I had just turned twelve the week before and even though my parents had thrown me a really great party, the whole Summer was becoming a complete snooze fest. I was actually beginning to miss school. My parents were rarely ever around. We were supposed to go on this big trip to Ireland but my father couldn't get off from work. Even my friends were becoming a bore. We mostly played futbol and dared each other to do stupid things like "I dare you to pinch that pocket knife" or "bet you can't climb to the top of that pole", or "bet I can stay underwater longer than you." And those were the fun ones. Things were getting so desperate I actually went to the library and started reading.
Then one morning as I was sitting at the table eating breakfast, reading The Lord of The Flies for the third time, when the doorbell rang. I was the only one in the house so I was reluctant to open the door until I saw it was Pritchard. I knew him from school. He was Prats' house monitor. "Mr. Prats requires you to report to his office at 3:00 p. m. today." He wasn't at liberty to give any other details but finally something exciting was happening. It was mysterious. I had only seen Prats on a few occasions but already knew that he was to be my Housemaster upon my return to school. I spent the entire day trying to figure out why he would need to see me in the middle of Summer vacation and didn't have a clue. In fact I changed my clothes three times not knowing if I should wear my uniform or not. I opted on the side of caution and put on my complete uniform including the tie and cap. I spent close to an hour shining my shoes. Not a hair was out of place. I was going to make a good first impression on him no matter what it took.
Upon arriving at his office I was surprised to see two of my friends, Atzenhoffer and Scanlan there as well. I quickly felt extremely over dressed as they were both in shorts and a t-shirt and really gave me the business for being in full gear.
At precisely 3:00 p. m. the door to Prats' office opened and Pritchard popped out saying "He will see you in exactly ten minutes" We stood around trying to figure out what was going on and then a man came out of the office. He looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't place him. He stared at us intently for close to a minute and went back inside. Then the door opened again and the man left without a word, but a sinister grin aimed at us as he left. Then precisely at 3:10 p. m. the doors opened again and Pritchard escorted us into Mr. Prats.
He was a rather large man with a great, round belly and wild jet black hair. He stood behind his desk in black cotton trousers with a thick brown leather belt, a white linen short-sleeve shirt and a rather loud red and yellow striped tie. I became transfixed by the shear volume of thick, black hair protruding out from under his shirt-sleeve and down his arms like some great ape. I was beginning to stare at the rich patch of hair pushing its way over the collar of his shirt as if trying to escape when He spoke, but not like an ape, very crisp and deliberate. I was completely mesmerized by this massive man and was picturing him dragging his knuckles in the middle of an evolution chart when I finally focused on what he was saying.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice. I appreciate your promptness and glad to see at least one of you has maintained your school spirit in spite of this ungodly heat." At that I was brimming with pride, even though deep down I knew he was probably only being sarcastic. "The headmaster has been contacted by a Mr. Evans who owns a shop on Birch Street. He has picked you three boys from the yearbook as being in his shop day before yesterday. He recognized you as students as one of you was carrying a Uppingham bookbag. He reconfirmed your identification just now. He claims that one or all three of you stole a rather expensive black onyx pocket knife. He admits that he didn't see you take the item, but is 100% sure it was there when you entered the store and he noticed it missing only minutes after you left and no one else was in the store at the time. As you are to be in my house this term, the headmaster has assigned me to deal with this matter to the satisfaction of the school and Mr. Evans. Now I don't care which one of you stole the knife, I expect it to be returned to Mr. Evans with a written apology signed by all three of you no later than 10:00 a. m. tomorrow is that clear?" "Yes sir" we replied in unison. "I'm glad to see none of you are trying to insult my intelligence by trying to deny it. Never the less an example must be made that as long as you are students at Uppingham you are subject to the school's code of conduct and serve as representatives of the school in every place you go and everything you do whether school is in session or not as it is a direct reflection on the reputation of the school. The headmaster wishes you to know that as a result you will each be caned as part of the opening day assembly when school resumes in the Fall. You will each receive six strokes with the long cane is that clear?" "Yes sir" we replied. "Very well, Now in lieu of Mr. Evans reporting this matter to the police I have been instructed to cane you today as per his request. You will each get twelve stokes from the junior cane. The only sound I expect to hear is you counting out. Any flinching I deem actionable will result in the strokes being doubled is that clear?" "Yes sir." "Very well Atzenhoffer your first, lower your shorts to your ankles and straddle the desk." Prats then proceeded to crack the cane in the air several times to see if the boy would flinch and then methodically striped into him pausing about ten seconds between strokes. I have to admit how impressed I was at the sheer force of the strokes resulting in a deafening crack. Atzenfoffer's face was blood red as he struggled to count out and contain his need to scream. Twelve blood red lines immediately appeared on his plump round ass and tears poured out of his eyes with a muffled series of whimpers, but all in all he was magnificent.
