I had some real trouble walking to the truck, and sitting was hell, but eventually I got use the pain. That's when I thought about it. (God it's not over) I still had to face my father.
"Is Dad real mad?"
He snorted. "Dad doesn't even know about it, OK." He said sounding a little funny.
"But they called him and you said --"
"Oh they called all right. _f_u_c_k_ing Jeff answered the phone and when he heard it was Burns, he freaked out and shoved the phone into my hand and said.....Here, Pretend your Dad" Drew said giving an over dramatic version of Jeff's voice. "I didn't know what the hell was going on, but I went with it...LIKE AN ASSHOLE!" He snapped suddenly. "Then it turned out to be about you..........and by then it was too late."
I looked at him, amazed. Mr. straight laced Drew McClure pretended to be someone he was not? (Oh my God)
"What did you say? I mean he would have expected --" I said not truly convinced that he pulled it off.
"I acted like Dad."
"And he bought it?"
"Obviously so.... you dumb _s_h_i_t_. He let you leave with me didn't he?"
"Well, since you're acting like Dad........Are you going to sign that to?" I asked pointing to the envelope which was sticking out of his shirt pocket.
He snatched it out of his pocket and tossed it in my lap. "I'm not signing _s_h_i_t_ buddy. It's bad enough I said I was him on the phone......God, can you imagine how pissed he be if I forged his signature. You're on your own."
When we pulled into the drive way Jeff, who was sitting on the porch waiting for us, was grinning from ear to ear.
"What's the hell is he grinning at?" Drew asked.
"Well, Well, Well." Jeff said as I got out of the truck carefully. "By the way you're walking I'd say you got your ass pretty well toasted."
"Shut up Jeff." Drew said as he walked up on the porch.
"I'm just messing with him." He laughed. "How do you feel?"
"Like hell. I got six."
"Holy _s_h_i_t_.....six, and you're still walking? _d_a_m_n_.... you're tougher than I thought."
"Thanks for what you did." I told him as I walked up the steps. "I thought I was in for more when I got home." .
"Yeah, well don't think you're completely off the hook. We just bought you a little time is all. You have till the end of the weekend to tell Dad what you did...and get him to sign that letter so you can give it to Burns on Monday."
"I know." I said.
It was funny. Looking forward from Friday the weekend seemed so long. I mean I had plenty of time to tell my father what I had done right. Well, Sunday night came and I still had not said a word. I kept trying, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Finally I decided that I wouldn't do it till it was absolutely necessary , like if Burns called or something, but that never happened. Things seemed fine. A month went by and Mr. Burns never asked for the signed letter, Mr. Logan didn't ask for the money for the tires, everything was great........UNTIL....
I had just lifted my pizza to my mouth to take a bite, when a hand came down in front of me and slammed a piece of folded paper onto the table with a loud BANG!
The sudden jolt caused me to loose my grip - as I about flew out of my skin - and my slice of pizza fell into my lap. I picked it up quickly and snapped my head around and there looking down at me - eyes blazing like fire - was my father.
"WHAT IN THE HELL IS THAT!" He yelled, pointing to the paper.
I tossed the pizza onto my plate and slowly unfolded the letter and started to read, or at least pretend to. I already knew what it said almost word for word.
(_f_u_c_k_)
I dropped the letter and just sat there in my chair, waiting for the end of life as I knew it.
"Look familiar!?!" He asked.
"I was going to give it to you." I told him.
He gave me a raised eyebrow look and crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh you were, HUH?"
"Yeah."
"When?"
"Eventually."
His uncrossed his arms suddenly and quickly moved his hands down to his belt and went to work unbuckling it. A second later he ripped it from his waist, doubled it then held it up to me.
I recoiled back, my heart pounding fiercely.
"You weren't ever gonna tell me if you could help it, and I'm guessing that was to avoid this right?" He asked shaking the belt, making the buckle jingle.
I just sat there, my head down, watching him out the corner of my eye. "WELL!!"
"I--I----I w-as......." I started, but he yelled at me.
"YOU WERE WHAT!!"
"I was afraid you'd punish me again." I said softly.
"OHHH, and you don't you think you would have deserved it!?!" He yelled.
Again I just sat there.
"Don't have anything to say?....... Fine. I'll tell you what." He said and dropped the belt on the table next to the letter. I jumped when it hit.
"You sit there and think about it a while. You got ten minutes to come up with a good reason to support why you shouldn't be punished. If you can't come up with something worthy........bring that with you when you come upstairs." He said, then he simply turned and walked away.
I sat there for the next ten minutes looking at that belt, my mind racing with possibilities from being too old (which I knew I was not) to already knowing that I had done wrong, so a beating would have been a waste of energy, but every reason seemed stupid or off the wall. I mean deep down I knew I deserved it. There was no way around that. I deserved it.
