Chapter Two
The Last Straw
    Mark and Patricia knew the next few years would be very challenging, but right now, their main concern was young Ricky. Over the past few weeks, Ricky had become distant from them and now Mark had just been told that Ricky was in Mr. Parkers office again. Patricia had gone to town to do some Christmas shopping, so when he got word, Mark headed to Mr. Parkers office to see what kind of Trouble young Ricky had gotten himself into this time. Angry and a bit frustrated, Mark walked from the church to the school as quickly as he could. Wondering why Ricky would be in trouble so soon, especially since they had just talked about it. Had the two visits last week to the principal office not been enough? Had being punished to his room after school for three days not been enough? As Mark entered the main door, he could hear Mr. Parker�s scolding voice through the office door as it carried down the hall. Mark knew this was not a good sign. He paused at the door, and then knocked lightly.

     �Come in!� Mr. Parker said.

     When Mark entered, Ricky�s eyes widened. �Dad, I can explain! Just let me explain!�

     Mark reached over and placed his hand on Ricky�s shoulder. �You will get to explain, but I would like to know just what you have done that needs explaining.�

     Ricky swallowed hard. Thoughts of what he had done ran quickly through his mind, but he couldn�t think of any explanation that would excuse his behavior. Ricky looked at Mark, and then at Mr. Parker. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Ricky slowly cast his eyes to the floor. He knew how this day was going to end.    

     �Mark, You�re boys� misbehavior in class has got to stop! He is old enough to know better, and I for one, don�t understand such behavior in a boy of his age. �Talking back to his teacher, and writing rude things on the board are one thing. You think talking to him and appealing to his side of common sense would put a stop to it, but it hasn�t.� Mr. Parker turned and looked at Ricky. �Richard! This is the third time in five days that you have been before me for disciplinary measures. I have been patient and very lenient with you, have I not?�

     �Yes, sir. You have,� Ricky whispered.

      �I do not know what has gotten into you, young man, but rest assured, Whatever it is, the paddle will take care of!�

     A flash of hot ran through Ricky�s body. Ricky�s eyes followed Mr. Parker as he turned around and opened the cupboard  behind his desk.

     Ricky felt his father�s hand tighten on his shoulder. �I think you had best tell me why the principal has decided to whack you with the paddle, don�t you?�

     Though he knew it would do no good, Ricky quickly turned to Mark, and as tears developed, he started to explain. �It was a dare. I was dared to do it!�

     �You were dared to do what, Ricky?�

     His mind raced as he thought about what he had done. In his own mind, he couldn�t even justify his actions, and to say them aloud only set his guilt even more. Suddenly he felt the solid grip of Mr. Parker�s hand. Ricky�s face squinted in anguish as he looked at Mr. Parker.

     �Are you going to tell your father what you�ve done?�

     Ricky turned again and looked at Mark. �I don�t know why I did it. I swear I don�t!�

     Frustrated and out of patience, Mr. Parker gripped Ricky by the shirt collar and pulled him around. �You are out of time, young man!�

     Mark quickly stepped in �Dad, Wait! I want Ricky to take responsibility and tell me what he has done.�

     Ricky was half way into a position that would afford the paddle appropriate aim when his father spoke. Suddenly he felt Mr. Parker�s hand leave his shoulder. Slowly Ricky stood straight, and faced his father. Mark  approached Ricky again and placed his hand on his shoulder.

     �I want to know what you�ve done that has gotten you into so much trouble, and I want to know now!�

     Ricky knew his father had been real patient with him so this time he knew he had to tell. �I, I wrote something about Mr. Dillion on the board, and  I glued one of his books shut.�

     Ricky looked up at Mark, and watched for which expression his words would bring to his dad�s face. Ricky knew if Mark squeezed his shoulder tighter, and raised his brow, then more questions would come and more explanation would be expected. He knew if Mark removed his hand, placed them on his hips and tightened his jaw, that meant Mark was angry with him, and that he was in for more than just a few whacks from the principals� paddle. If Mark�s chin lowered and his eyes drooped, he knew that meant that his father was disappointed in him and what punishment he would receive would come much later in the evening after Mark had time to think. Ricky hoped Mark would want time to think. Before he could finish his thoughts, he felt Mark squeeze his shoulder, and his brow went up. Ricky qulped.