When Prats let him up he was told to put his shorts back on and to stand in the corner until he was told he could leave. I was next. Without being told I removed my school jacket and tie and placed them neatly over the back of a chair and lowered my trousers to my ankles and lifted my shirt up and bent over the desk. I'd never been caned by Prats before, but I was hardly a stranger to the implement. Once again he cracked the cane in the air several times and them crashed the first stroke into me. Even though I had prepared myself it knocked the wind out of me and I almost forgot to call out but yelled out "One!" just as I could sense him ready to pounce. A sharp and indescribable pain shot through my whole body. "Two!" was even worse. "Three!" nearly killed me. "Four!" had me jumping up but my hands stayed firm, clutching the edge of the desk. But luckily he didn't say anything. By "Six!" I closed my eyes and began to feel myself leaving my body as if I were floating up watching myself get caned and I could feel myself once again mesmerized by this great big, hairy man. By "Ten!" I forgot to say "Ten!" and came crashing back to find Prats yelling that I was now going to receive an additional twelve strokes and if I failed to call out again or flinched he would have me back on Monday for a repeat performance. So I now concentrated all of my energy on simply taking it. No matter how much I tried to avoid it I was sobbing uncontrollably by the end. When "twenty-four!" finally came I waited for what seemed an eternity before he told me I could get up as if he was intentionally trying to see if I would get up without permission so he could beat me again. As I slowly got up and began to get dressed I wiped the tears away and extended my hand out saying "Thank you sir....your much harder a caner than Mr. Williams" (my previous housemaster). "Well I'm glad to hear that, perhaps you can warn your friends so I don't have to do it as often." He said and I stupidly replied "Why don't you enjoy it....it sure feels like you do!" as soon as it left my mouth I knew I was dead. "Why of all the insolent cheek....Your right I'm sure going to enjoy it every time I cane your impertinent ass....get back down and stay down until I tell you to get up"
This time his rhythm was completely different and he began to savagely tear into me with the cane. I began to plead and beg for mercy but there was none to be given. After the sixteenth stroke he suddenly stopped, but not out of mercy...."Pritchard, Scanlan come and hold him down!" he commanded. The two boys got on both sides of me and tightly held my arms and shoulders down to the desk and the barrage continued. After four more strokes I was uncharacteristically howling. I felt as if I were being sliced into little pieces. So much for a good first impression.
Then it happened. On the thirty-first stoke, well actually my fifty-fifth of the day, his cane actually cracked in two. There was a long pause as he went through the phases of realization. Then came "You little _s_h_i_t_! You broke my cane. The head gave me that cane when I was inducted as Housemaster and you broke it! You insolent little piece of _s_h_i_t_!" Not at a total loss he then preceded to remove the thick, brown leather belt from his 44 inch waist. He doubled it over and continued to beat me for ten more licks. "All right, that's enough for now, let him up." He finally said.
As I was struggling to stand erect and restore my trousers to their full and upright position he said "You broke my cane. How am I supposed to cane Scanlan?" He repeated the question so I whimpered "I don't know" then in a panic later added "Sir!" not wanting to give him any excuse for another session. "Very well, Pritchard stay here and keep an eye on my guests, your (meaning me) coming with me to the headmasters office where you can tell him what you said and that you broke my cane. You will ask him to loan you his cane so I may punish Mr. Scanlan and you are to ask him how much it will cost to replace the cane you broke...." "but sir, please.." "No but sirs, you will have the rest of the Summer to work in the house to replace the cane and if you do anything what so ever I'll break that one over you as well is that understood?" "Yes sir"
Upon entering the Headmasters office, Prats made me do all the talking as I was forced to retell the events of the day. To my horror the head took out the cane to be loaned to Mr. Prats and ordered me to lower my trousers and bend over the chair he had positioned in the center of the room for just this purpose. I complied without protest not wanting to risk upsetting him further. As the head walked behind me and saw the damage and cuts from Prats he appeared to be genuinely horrified and told me to get back up and that it was evident I had been thoroughly disciplined enough. Upon leaving the office the head told Prats "As soon as your finished with the remaining boy, come back here....We need to discuss this matter in full". I could tell from his tone that he thought Prats had gone way to far and was now the one in the hot seat.
Scanlan's caning was very routine, but I actually felt guilty because I could only imagine what it must have been like to have to watch my beating knowing I was next. As a result of the headmaster's tone, I think Prats went considerably easier on Scanlan than he did Atzenhoffer or me.
The next day, Pritchard arrived at my house with a work schedule starting that afternoon and extending everyday except Sundays for the remainder of the Summer holidays. From the list of chores you would have thought the cane was made out of plutonium. Prats' sole occupation from that moment on seemed to be to hover over me and at the slightest mistake or whim cut into me again and again. To make matters worse when my punishment would finally be over he would still be my housemaster for the next two years. I certainly became his favorite whipping boy....so much for a good first impression.