"....so hopefully, if talk around the office is true, I'll be getting that promotion," John Sterling said, as he passed the mashed potatoes on to his son Tim.
"That's just great son, I'm so proud of you," his father Eric who was over for dinner said, beaming.
"Yeah, dad, it's great!" Tim added. "Hey, if you get a new car now, can I have the old one? I DO have my license now after all."
"Now honey, you know I don't feel comfortable with you driving by yourself," his mother said, a worried look on her face. "I just think you more practice."
"Besides," his father added, "that won't even be up for discussion until you show us we can trust you." Tim opened his mouth to protest, but John held up a finger and continued. "Yes, you HAVE been doing much better and there hasn't been an incident since I was called down to the police station, but it takes a while to trust someone after something like that happens. I'm sure you understand."
Tim rolled his eyes, jokingly, "Yeah dad, I know, I've heard this speech before. I was just joking, geez! But you don't have to worry about getting another call from the cops. Your...uhm....response wasn't something I want to experience again."
Seated across from him, his grandfather chuckled. "Ah, yes, there is nothing like a little applied psychology to get a point across."
"Just remember," John said, wagging a finger in mock seriousness, "I AM up to a repeat performance if necessary."
"DAD!" Tim said, turning a little red. Recovering quickly, he raised an eyebrow at his father and said "I heard that someone not only got a lesson in applied psychology, as grandpa called it, but got four shall we say 'review session' in the same day."
John choked on his mouthful of mashed potatoes, and had to take a drink of water to clear his throat. "So, you told him THAT story, did you Dad?"
"I most certainly did! Got quite a few others I could tell him too!"
"Well grandpa," Tim said, looking at his grandfather, "I'd rather hear about a time YOU were on the receiving end. You told me you would last night."
"Well, I'm going to go get dessert ready," Mrs. Sterling said, looking at her husband, son, and father-in-law with exasperation. "I swear, you three are as bad as the old men at the nursing home sitting around telling the same war stories over and over!" With that, she left.
"Old war stories," Eric repeated, chuckling. "I've always liked her sense of humor. You picked a good woman, son. Hmmm...now let me see...."
"Oh man, run, it's the cops!" 15-year-old Eric looked up at his friend's frantic shout. With that, the other youths took off, leaving Eric sitting by himself under a large shade tree in this secluded part of the city park. Getting quickly to his feet, Eric started off after his friends. He and the other boys were supposed to be at school, but had decided to cut and enjoy the warm spring weather. Eric hadn't been too thrilled with the idea, but since his mother was spending the week at her mother's house, there would be no one home to receive a call if the school secretary called. His father, of course, would be out a whatever site the construction firm was working today. He figured he would just forge a note from his dad the next day and he'd never get caught.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw the officer get out of his car and head into the park. Putting on an extra burst of speed, he dashed into the trees....and fell flat on his face after tripping on an exposed root. He scrambled to his feet, ready to run again, when he heard "Eric Sterling! Hold it right there young man!" Figuring he was busted anyway since the officer had recognized him, he turned around and waited.
As the policeman approached, Eric realized with a sinking feeling it was Officer Sam Smith, a close friend of his father's. If it had been the town's other police officer, the older brother of his best friend Matthew, he may have been able to talk him into letting him go. Not a chance with this guy though.
"You skipping school? No, don't bother answering, you wouldn't a run if you wasn't. Who were those other boys with you?" Eric looked at him, refusing to answer; he wasn't going to get his friends in trouble too. "So that's how it's gonna be, huh? Well, all right---I guess I'll just run you into school and let them know some other boys were cutting out. They'll figure out who. And you can bet I'll be lettin' your daddy know!"
The officer escorted Eric to the car and opened the back door so he could get in. He then climbed into the front seat and drove off. "Now son, I can't believe you'd be doin' something so durned stupid! If I was your daddy, I'd..." Eric tuned him out, looking out the window. Why had he let Tom talk him into cutting school? Matthew had tried to talk him out of it, but Tom was so persuasive. "....you hear me boy?"
"What?" Eric said, as the voice of the officer broke into his thoughts.
"I said, I changed my mind about taking you into school." Eric's ears perked up a little. Was he hearing this right? "You're daddy's working on the new store going up down by the grocery. I think we'll just stop by there, see what he has to say about all this." Eric's shoulders sagged; this was even worse.
Five minutes later, the officer pulled the car up next to the construction site where his dad, James, was working. Looking out the window, Eric could see that his dad and the other guys were on a lunch break. He noticed his father sitting under a tree next to Mark Williams, Matthew's father. His father was still a young man, only 34; Eric loved that his dad would somtimes take part in the backyard football games he and his friends had.
As Officer Smith got out of the car, the men sitting around the work area waved or called out greetings. Officer Smith waved back, but avoided conversation, instead heading right over to where James and Mark were sitting. Some of the men sitting closer to the car looked over and noticed Eric inside; he saw them talking and then pointing over to where his dad sat. Watching, he saw the Smith talking to his father. Though he couldn't see clearly from this distance, he saw his father jump up mid-way through the conversation and start heading toward the car. Smith put his hand on his arm, restraining him, and they talked a minute more. Then the policeman head back toward the car, and opened the door so Eric could get out.