     �What did you write on the board, Richard?�

     Ricky looked out of the corner of his eye. Mr Parker stood just an arms length away with paddle still in hand, waiting.

     �Don�t you look at Mr. Parker! I asked you a question, and I expect an answer from you right this minute!�

     Ricky looked at Mark and his voice quivered. I wrote Dillon is a Dickhead.� As soon as the words came out, Mark�s jaw tightened, and he looked away. Ricky knew he was in serious trouble. Mark�s grip grew a little tighter, and Ricky squinted, but he never took his eyes off of Mark.

     �Everyone saw what you wrote?�

     Ricky nodded.�

     �And did everyone laugh when they saw what you had written?�

     �Yes, sir!�

     �Did you think what you did was funny too?�

     �When I did it, but not now.� Ricky replied.

     Mark removed his hand, and placed them on his hips. His voice grew deep, and calm. �You did this to Mr. Dillon on a dare?�

     �Dare?�

     Mark raised his voice in anger and impatience. �Yes! You said you did this because someone dared you! Did someone dare you, Richard?�

     Ricky looked at the floor and then back to Mark. �No, sir.� He replied.

     Mark clinched his teeth and a small growl escaped. He reached over and held his hand out to Mr. Parker, who in turn handed him the paddle. Ricky stiffened. This was worse than he had expected.

     Mark grabbed Ricky by the arm and headed for the door. �You took it upon yourself to embarrass your teacher in front of his class, Let�s see just how funny it is to get paddled in front of your classmates.�

     Unwillingly Clutched by his fathers hand, Ricky scuffled and tugged as they walked down the hall toward his class. Mr. Parker followed. When they opened the door of the classroom, Mr. Dillon stopped right in the middle of his instruction. All of the kids sitting in the class, turned their eyes to Mark, and Ricky.

     Mark led Ricky to the front of the class. He glanced at the board, and then to the teacher. Mark handed the paddle to Mr. Dillon, and then lifted the piece of paper that had been taped to cover the degrading words. �This is appalling, and downright disrespectful. I am ashamed of you, Richard.� Mark covered the words and then clutched Ricky�s shoulders. He swiftly placed Ricky at the side of Mr. Dillon�s desk and pushed him forward. Ricky reached out with his hands and placed them on the desk, but Mark grabbed his left hand and pulled it away from the surface of the desk. Suddenly Ricky felt the coolness of the desk surface against his left cheek. His father�s hand rested between his shoulders, and Ricky let his other hand fall. He clutched the side of the desk as he felt someone grab one of the loops on the waistband of his pants, and tug him so that he was aligned with the teachers desk. Ricky�s feet scooted further away from the desk. When his eyes focused, and he came to realize just where he was, and who was staring at him, Ricky tried to stand.

     �You stay right where you are!� Mark scolded. �Mr. Dillon! I do believe that Mr. Parker was about to administer swats to this young man for his mischief. I think it would be the proper thing to do to let you administer them.�

     Mr. Dillon raised the paddle up and gave it a little shake. �Did you have a particular number in mind, Mr. Parker?�

     Ricky lay helpless, Knowing what was about to happen and that this event would surely bring him to tears in front of all of his friends, he wondered if he would ever be able to show his face again.

     �I think six should be enough, don�t you?�

     Before Mr. Dillon had a chance to answer, and before Ricky could stop himself, he answered.

     �Yes!�

     Suddenly, Ricky felt someone grip the waist of his pants, and then (Whack!) Ricky jerked forward and felt heat rush through him. He wasn�t prepared for the swat, or the response that escaped him. Quickly a second and then a third landed. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes for he knew the swats weren�t from his teacher, he had been in this position before and he knew the kind of sting that came from the paddle when Mr. Parker was behind it.

