NOW!"
Eric lifted his head, turned to squint at him through mostly closed eyes.
"What d'you want, Dad? Get out of here" he muttered semiconsciously.
"You know what I want, son – and what is in store. Now, get up!" Carl barked. Reaching down, he rapidly jerked the quilt completely off Eric. His son's buttocks and upper thighs were reddened-blue from last night's licking.
"ALL RIGHT, DAD! I'm getting UP! Now get OUT OF HERE!" Eric sounded out his sleeping irritation.
Without a heartbeat, Carl reached his left hand down to grip Eric's neck, pinning his face and shoulders to the pillow and mattress. Then, raising the belt, he snapped it 5 times against Eric's battered backside. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
"YEEOWEEEOWEEEOWWW! OWOWOWOWOWOWOWEEEEE!!! YEEEOWOWOWOWOWEEEEYOWWWW!!" Instantly, Eric jerked to his knees, his face still embedded in his pillow under Carl's hold. Carl grabbed the back of Eric's neck harder, directing him off of the bed.
"Get up and go use the bathroom, Eric. Then get yourself right back here for the second session you've got coming."
"N-no, Dad!" Eric began begging as he fully realized where he was, what was going on, and what was about to take place."
"Move it, young man!" Carl commanded as he snapped the belt against Eric's right buttock and thigh.
"OOOO-AAAA-YAAAOWWW!!" Eric bellowed, and jumped out of the room, down the short hall to the bathroom. A couple of minutes later he was back, begging and pleading with his Dad.
"Please, Dad, please! You can't do this! You need to back off, and out of my life! It's my life, Dad! I'm not a little boy – I'm a grown man, and I'm not going to stand for this!" he exploded his defiant retort to his Dad.
Quietly, and flatly, Carl spoke: "No way, Eric. It's never going to happen. As long as you have a Dad, I'll never allow you to go wilfully down a road of ruin and wrong. Twenty years from now, son, if I even think you're touching this stuff, I'll find you and blister your bottom so bad you'll wish you could sit in a bucket of snow! Do you hear me?
"As for standing for anything, don't worry, young man, you're not going to be standing at all right now, – or sitting for a long while later."
Eric started to back away. On the way back from the bathroom, he had momentarily thought of trying to make a break for it – which he considered again now. But standing stark naked before his Dad, that option had little promise. Carl stepped quickly forward, grabbed his son's left wrist, and forcefully yanked him over towards the bed.
Sitting down, Carl again yanked Eric's left arm, this time pulling the terrified young man over the rough levis of his Dad's knees.
"NO, DAD! NOOOO! PLEASE!!" Eric was shouting his pleas.
Once again Carl bounced and shifted his son over his knees, so that Eric's eyes were staring only inches from the floor, his bottom was elevated and aimed, and his bare feet scarcely touched the floor. Once again, Carl pulled Eric's right arm up against Eric's bare, upper back, locking the young man in position.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACKCRACKCRACK! CRACKCRACKCRACK! CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK!! CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK!! CRACKCRACKCRACK!! CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK!!!
The sudden, swift, long volley from the belt shocked Eric's brain. With last night's whipping fresh, and his butt already seared, his tears and crying began immediately. Right away, he was kicking and bucking, thrashing and pushing, twisting and sliding, bouncing and thrusting – trying to avoid the unrelenting bites of the belt.
"OOOO-UH-AAAA-UH-OOOO-UH-DAD! UH-UH-STOPITSTOPITSTOPIT! UH-UH-OOOO-AH-PUHLEEEZE! YEEAIKESEEYOWOWOWWW! IT'S-UH-IT'S-UH-HURRRTING, DAD!! AAAA-UH-UH-OOOO-AAA-UH-YOWEEEE!!"
CRACKCRACKCRACK! CRACKCRACKCRACK! CRACKCRACKCRACK! CRACKCRACKCRACK! CRACKCRACKCRACK! CRACKCRAACKCRAACKCRAAACK!
