The caretaker finished mowing the school playing field. It was high summer and Duncan Sloan felt the sweat prickling the scalp under his wide-brimmed hat. He was relieved when the task was completed. He lifted the blades and rode the machine back to its shed. He locked the door and walked over to the swimming pool.
Duncan was not yet 30. Tanned by the sun, arms made strong by heavy manual work. The school was deserted because of the summer holidays. However, there was one other person inside the swimming pool enclosure. Duncan's face tightened when he saw a naked figure sprawled out on the seating. 16 year old Jason was staying with his Gran who, as it happened, provided Duncan with lodgings. There were two women Duncan cared about, his fiance Mary and his landlady Mrs Meyer. The older lady loved her grandson but he was a selfish little brat who liked to wound with words. For Mrs Meyer's sake, Duncan agreed to share his room with Jason but found the youth a trial. The caretaker was orderly, unlike the youth who dropped clothes and left them for Mrs Meyer to pick up.
Duncan sighed. It was infernally hot. He stripped off his clothes and stood at the edge of the pool. Then with a grace which belied his physique he dived into the pool. After swimming half a dozen lengths he clambered out of the water and lay face down on the bench above Jason. The youth lazily opened one eye and rolled over onto his back. Duncan frowned at the sight of Jason's small penis and its tiny bush of pubic hair which the lad made no effort to cover up.
When the sun had dried him, Duncan got dressed again.
"Come on Jason", he said to the youth, "Your Gran will have lunch ready".
The boy muttered something but did get up. He stretched like a graceful young animal before pulling on a pair of blue lycra shorts. They walked in silence to Mrs Meyer's neat little cottage which adjoined the school.
The old lady greeted them warmly. There was a smudge of flour on her lined face. They sat down at the table. Mrs Meyer asked Jason to say Grace.
"For what we are about to receive please make us truly thankful" her grandson mumbled and the two adults said "Amen". The meal was simple country fare and truly delicious. Jason ate as if he'd never seen food before. The two adults talked and enjoyed their meal. Then Jason burped loudly.
"Please don't do that at the table" the old lady said, looking reproachful, "You might at least say 'pardon'".
The boy eyed her craftily. "Why should I? You're always picking on me. It's not fair! Anyway, you've got Alzheimers so who cares what you think!"
The old woman's face turned ashen. Tears filled her eyes. She mopped them with her apron and fled from the room. Jason watched, gloating, knowing full well the harm he had done.
Duncan flung down his napkin and went to find his landlady. She was sitting on her bed, sobbing. The caretaker sat beside her and hugged her tight.
"There, there. Don't upset yourself. He's not worth it".
"But what if Jason said is true?" Mrs Meyer sobbed, " I have been forgetful lately".
"Listen to me", Duncan said to his old friend, "Alzeheimers is a very terrible disease for both the sufferers and their families. I can think of no less likely candidate than yourself. All those crossword puzzles you do. That complicated knitting. The books you love to read".
"But, Jason ..."
"Jason is capable of great cruelty and he enjoys hurting". Duncan's statement had an undeniable ring of truth.
"It's an awful thing to say about your own flesh and blood but I think it is true". The old lady thought for a moment. "He really is a monster". She clasped her hand to her mouth as though trying to retract her words.
"Right!" said Duncan. "Your husband would have soon taught Jason the error of his ways".
Mrs Meyer looked at a faded photograph on a bedside table. "My Tom would have leathered the skin off Jason's backside. That's what he would have done". She sniffed. Duncan gave her a sympathetic squeeze and then left the room.
There was no sign of the errant grandson. Duncan cleared the table and stacked the dishes next to the sink. Then he returned to the school and repaired a broken window-catch.
Jason scuffed his feet along the highly polished tiled floor. He saw the caretaker hard at work but Duncan ignored him. Jason felt like a sad little boy. His destructive use of words had lost him friends at school and now he'd upset both his Gran and Duncan. He knew what he had said was very cruel and monstrously unfair.
Duncan looked up at the slight figure. He put down the chisel. "I think you and I had better have a talk," he said to Josh. They went into a classroom and sat at two desks. Duncan sat down carefully onto a small chair, mindful of his big build.
"Do you remember Mrs Muirhead? Your Gran's friend who used to give you homemade toffee? Delicious, it was. Well, she's got Alzheimers".
"I didn't know", the boy whispered.
