Possum Poke was a small town in the middle of a mostly rural county. When school was out for the summer, it got pretty boring. Not so much for the young kids, I suppose--children invent imaginary worlds when their real surroundings are lame--but for a fifteen year-old, it just plain sucked.
There were only a few other kids even close to my age in the entire town (my buddies from Lincoln High School were all from OTHER pathetic little towns spread out all over the county). Since my Dad had left a few years before, my Mom was working long hours to pay the bills, and my brother Corey (who was home from college) had a summer job, I was basically alone for most of the time from late June to September. I did things to help out around the house, and earned some pocket money by mowing lawns for a couple of elderly neighbors, but that didn't begin to fill the time.
Corey had changed while at college; he acted as though he couldn't be bothered with me most of the time. The only moment of closeness I shared with him that June was the afternoon he came home and smoked a joint with me on the back deck. (I'm sure he thought it was my first time. Far from it, but I didn't let him know that.) When we'd finished, he sported a goofy grin and handed me a plastic sandwhich bag containing three more joints. "Don't get caught with those," he instructed.
He went to his room, and when he emerged many hours later he was once again a stranger.
It was because of this lonliness that I let Eddie and his pals hang around me. Eddie was the eleven year-old who lived directly across the street from me. He was a good kid, really; friendly, polite, respectful. He had a sense of humor as well as a sense of adventure. And, for some reason that I couldn't figure out, he looked up to me.
I had never had anyone regard me as a sort of hero before, so when Eddie and his two sidekicks, Alex and Decker, began tagging along with me, I thought it was cool. They helped me with my yardwork, and I bought them ice cream at the FrostyKone on Main Street. They came over and listened to music with me.
One afternoon when Eddie, Dex, and Alex were hanging around, and we had nothing to do, I fetched the plastic bag and offered to share a joint with them. All three were hesitant, so I told them not to feel pressured.
"It's here if you want it, that's all," I said as I lit up.
A minute later, Eddie reached his hand out, and said, "can I just have a puff?"
"Sure."
He sucked a little in. I didn't think he cared for the taste, but he kept on smoking. Sure enough, the other two got curious enough to try it. The four of us polished off the doob together.
A few days later, they asked if I had any more pot. They were anxious to enjoy it.
"I have more," I told them, "but we can't do it now. Corey usually gets home at three-ten, three-fifteen. He'd get upset if he found out I've been smoking it with a bunch of fifth graders."
"SIXTH graders!" Alex corrected.
"So we'll go over to my back porch," Eddie suggested. "My brother won't be back for hours."
His brother, Brandon, was near to my age, but he wasn't interested in hanging out with me. Probably because their father passed away when they were young, Brandon was a very serious and dry person. He didn't go to Lincoln High--he'd earned a scholarship to attend a private school, and was at the top of his class. I had never seen him smile.
We all crossed the street to Eddie's house, raided the snack cupboard for munchies, and went out onto his back porch to light up.
Our street was so quiet that you noticed when an individual car drove past. We heard a car approach, then heard the engine stop. I looked at my watch--3:13--and knew that it was Corey arriving home from work. A car door slammed shut, and then a second later another slammed shut. The second door sound was puzzling; had he forgotten to get something out of the car, or had he brought a friend home with him?
I pondered that question, and found that, when stoned, pondering was an entirely different experience. It took a lot of time.
It was time that I didn't have, though.
"_s_h_i_t_!" Eddie yelped, pulling the joint out of his mouth.
I looked up and realized that Brandon was standing in the doorway, watching. (I found out later on that Corey, driving home from work, had seen Brandon walking back from Squirrelville--a long hike on foot--and had offered him a ride, thus explaining why I heard two car doors shut, and how Brandon got home so quickly.)
"What do you think you're doing?" Brandon demanded. His voice was firm and harsh, but not loud.
Eddie bowed his head, but said nothing.
"Do you think it's okay that you're doing drugs in the back yard? Huh?"
"It's just pot," Eddie said quietly. "It's not any more dangerous than cigarettes."
I blushed. He'd heard me say that.
"Do you think it's okay to smoke cigarettes in the back yard, then? Do you think it's okay to bring something illegal on our property? Do you realize what could happen if someone finds out? They can take you away, Ed. They can send you to juvenile hall. Do you want that? Do you know how that would break Mom's heart?"
