The following story is fiction. It contains paddling, excessive CP and reference to child abuse. If such subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i. e., child) please leave now.
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your comments -- pro and con, including constructive criticism, and
suggestions. The sheriff's department and the state
police searched diligently but when the car was hauled out at noon,
the search was terminated. Mr. Banhart's head had smashed into
door frame and one of his broken ribs had cut a major artery.
Calvin's head almost penetrated the windshield; most likely he was
unconscious as he drowned. Some called it a dreadful accident.
Others, more honest, placed the blame directly on Banhart and called
it negligent vehicular homicide and suicide. The distinction
would only matter in the local records and not to the survivors. "Just
you wait until we get home, young man." barked Mr. Banhart before
he realized that something, no, everything was different. He
was not driving his car but was in an immense room with lots of other
people about. Some sort of petty functionary approached them;
looking at his clipboard, he queried: "Mr. Jeremiah Noah Banhart and
your son Calvin John Banhart?" "Yes. What is place?
I want to see the person in charge. Where's my car?" Banhart
belligerently yelled. "Please, there no need to yell. You
will be called when it is your turn. Please just wait; quietly;
you have all the time out of the world. There are a couple of
seats right over there." the official turned and walked away.
For once Banhart was shocked. This was not how he was use to
being treated. He was so surprised that he did not think to
continue to yell at his son. Something completed him to sit.
There was something strangely subduing about the place. He watched
as people came and went. They always came in the doors at one
end of the great hall and were accosted by that obnoxious official
and left at the other end of the hall. He tried to get up but
something kept him in place. It was almost as if he was wearing
steal britches and there was a huge magnet under the seat. Time
passed yet it did not seem to. Then he heard his name called and
jumped up. It was only then that he realized he had not heard
other names called although people near him must have for they had
risen and left. He grabbed Calvin and started to go as the others
had. Strangely Calvin resisted although the boy had always followed
obediently before. "Come, Calvin" he barked and the boy jumped
up and followed. The place was immense and shockingly quiet.
In the corridor another functionary directed him a room. Things
were just as weird here -- neither familiar nor quite foreign.
Once inside the room, it gradually metamorphosed into a courtroom
and then several others entered. "I am your advocate, Mr. Banhart.
We have a very brief time to check a few items." The advocate
turned to Calvin as he flipped through the thick file in his hands.
"You must be Calvin Banhart." The lad nodded and the advocate
continued. "Please take a seat in the gallery until you are
called." Jeremiah Noah Banhart started to argue with the advocate
but quickly learnt that the advocate knew everything and it would
be best to proceed. Three judges entered and the clerk called
for order. The prosecutor made an opening speech. Jeremiah
was silent in amazement as the prosecutor said that his life was within
human bounds and not worthy of the court's time except for how he
treated his son Calvin John Banhart. Amazement quickly turned
into shock at the charges of homicide and abuse. A screen
suddenly appeared in the court and the prosecutor indicated that this
was just before the plunge into the river and transference to the
jurisdiction of this most honorable court. The car being driven
by the defendant was shown stopping and Calvin John Banhart getting
in and fastening his own seat belt. Immediately thereafter Jeremiah
Noah Banhart was yelling at his son and not paying attention to his
driving in adverse conditions which more than warranted extra care
and diligence. The prosecutor paused the display to indicate
to the court that the boy was silent, respectful and not causing any
distraction. One might even said he was cowering. Halfway
down the hill, the prosecutor again indicated that and how the defendant
was -- of his own free will -- ignoring the conditions and driving
negligently. At the end, with the vehicle underwater showing the
grisly consequences, Jeremiah was holding his head in his hands.
The advocate asked him if there was any extenuating circumstances.
Jeremiah insisted that the boy distracted him because of his misbehavior.
It was quickly established that Jeremiah had of his own free will
chose to behave as he did rather than wait a few minutes until he
and the boy got home. The judges quickly agreed in a brief conference
and immediately declared him guilty of homicide. Jeremiah complained
to the advocate that this was some sort of a kangaroo court for everything
happened so fast. "No, no, no." insisted the advocate explaining,
"all the investigations were extensive and complete. This charge
was extremely simple involving but a single act." Jeremiah argued
that he was not subject to the authority of this so called court.
The advocate no; that since he was here he was. He fumbled for
a moment, you have an expression for it -- "When in Rome do as the
Romans do." The conversation was terminated by a judge's gavel
and the order to prosecutor to proceed with the other charges. The
prosecutor did not delay. He gave an impassioned speech about
how the defendant, Jeremiah Noah Banhart, willfully and repeatedly
abused his own son, Calvin, by using corporal punishment to excess.
To compound the heinous crime he even enjoyed inflicting the excess
-- both the severity and number of blows -- and falsely claimed that
his bible authorized it. It started when the victim was still a
small boy. The screen started to show a party. It was
obviously a child's birthday party as could be seen from the decorations.
A happy Calvin was seen blowing out the candles on his seventh birthday
cake. The happiness did not last long for the child slipped
and grabbed the tablecloth which caused the cake, ice cream and soda
to tumble down on top of him. Almost instantly Jeremiah was
yelling at the child about the damage and soiling his new party clothes.