"Well she certainly wouldn't know you. It is so sad when good people who survived the Great Depression and the Second World War are denied the opportunity to live out their old age with grace and dignity. Whatever made you say such a cruel thing to your Gran?"
Josh thought for a moment. "I just say stuff to get a reaction, that's all".
"Makes you feel big, does it, upsetting an old lady who thinks the world of you?"
Josh shrugged.
Duncan struggled to keep his voice calm. "I pity you. Carry on like this and you will have no friends. Your life will be empty, pointless but no more than you deserve".
The youth felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew the truth in the caretaker's words. Josh respected the older man. He loved sharing the bedroom with him. Some nights when he was staying with his Gran he'd wake suddenly in the night. The sight of the big figure in the other bed was very reassuring and he went straight back to sleep again.
"Funny we should be having this conversation in a classroom. Those old teachers knew how to correct a boy" Duncan said. "It is not enough just to say you're sorry. You have to pay for doing wrong". There was a long silence. "It's over 10 years since a cane was used in this school. The headmaster still has some in his cupboard. I think he was hoping the abolition was temporary, not permanent". Duncan looked at Justin. "I'll go and select a cane and bring it back here. If you really want to make amends, by the time I return you'll have those new-fangled pants down round your ankles and be bent over a desk". The caretaker left the room and went to the headmaster's study.
Jason had never had so much as a finger laid on him. Yet, in his heart he knew he deserved to be thrashed as hard as Duncan could lay it on. He stood up, walked to the front of the desk dropped his lycra shorts and bent over. The wood felt cool on his chest.
The caretaker soon found a cane. He walked slowly back to the classroom. He doubted Jason would still be there until he caught a glimpse of the youth's pink bottom through the open door. Duncan stood beside Jason. "This will hurt" he said. "Like your cruel words hurt your Gran".
He lifted the cane high in the air before slashing it across the waiting target. The youth felt fiery pain in his backside. The stick made another arc and thudded against flesh. Jason half twisted, trying to avoid the flying cane. Duncan just waited until the boy was back in position again. He put all his considerable force behind the next stroke. Jason wailed at the savage pain being inflicted onto his tender rump.
'Yell all you want' the caretaker thought, 'It's music to my ears'.
Again and again the cane struck Jason. His wails got louder with each hard stroke. His backside was layered with five raised welts. Duncan cracked the stick down one last time. Jason shrieked and slid to the floor. The caretaker watched as the boy shook with pain and fear. But then he pulled himself back upright and bent across the desk again. Duncan put the cane down and told the sobbibg youth his punishment was over. Then the caretaker quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.
Jason rubbed his blazing rump with his hand. How many other boys had done the very same thing in that old classroom? He felt the painfully swollen ridges of flesh. His sobs turned to hiccups. Slowly he pulled his shorts back up over his battered behind and then rubbed his eyes. He thought about the beating. Time had stood still but it probably took less than a minute. He remembered Duncan grunting with exertion, the thud the stick made against his buttocks and his own heartfelt yells. The fire in his backside had peaked and was now dwindling into a glowing sensation.
The caretaker replaced a hinge on the window. His thoughts were chaotic. He had acted without authority and against the law. He knew Jason was vindictive and would have no qualms about reporting him to the authorities. Denial was useless with the welts he'd carved into the youth's rump proof of the beating. Yet, in his heart he knew what he'd done was right.
Some time later, Jason walked along the corridor. His eyes were a bit red but otherwise he looked fine.
"Hold this window, will you?" Duncan asked, "The last screw is a devil". The youth hurried to help and together they flinished the job. Then they went back to the cottage.
Mrs Meyer was busy washing the lunch dishes. Jason rushed over and put his arm around her ample waist, giving her a hug. "I'm truly sorry, Gran", he said, "Please forgive me. I never meant what I said". She shushed him. Then Jason picked up a tea towel and dried the dishes for her. Mrs Meyer raised her eyebrows at her boarder but he just grinned, feeling very relieved.
Later, when Duncan was alone with his landlady she commented on her grandson's welcome change in behaviour.
"Well", said the caretaker, "I showed young Josh what a school cane looked like". He swallowed. "Actually, I gave him a practical demonstration". He rubbed his own muscular buttocks.
"It will be the making of him", Josh's Gran said, her eyes shining. She was absolutely right.