After school Paw would come to pick me up. We were not allowed outside the school yard, but I would stay as close as possible to the gate, so Paw wouldn't run into any of my teachers, nomesain? I wasn't doing well in Math at all. I just don't see the point of mother_f_u_c_k_ing algebra, nomesain? What use does one have for it in the real world, nomesain? Well that dyko White would send home notes to Paw, but I would lose them or forge his signature. I knew that I would get caught some time, but I just couldn't bear to face him with my bad grades and that switch and belt.
Well, on this latest test I had done badly. But luckily Demetrius had done badly too. Demetrius doesn't have to worry like me, lucky _s_h_i_t_! He lives with his mama. She's young and kinda pretty. Very well educated too. She has a Ph. D. in something or the other. And she doesn't believe in whupping. Instead, she lectures Demetrius. He's always laughing with me over it, nomesain. She will look at him earnestly and say
"Now, Demetrius, I want you to make a commitment to me and to yourself that you will do your best."
And Demetrius will knod vigorously and look earnest, squinting his pretty little black eyes. He has to pull his mind away from his other preoccupations while she is lecturing of course. He tells me,
"_s_h_i_t_ Mike. I be thinking of booty and cunt, nomesain, and mama be going on and on. I'm not paying no attention."
Personally, I think Demetrius lying when he say that he be thinking of booty and cunt. I may be flattering myself, but I think he may be thinking about my sweet high yaller ass in my khaki school trousers, or the feel or my rapidly developing _c_o_c_k_, as we lay on top of each other in the bathroom, or the feel of my soft little golden brown palm slapping his booty sharply, or the satisfying squishy feel of my little penis coated in white goo, that had gushed out after his dark, chocolately black little hand had stroked it to explosion.
But still I was relieved that Demetrius had done badly because he was coming to my house for my birthday today. And my little tattle tale cousin Carlton from the 3rd grade would be there too. Demetrius might be tempted to spill the beans, but he wouldn't now, not that he knew he had done badly too.
Standing at the gate, I saw Paw approaching. As I said before, he has my babyish face, but he's real black. I grabbed my backpack, and then horror of horrors suddenly the principal was behind me, calling out, "Oh Mr. Brass, can I have a moment of your time?"
Paw trots over. "How you doin sir?" he says in his gruff manly way.
"Good afternoon Mr. Brass, " the pervie principal says in his English faggoty way. "Mr. Brass I am concerned at how Michael (that's the way he _f_u_c_k_s up my name, nomesain? It's really Micheal.) is doing in Algebra. I understand he has failed the midterm."
Paw's face black as thunder. Glares at me. Then he glares at the principal. "Why wasn't I informed that he was doing badly?"
"Ms White tells me she sent home notes, and they were returned with your signature."
By this point, Demetrius has rushed out of the school building, ready to come home with us. The bastard is standing behind my dad, a big grin on his face, brilliant white teeth and braces showing. He's enjoying seeing me sweat bullets in front of my dad. Little _f_u_c_k_er.
"Micheal," my dad said in a very quiet, terrifying voice. "You and are I are going to have a session today. Party or no party. Demetrius is going to have to leave early, and you and I are going to have some attitude adjustment."
My stomach lurched. I suddenly had a vision of that thin green switch and the thick wooden board, Paw's preferred implements. Before I could control myself, my eyes welled up with tears. The pervie principal's eyes became as big as saucers. My tears turned him on, particularly the genuine article. Demetrius's grin grew even bigger. My tears and humiliation turned him on. But my tears only made Paw mad. He grabbed my ear and twisted it hard.
"What are you some sort of sissy? You were man enough to do the crime. Now you can't do the time."
Paw is full of a million of these. Young as I am I know that they are bull_s_h_i_t_ cliches. But black men of his generation talked like that. Think of Johnny Cochran, "If the glove don't fit, let's take a _s_h_i_t_,"or Jessie Jackson, I forget his little tag lines.
Then suddenly the principal says in his flutie faggoty voice, "Oh Mr. Brass. Do you plan to er whup Michael?"
"Yessuh."
"Well the latest research shows that the humiliation of such punishment being witnessed helps the recipient to improve his ways. Do you have a videocamera?"
"Oh yes sir," says Paw enthusiastically.
"Then maybe you can videotape it. And Micheal and I can watch his humiliation in living color, as it were, the next time he is thinking of _f_u_c_k_ing up. It will also provide nice entertainment for his class if Ms White has to be out, and we don't have a substitute."
Paw thoroughly approved of the idea. My tears dripped even faster. It was bad enough that Demetrius was watching me be humiliated, but the thought of my entire class watching my ass be torn up, the girls giggling. And then the thought of that pervie principal getting his rocks off. It made my shame ten times worse, nomesain?
[Note from Mr. Brass and the pervie principal: Micheal didn't see the wink passing between us. Of course, Mr. Brass didn't videotape Micheal's punishment. He just had the videocamera there without a tape. But it provided a kick for both of us to intensify Micheal's punishment. The threat of that videotape being shown might keep the little chap in line too.]
Suddenly the principal noticed Demetrius. "Where's your mother?" he asked.
"Demetrius is coming home with us," said Paw. "But he's going to have to leave early. We were supposed to be celebrating Micheal's birthday party. But I don't give a _s_h_i_t_ - - excuse me principal - - about that. I'm not busting my ass - - excuse me principal - - to send this little mother_f_u_c_k_er - - sorry principal - - to a good Catholic school. And he be cutting up, nomesain? No, sir. It's the switch and board for Mikie today."
The principal sighed. "I wish I could talk to Mrs. Fenix. Demetrius is doing terribly in Algebra too, and he too doesn't return notes."
"I'll pass the message onto Mrs. Fenix," volunteered Paw. "She'll be calling me to find out when to pick up Demetrius."
For a moment, Demetrius's big grin faltered. He suddenly realized he was busted. But then he must have thought, "What the _f_u_c_k_? I've been through a million of my mama's boring lectures. Another one won't be that bad, nomesain?" So, the grin returned but a little less broad if you nomesain?
Well I guess I'll have to tell you what happened next time, nomesain. But don't be stroking your _c_o_c_k_ in the corner and thinking I can't see you because I can, nomesain. You are like Demetrius in English class. That old dyko White be going on and on about split infinitives or some such useless _s_h_i_t_, and my little chocolatey nigger buddy Demetrius be rubbing himself with the thick grammar book, or reaching out with his cool little black hand, supposedly looking for my calculator in my pocket but really stroking my little golden brown balls through the thin cotton of my school trousers. Real sick faggoty stuff, nomesain.