And then, in front of everyone, he grabbed the child yanked his pants
down and spanked him long and hard. So long and hard that he
ran out of tears. So long and hard that his red bottom soon
was black and blue. So long and hard that he could not sit or
walk easily for a week. In the gallery, Calvin, was sobbing at the
memory. The very painful memory of that extreme public brutality. Scene
after scene was shown. After seven score examples even Jeremiah
was hanging his head in shame. The prosecutor called Calvin to the
witness stand and started the examination. "Were the scenes shown
true and accurate depictions of what happened?" "Yes." "Were those
beatings excessive?" "Yes." Calvin found himself saying. He
wanted to explain but something made him tell the real and objective
truth. "Did you commit the transgressions that you were beaten for?" Calvin
realized that he was counting in his head and then said: "Only about
half." After Calvin was dismissed, the head judge looked at Jeremiah
Noah Banhart and asked it he had anything to say. On the stand
all he could do was sob and repeat "I did not know. I did not
realize. I'm sorry. Calvin please forge me, I meant the
best." The prosecutor rose saying: "Please call Mrs. Jeremiah Noah
Banhart." The clerk opened a side door and an old lady walked
in and went to the stand. Both Jeremiah and Calvin stared at
the woman. It took them a long time to realize that she was
now some forty years older than when they last saw her. In answer
to the question, she ran on and on. "I told him he was too strict;
too harsh; over doing it but he wouldn't listen." The prosecution
rested and the defense just pleaded for mercy. The judges huddled
and soon pronounced sentence. As judges are wont to do, they
took a long time to say "... a term of 20 standard units." Jeremiah
did not really follow it all except the end. His advocate explained
that converted to 87,124 Earth-years. The advocate left. The
bailiff started to place him in a holding cage to one side of the
court but Jeremiah resisted. Suddenly there was a second bailiff
also pushing him to the cage. He was not expecting that they
would grab his arms and yank him to the cage. But they did not
push him in but just stuck his hand through the bars. Another
piece of steal snapped into place and he his wrists were in clamps.
The bailiffs stripped him in the most literal sense ripping off his
clothes. "A score each." said a judge in a bored tone. The
first bailiff walked over to a cabinet and extracted a paddle.
It was the largest paddle that Jeremiah ever saw. It looked
like a fraternity paddled enlarged at least fifty percent. As
the paddle wielding bailiff approached him, the restraints moved down
and Jeremiah was bent over with his butt sticking up by the time they
reached him. CRAAAAAAACCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!! Jeremiah howled
as the pain swept through his body. The paddle did not care
and struck again and again turning the target into a bruised flaming
hot blob. The howls became continuous and he was bawling like
a baby. Calvin watched, transfixed in his seat. He could see
how much harder these blows were compared to those he had gotten.
For this he felt sympathy but another part of him relished the sight
of his tormenter getting it. Then he noticed something else;
when his father was beating him, he always had a hard on. Now,
on the receiving end his father did not. He felt a stirring
in his own crotch. He watched as the bailiff inflict the twentieth
CRAAAAAAACCCCCCCCKKKKKKK and then slowly return the huge paddle to
the cabinet. The clamps holding Jeremiah slowly moved up until
he was standing on his tiptoes. The second bailiff went over with
a cat-o-nine tails and swung it. Jeremiah shirked as the cat
cut into his back over and over. The clamp released him and
a bailiff pushed him into the cage. Jeremiah did not notice
that there was not any seat and he grasped the bars tightly to keep
from falling. The advocate who had been sitting near Calvin, took
his place at the defendants' table as the clerk called the next case
-- Mrs. Jeremiah Noah Banhart. Calvin was surprised. He understood
how his father was guilty but his dear and loving mother? He sat a
watched. Her transgression was neglect. She knew about
the abuse and excess and did not take action; a crime of omission
rather than commission. The defense showed how she constantly
pleaded with her husband but to no effect. The prosecution showed
how she failed to turn to get help from her religious advisor or the
state authorities preferring secrecy and harm to her only child to
the expected shame. The judges' decision came quickly -- 5 standard
units -- 21,781 Earth-years. The bailiff locked her in the cage
with Jeremiah. The clerk called the next case -- Mr. Calvin John
Banhart. Calvin moved forward. The advocate opened the
gate and lead the youth to his seat. He took out a very slim
folder. The prosecutor rose and Calvin shuddered. He knew
that he had sinned. He wished that he had been a better boy.
Then he heard: "No charges, your honors." The head judge banged
the gavel and declared: "Court adjourned." The judges faded
away. Almost immediately a strange creature came into the room.
Calvin thought that it looked like a Silverback gorilla on steroids;
perhaps like one of the trolls from Middle Earth in the LOTR.
It snapped collars about the two convicts and attached leads.
As the troll stripped the woman with a couple of yanks, Calvin noticed
the cuts on his father's back were closing. Then he led them
away. Calvin watched as the two descended a stairway he had
not noticed before. A small platform quickly descended from above.
He recognized his favorite teacher who invited him to join him.
As the lift slowly ascended he watched as the courtroom faded leaving
only the stairs which seem to go down forever into a flickering red
glow. Above was a gorgeous blue sky. He heard birds singing. He
now knew the answer to the question. The End © Copyright
A.I.L., March 3, 2003 Your comments are appreciated. Click
on my name above (left) to go to my web site at http://www.asstr.org/~YLeeCoyote/
and on the e-mail (right) above to send e-mail to YLeeCoyote@Lycosmail.com
More stories by Y. Lee Coyote