"Well, son, I talked to your dad and he wants to have a word with you. He said he'd take care of seeing you got to school, so I'll just be about my business." Shaking his head, he continued, "I tell you son, I wouldn't want to be you right now." Then he got into his car and drove off.
Eric stood there, embarrassed, as they eyes of every man, sitting and standing, turned to him. "ERIC!! Get over here!" his father yelled. Eric slowly started toward him. As he neared his father, he saw him lean over and say something to Mark. Mark leaned over from where he was sitting and grabbed a piece of wood, handing it to James. Eric froze; surely he wasn't planning to...no, it couldn't be...he was expecting it to happen, but right here in front of everyone?
"Now, young man!" James yelled. The sparkle in his father's eye that always made it seem as if knew something funny no one else knew wasn gone; there was another glint entirely in his eye. Apparently deciding his son was being too slow, he stalked over and grabbed Eric by the arm, roughly dragging him over to an unopened crate near the partially finished building. Eric tried to pull back, but his father was older, bigger, and much stronger from having worked construction practically since the day he graduated high school.
"What were you thinking?" he shouted as he pulled Eric along. "Were you thinking?" He obviously didn't want Eric to answer, so Eric wisely kept his mouth shut. Not that it was going to make a difference, he thought, as his father sat down on the crate and yanked him across his lap.
"Dad, please, not here! At home, please!" Eric begged, his voice cracking with shame.
"Here AND at home!" As he said this, he brought the board down with a CRACK!! "Maybe getting your hide tanned here for the world to see will make you think twice about doing this again!" CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!!
Eric kicked his legs in protest. "God, this is hurting, I might as well not be wearing pants at all!" he thought. Then CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! his father picked up the pace and all coherent thought fled his mind. CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! His entire world at that moment was focused entiely on his back-side, and any shred of dignity was quickly lost in the pain. CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! "Ah! OW! Aa..Aah..AahOW!" CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! Tears began streaming down his face as he sobbed his pain and yelled his humiliation. And still the spanking continued. CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!! CRACK!!
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but was really a few minutes, the spanking stopped. Sobbing and gasping for air, Eric squeezed his eyes shut as the pain receded just barely enough for his thought to collect a little. "Oh my god I just got spanked in front of all my dad's co-workers I bawled like a baby o god my ass hurts I can't believe this happened OH GOD!!" Then he heard a sound, something that sounded like clapping. He opened his reddened eyes, and then shut them again. Every single one of the men who had viewed his spanking were on their feet, applauding his father's efforts, every one of them grinning from ear to ear. His father stood him up, and walked a few steps away, a little embarrassed himself now that the spanking was over and his anger was gone.
Then, to Eric's surprise, the other men came over. Some clapped him on the shoulder, some ruffled his hair, others commented on his taking his licks like a man. "You put on quite a show there James! You and your boy. Son, if I know your father, I'd hate to be you tonight!" After a couple minutes of good-natured kidding, James rescued his son and led him away to where his truck was parked, telling his boss he'd be back soon. His boss just nodded, grinning as wide as the others.
"Eric, I'm not going to ask you to explain yourself now. We can discuss this more tonight, after we take care of the rest of your punishment."
"Dad," Eric said, pleadingly "Do you really have to do this again? It hurts so bad now, I've learned my lesson, really."
James looked over at his son. "Can you look me in the eye right now and tell me you don't deserve another spanking tonight? If you can, we'll forget about it."
Eric tried to meet his dad's eyes, but couldn't. He looked at the floor, silent tears rolling down his face again. He knew he couldn't claim he didn't deserve it, as much as he wanted to avoid feeling that pain again.
James reached over and briefly put an arm around his son. "Paying the price when you make a mistake is part of learning to be a man. Be grateful it's just a spanking now; if I were to skip work, I'd be fired. That would hurt a lot more in the long run than any paddling will ever hurt. Even though you don't think so when it's happening. Your grandpa taught me that lesson, and I'm sure you'll teach it to your own sons someday."
"...and that's the story," Eric finished.
Tim stared at his grandpa, wide-eyed. "You got it right out in front of everyone?"
"Well, not everyone, but enough. I heard about it from those guys every time dad had one of them over to the house!"
"And did he really spank you again that evening?"
"You bet he did! Your great-grandfather was a man of his work. If he said he would do something, he did it! I didn't even get the benefit of keeping my pants on for the second one; I'm surprised I didn't wake the neighborhood!"
"I wish I knew him better," Tim said. "I was only, what, five when he died?"
"Just past four actually," his dad joined in.
"Sometime I'll have to show you his journal. It's somewhere in the attic at my place. I'll have to dig it out for you."
"Sounds great, grandpa! So, I bet you never cut school again!!"