"Time's up." Jeff said softly. "What did you come up with?"
I took the belt in my hands and thought about how many times it had been used on me, and the reasons why. I could justify every occasion - taking my brothers car, drinking, smoking dope, hurting my sister out of pure viciousness, cutting up my brothers clothes, scaring my father to death by coming in real late at night - I deserved it every time, and I deserved it now.
"You better go then." Jeff said suddenly breaking into my thoughts. "He's probably timing it."
I stood up from the belt, then took in a deep breath. He looked at me and smiled.
"It's like taking the bullets to your own execution, right." He said.
I looked at him suddenly. "Yes...how did you know?"
"I did grow up with the man, you know......He made me bring it to him a few times, and I can assure you, you'll hate every step." He said.
I chuckled. "I guess I should get up there then, huh?..... ..get it over with."
Jeff smiled. "Good luck." .
"Thanks." I said and walked off.
I went upstairs and stood outside my fathers bedroom door peeking through the crack - for what seemed an hour. He was sitting up in bed with his feet stretched out in front of him, watching the news.
"Oh god please just let it be over quick." I prayed then I pushed the door open slowly.
He clicked the TV off by the remote then slung his legs over the side of his bed and placed his feet firmly on the floor. "Well, Get on in here." He said.
My heart started to pound as I stepped in slowly - my eyes never leaving his.
"Over here in front of me." He said pointing to the floor.
My feet felt like led, but I forced myself to continue. "It'll be over soon......it'll be over soon." I kept telling myself till I was right in front of him
"What have you come up with?" He asked.
I swallowed hard and just held the belt out to him. "I couldn't think of anything." I said.
He took the belt out of my hands. "Then I guess you better get your pants down then."
I slowly undid the button, then the zipper, all the while starring at him. Then I slid my jeans down my thighs. "Underwear too?" I asked, praying he'd say no.
"Keep them on if you like. It won't matter much." He said and with that he grabbed my arm and pulled me down over his left knee. I grabbed two fistfuls of bedspread and held tight.
He didn't waste a single second before he brought the belt down............WHACK!!
I jumped as leather connected with skin, then the pain hit me a second later and I made a UMPHing sound..
CRACK!!
I jumped again as the next blow landed directly below the first, again only making an UMPHing sound as I tried to bite back the pain.
CRACK! SMACK! WHACK!
"OWLLL...UHHHH.....OOOLLLL." My tears started to roll as the fire grew.
WHACK! CRACK! SMACK! CRACK! WHAP!
"OUCH...OOOOLLLL....Dad....please......AHHHH.....OOOCH..... OH God...please." I cried out, struggling with every blow.
He just wrapped his arm all the way around my middle and went on with it, blow after blow, creating a blaze that I never felt before.
CRACK! WHACK! CRACK! WHACK! SPLAT! SNAP! CRACK! WHACK! CRACK!
Words were not possible. The only thing I could do was scream, kick and sob for all I was worth - none of it having any effect on him though. He just kept going till he was sure that I had learned my lesson.
When it was over he released his arm and allowed me to just laid there - over his knee, face buried in his bedspread, crying like a baby - as he rubbed my back. At one point, I wanted to place my hand back to try to soothe the throbbing flesh, but it was way beyond help. I was going to have to sit in a tub of ice to put out that the blaze.
Finally I calmed down enough and he helped me to my feet.
"You will pay for those tires out of your savings account, you understand me?"
"Yes sir." I said, choking on my words.
"All right then. Now go to your room." He said.
I turned quick and started for the door, looking forward to the comforts of my own bed.
".......And I don't want to see you the rest of the night." He shouted after me.
(Don't worry about that) I thought bitterly, but that was really just the pain talking.
Later that evening - as I was laying there watching TV - there was a knock at my door.
"Come in." I yelled, but who ever it was just knocked again.
"I said Come in." I yelled a little louder, but there was no response.
Quite annoyed by this, I got up - as carefully as I could and opened the door. There was no one there. (What the hell) I thought as I looked out into the hall and looked both directions. The hall was empty.
(_f_u_c_k_ing Jeff) I thought and was about to shut the door when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I looked closer and there sitting on the floor in front of my door was a bag with the name of my favorite Japanese carryout restaurant written on it.
I thought I was seeing things for a minute, but the smell of my favorite dish filled the air, letting me know it was really there.
I smiled then carefully bent down and picked up the bag and looked at it. (He did it again) I thought, thinking of my father. As usual he could not let me go to bed hungry, or angry with him, so he went out of his way to make me feel better.
"Thanks Dad!" I shouted down the steps, but his response didn't come from downstairs. It came from my brothers room next door, where my father was hiding in the doorway.
"Your welcome." He said then stepping out into the open and headed for the stairs. "Hope you enjoy it."
The end.