The boy shook his head and bit his lip. Clearly, Eddie had never considered the possibilities.
In spite of everything that was going on, I couldn't help thinking how good-looking Brandon was. Watching him function as surrogate-father to his kid brother made him seem even more handsome.
"Get over here," Brandon said as he sat down on the long bench. "Drop your pants."
Alex, Dexter and I realized what was going to happen. Brandon was in charge of his brother, and in charge of administering punishments, and clearly smoking pot on the back porch deserved a spanking. Poor Eddie looked so embarrassed as he stood there with his pants around his ankles, his tiny pecker flapping in the breeze.
Brandon pulled the boy across his lap, raised his hand, and began SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! spanking the kid's smooth white buns with his bare hand.
The kid squirmed a little, and kicked his leg, but he stayed across his brother's lap as he was SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! punished. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Tears streamed down his face, and he began grunting and groaning with each smack SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Soon his fanny was no longer white. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Finally, his tears turned to full fledged sobs, and with a SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Brandon told him to get up. There was total silence on the back porch.
"Come over here, Ben," Brandon finally said. I stood up and walked over to him. "I can excuse them for using bad judgement, but not you. You know better than this. They see you smoking weed and think it's cool. Well, it's not, and it has consequences. Drop your pants."
I wasn't expecting him to say that, but I found myself doing it. He spoke with such authority, and in my heart I knew it had been wrong to give those kids marijuana, so I obeyed. I guess I must've looked as mortified with my pants down as Eddie had. My only consolation was that, unlike my young friend, I was post-pubescent (or, at least, MID-pubescent).
Brandon took me across his lap and SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! began giving me the kind of punishment I had not had in years. He was a strong young man, and his hand caused more pain to my butt than I had thought it would. Ouch!!! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Yow!!! I found myself squirming around as he SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! firmly doled out my punishment.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! I felt the tears come, and no amount of trying could hold them back. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! My tender ass was not used to such a beating, and I was sure that if it went on much longer I would end up begging and pleading for him to stop.
Fortunately, the SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! spanking soon ended, and I was ordered to get up. I stood there next to Eddie, who had stopped sobbing but still had a wet face.
"Alex and Dexter," Brandon called out. "Have you two learned anything, or do I have to take you both over my knee, too?"
They mumbled that they'd learned to say No to Drugs.
"Never tell anyone what you did today, and never do it again," he told them. "Got it? Now go home, Eddie is done playing for the day."
The boys ran off as fast as they could.
"Ed, go to your room."
Eddie yanked his drawers up and scampered off to his room. Brandon stood and looked me in the eye.
"If I ever catch you giving my brother weed, your ass isn't going to be the only part of your body that hurts. Pull your pants up and get out of my sight."
I walked briskly across the street and was for the first time grateful that Corey didn't talk to me.
I marched up to my room, stripped my clothes off, and climbed into bed. It was too hot for covers, so I just laid there with my face buried in my pillow. I didn't go down for dinner, and didn't turn on the stereo or even a light. Eventually I fell asleep.
I woke up when someone turned on a light. I pulled a blanket over my behind and looked up. It was Brandon.
"Corey said it was okay to just come in."
"Oh. What do you want?"
"I want to say something." He sat down on my bed. "Sit up and talk to me, Ben."
He again used that authoritative tone, and I found myself complying. I wrapped the blanket around my waist and sat up.
"You were irresponsible, and it was a stupid thing to do, and you know that. But I'm not sure you know how much Eddie looks up to you. He combs his hair like you, he uses your expressions, dresses like you, and every other thing."
"Oh, I know he does."
"So you realize that he follows your example. I can yell and scream my head off and tell him not to do something, but if he sees you doing it, he's going to do it. And that's why I punished you like that in front of him. It was the only way to really get the point across to him that he shouldn't do that. If he saw you get away with it, it would blunt the impact of his own punishment. In as much as you had it coming to you, and it served the purpose, I don't regret doing it. But I know it must've been humiliating, and for that I'm sorry. I'm also sorry if jealousy played any part in it."
"Jealousy? I don't understand."
"You still don't see it, do you? He has fun with you. He talks to you about everything. He looks up to you. Whatever you say is cool. I can't compete with that."