"AAA-YAUGH-UH-UH-I'LL-UH-BEEE-UH-UH-GOOOD! UH-UH-OOOO-UH-UH! IT'S-UH-HURRRTING!! I'LL BE GOOD, DADDY! UH-UH-DADDY-UH-DADDEEEE!! UH-OOOOO-UH-NOOOOO-UH-OWWWW-UH-UH-AUGH-UH! I'LL NEVER-UH-UH! DADDY! I'LL NEVER-UH-UH-AGAIN!! OOOOO-AH-YOWWWW-UH-UH-I PROMISE!! DADDYDADDYDADDEEEE!!! PUHLEEEZE!! UH-UH-NOOOO-UH-NOOOO! UH-UH!"
Carl calmly lectured his son while he kept the rapid, rythmic snapping of the belt blistering Eric's backside.
"Listen," CRACK! "young man." CRACK! "You" CRACK! "are not" CRACK! "going to go" CRACK! "on" CRACK! "like this" CRACK! "anymore." CRACK! "I'll never" CRACK! "allow it!" CRACK! "Do you" CRACK! "understand me?" CRACK!
"OOOO-AAAA-UH-Y-YES-UH-UH-S-SIR! UH-UH-Y-YES-UH-UH-I-UH-D-DO! OOOO-UH-OOOO-UH-YAAOOO-UH-UH-YESSSSS!!" Eric shrieked his responses, nearly gagging as he choked in uncontrollable sobs and sliding, jerking, jumping with each crack of the belt.
"I'm telling" CRACK! "you" CRACK! "the way" CRACK! "things" CRACK! 'are going" CRACK! "to be" CRACK! "from now on" CRACK! "Eric." CRACK! "No questions" CRACK! "from you." CRACK!
He paused, and Eric lay heaving and shaking amidst torturous sobs and gasps.
"You're coming with me to get Mom and go to be with Grandma Woodard. After Grandma's out of risk, Mom or I will drive you back and forth to Greenbriar to carry out your teaching and coaching duties for the rest of the week. Then, on Friday night, you and I are going to start packing you up, and over Saturday, and move you back home. We will continue to escort you back and for to the school, practices, and games; and once a month, at your expense, you are going to take a drug test. If it comes back positive – or if I even catch you lying, or coming in late – your backside will be flaming fury! You won't even be able to walk or sit down without agony! Do you understand me, Eric?"
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRAACKCRAACKCRAACKCRAACKCRAACKCRAACKCRAACK!!!
Carl resumed, still faster, snapping the belt against Eric's behind to make sure that he got the full message. What his Dad was saying Eric hated with all the anger he could muster – but he couldn't muster much. His bottom was an ignited inferno, blazing, burning, scorching, aching beyond anything he could ever recall or imagine! He could hardly breathe, and he could not control his weeping and thinking. He just wanted for this torment and agony to stop.
"UH-Y-YES-UH-UH-SIR! UH-AUGH-UH-OOOO-UH-UH-OOOO-UH-ANY-UH-THING-UH-UH-YOU-AAA-OWWW-UH-OOOO-UH-YOWWW-UH-UH-SAAAAAY!! UH-UH-UH-AIUGH-UH-OOOO-UH-YOWOWOWWW-OOOO-UH-UH-DUH-DADEEEE! UH-UH-OKAAAY-UH!"
All talking stopped, but Carl kept the lacerating lashes of the belt blistering again and again all over Eric's rear end and inner and outer thighs.
Finally, Carl stopped and sat there for a while, letting Eric hang racked with shaking, sobbing, and muffled cries and wails. After more than 10 minutes, Carl reached down under Eric's arms and began to lift him up off Carl's lap. Eric was nearly doubled over with sobbing, while he shifted first one hand, then another, to touch his excruciating bottom, moving his feet up and down, up and down.
"All right, Eric. Go get in the shower, shave, and get dressed and downstairs so we can get going. And be quick about it, young man! – or we may have second session today."
Eric hurried, still howling, out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. He turned on a light, lukewarm shower, put shampoo on his hair and badly bruised behind. Quickly, he washed himself down, and shaved his dark, fine beard. Carefully drying off, he walked back to his bedroom, gingerly stepped into and pulled up his last clean pair of briefs. Then, he pulled a clean, Greenbriar t-shirt over his head and arms, and stepped into a once-worn pair of cacky shorts and a pair of sandals. Walking slowly stiffly out of the bedroom, and down the stairs, he rounded the corner into the tiny kitchen where his Dad was sitting, waiting.
Eric poured himself a cup of coffee, took a soup bowl from the cupboard and placed it on the counter. Limping past his Dad, he reached into the small pantry for an already-opened box of Cheerios, which he poured into the bowl back on the counter. He poured milk on the cereal, orange juice into a glass, and standing all the while, age his breakfast, drank the juice, and poured himself a second cup of coffee.
He still couldn't bring himself to speak to his Dad. Finally, Carl broke the silence and the tension. "Fill a couple of trash bags with your dirty laundry, Eric, and we'll take them with us. You can do them at home. And pack your suitcase with another pair of shoes, some ties, a jacket and some pants, and whatever clean socks and underwear you have left. And don't forget your toiletries. This shouldn't take more than 20 minutes, Eric, and then we're leaving. I'll call Mom."
"Auh, . . . OK," Eric finally spoke. His Dad was directing him just like he had when Eric was a kid; but he wasn't about to say anything. Instead, he took two trash bags from the pantry, filled them with his dirty laundry, and brought them downstairs, and out to the back of the Land Rover. Then he packed his suitcase and brought it downstairs – along with his pillow from his bed – and put them in his Dad's car as well. Returning to his house, he turned off all electrical appliances, grabbed his checkbook, locking the door, he locked his jeep as well. Then, he doubled over his pillow onto the seat and painfully eased himself down onto it.
They drove the 25 miles home in total silence. At his folks' house, he took the bags of dirty laundry into the laundry room, and his suitcase into his old bedroom. In the meanwhile, he could hear his Dad telling his mother about the preceding night. His Mom sounded really upset.
At the hospital, Eric was glad to see Grandma Woodard, as were Carl and Anne. They spent every day from Saturday morning through Wednesday with Grandma Woodard, traveling home late each night. On Thursday morning, Carl woke Eric at 6, and by 6:45 they left in the Land Rover to take Eric the 25 miles to Greenbriar. Then Carl picked Eric back up at 7 p. m., at the agreed spot, the gym at the high school.
Friday morning was a repeat of Thursday; but Friday night, Carl picked up Eric at 6 p. m., at the gym, and they drove to Eric's beachfront house. While eating pizza together that they ordered, Carl and Eric laboriously, but methodically, packed up everything of Eric's into the Land Rover. Eric would follow Carl back Saturday afternoon in his Wrangler.
They found a sub-tenant for the beach house, and Eric lived at home for the next 4 ½ years. The first Tuesday of every month, Carl would drive Eric over to the clinic where Eric would take a drug test. Only twice, early on, did it come back positive, and Eric endured four days of belt-blistering spankings from Carl each time. Eventually, Carl and Anne trusted Eric to drive himself, in his Wrangler; and only one time he lost it for 6 months, along with another bottom-burning paddling from Carl, because Eric had come in more than an hour after the stated, curfew hour.
At 31, Eric married a girl, Lois, two years younger; and at 33, their first child, Carl, Jr., was born. Eric transferred to St. Timothy's school in the same town where his parents lived, and became the athletic director, as well as teaching biology and anatomy. Eric and Lois had three children, two boys and a girl.
Forty years from the time that Carl called an end to Eric's party-life, Eric visited him in his hospital bed. With each breath, Carl wavered on the line between life and death. Eric stood by his Dad's bedside, holding his hand and staring at him through tearing eyes. Next to Eric stood grown, adult, Carl, Jr., and his 7-year-old son, Carl, III.
Eric broke down, weeping uncontrollably. "I love you, Dad. You saved my life. You dragged me kicking and screaming off the road that would have wrecked my life, and you forced me -- made me --go straight and do right. Every thing I have, my wife, my family, is because you wouldn't let me go. I love you forever, Dad, I owe you my life." Carl, Jr., was weeping, and young Carl, III, carried away with the emotion, cried with them.
Suddenly, Carl, holding Eric's hand, squeezed and gripped it with the granite-like strength that Eric had known his Dad to have all his life, but that had seemed long past for him now. Then, Eric knew that his Dad understood what Eric had said and what he felt.