"You're jealous of ME?" I said in disbelief. "You're his brother."
"No, I used to be his brother, until my dad died. Now I'm the guy who makes rules, hassles him about his homework, makes him clean his room, tells him to be home on time and never let's him have any fun. Of course I'm jealous of you, Ben. You get to have all the fun, with none of the responsibility."
"Are you saying that you don't want me around him anymore?"
"No, no, he'd only hate me for that. No, I guess . . . look, just set a good example for him, okay? Keep him out of trouble. That's all I'm trying to do here."
I was impressed by how much concern he had for the boy. Corey and I had never been that close even in the good old days.
"I'll do my best," I said. "Although I'm not too good at keeping MYSELF out of trouble. Unlike Eddie, I'm not lucky enough to have a brother who watches out for me."
"Corey doesn't keep you in line?"
"Yeah, right. Corey was the one who gave me the pot. There's no way he'd ever take the time and effort to punish me."
"You sound almost disappointed. Do you like being punished?"
"No, of course not. That's the whole idea behind punishment, isn't it? That it's unpleasant. If you know something unpleasant is going to happen to you if you break the rules, you're going to think twice about breaking them. If Corey had bothered to kick my ass when I screwed up, these last few years might've been different. But there haven't been any consequences for me to face, so I started doing whatever I felt like. And now it's too late; I have all these bad habits."
"It's not too late," he told me. "I've seen lots of guys at my school who've walked in with really bad attitudes, but with some discipline and some standards they are expected to meet, and--as you said--some consequences attached to their actions, they've turned right around. I was one of them, in fact. So, it's never too late to start over."
"Oh. Well, maybe you're right, then. I probably just need some discipline to straighten myself out. 'Cuz let me tell you, I can't even think about smoking a joint without thinking about how sore my ass is."
"Does it still hurt?"
"Oh yeah. I remember once my father telling me that if I didn't behave, I wouldn't be able to sit down for a month. I always thought that sort of talk was, you know, an exaggeration, but right now, I'm not so sure."
"Here, let me see," he said. He pulled the blanket away from my waist and took me across his lap again, only instead of hitting me he ran his fingertips lightly up and down my buns. My body tensed as he touched me, and he said ever so softly, "It's okay, now. It's okay."
It felt good, and I started to relax. I had always thought of him as being rather gruff and cold, and it surprised me how gentle he could be. His tender side made him seem all the more handsome and sweet.
I guess that's why, the next day, when Eddie and I were planning on riding our bikes to Chipmunk Lake State Park, I suggested that we invite Brandon along.
"What do we want that asshole hanging around us for?" he snipped.
"He's not an asshole. He's actually pretty cool, and I think he'd like to spend some time with you."
"Well I don't want to spend time with him. Not after what he did yesterday."
"Ed, you can't blame him for that. He's responsible for you, and when you do the wrong thing, he's supposed to punish you. I happen to know that he did it because you're the most important person in the world to him, and he doesn't--"
"He shouldn't have hurt you like that!" His eyes welled up as he spoke. "If he ever touches you again, he's dead."
"So that's what this is about. Eddie, did you notice me fighting him off?"
"No," he admitted.
"Do you know why I let him do it?"
"No."
"Because he was right to do it. I made a mistake, and you and the guys could've landed in real trouble because of it. If Brandon hadn't punished me, I might've made the same mistake again, and who knows what kind of deep _s_h_i_t_ we'd all be in. You're lucky to have him looking out for you, and I really want him to come to the Park with us today. Why don't you go ask him."
He wouldn't argue with me; he invited Brandon along, and we all had a great time (except for the fact that the stiff bike seats were hell on our sore behinds!).
Brandon came over to see me after dinner, alone.
"I appreciate what you did today, Ben. Letting me tag along with you two. Eddie wouldn't have given me that sort of chance on his own."
"Well," I replied, "A wise man once told me: it's never too late to start over."
"He was right, I guess."
"I hope so."
"Maybe we could make a deal. Since you're making an effort to help me out, I wouldn't mind helping you."
"How?"
"You don't have anyone to provide any discipline. I have plenty of experience in that area. I could help keep you in line."
"Oh, I get it, you want to spank me some more."
"Well, actually, the idea is to give you a reason to think twice about doing anything that might get you a spanking."
"Fair enough."
We shook on it.