     �Mr. Dillon! Six swats, and then we will let Richard take his seat, and I assure you, he will behave himself.� Mr. Parker stated,� he stated as he handed the paddle back to Mr. Dillon.

     At the thought of having to stay in this position and take six more, Ricky closed his eyes tightly. He couldn�t bare to look at the kids who were watching him. Ricky jerked forward again as the paddle struck his behind. He opened his eyes briefly, but closed them again when he felt the paddle land again and then again. Mr. Dillon didn�t swat as hard as Mr. Parker, but the paddle still hurt, and it made tears sting his eyes. When it was all over and Ricky was let to stand, he wanted so much to run from the room and never come back. Maybe this was how Mr. Dillon felt when he saw the hurtful words on the blackboard. Suddenly Ricky felt bad for writing them. Ricky wiped his tear as he turned and faced the three men. 

     �When school is over, you go straight to your room,� Mark ordered.

     �Yes, Sir.�

     �Go and take your seat, Ricky,� Mr. Dillon said.

     Ricky started to turn, but stopped. �I�m sorry for what I wrote on the board. I�m sorry if I embarrassed you, Sir.

     Mr. Dillon gave Ricky a half smile. �I sure hope so. Now go and take your seat.�

     While the three man stood and talked quietly, Ricky slowly made his way toward his seat in the back of the class. His bottom throbbed from the nine whacks, and he didn�t know just how he was suppose to stay seated at his desk with all of that pain that was going on in the seat of his pants. As he started to sit, the girl across from him grabbed her sweater from the back of her chair and handed it to Ricky.

     �Sit on it!� she whispered. �Maybe it will help some.�

     Ricky wiped his tears again and smiled at her the best he could. The remaining forty-five minutes of class was very difficult for Ricky. It hurt so bad to sit, and when the bell rang to dismiss, he was the first to stand. He was also the first one out of the classroom.

     Ricky didn�t even wait for Wendy to get out of class like he usually did. He worked his way through the crowded hall, and headed to his room. While he lay on his stomach on his bed, he couldn�t help but to worry. He wondered what kind of a scolding he was going to get from Patricia, and he wondered if he could talk her into getting him out of whatever kind of punishment Mark had in store for him.

     Suddenly the door flew open, and Sam came skipping in. When he saw Ricky lying on the bed, he stopped skipping and went to the side of the bed.

     �Ricky, are you sick?�

     Ricky sniffled, and wiped his tears. �No, I got paddled today in class, and I just want to be left alone for a while.�

     Sam reached over and touched Ricky�s arm. �I�m sorry you got in trouble, Ricky. What can I do?�

     Ricky spoke softly �Go downstairs and find something to do. I want to be alone!�

     Sam slid his hand away, turned and left the room.  

     A few minutes later, Sam returned. �Ricky, can I come back now?� he asked.

     Ricky sat up and looked at Sam. It�s ok if you want to stay, but I don�t feel much like talking.�

     �Does Mark know you got paddled?�

     Ricky nodded. �He was there.�

     �Who whacked you?�

     �Mr. Parker, and then my teacher.�
     �Oh. What did you do to get whacked?� Sam asked.

     Ricky swung his feet around and sat on the side of his bed. He pulled Sam close and told him about what he had done, and although he thought it was funny at the time, he didn�t want Sam to think it was ok, so he made sure Sam knew how wrong it was, and that it wasn�t worth being paddled over.

     �What do you think Mother is going to say?� Sam asked.

     Ricky looked at the ground �I�m more worried about what Mark is going to do to me!�

     �You think he�s gonna whip ya?�

     �I don�t know for sure,� Ricky replied.

     Sam gave Ricky a quick hug. You�ve been really nice to me, Ricky. I hope you don�t get it!�

     Ricky hugged Sam back. �You know it�s almost four-thirty, Don�t you have a reading lesson now?� Ricky asked.

     �Oh, yeah!� Sam let go of Ricky, grabbed his book and headed out of the door

     Ricky lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling trying to get his mind off of his troubles. When that didn�t work, he pulled out his math book. Though it was Friday afternoon, Ricky thought it would be best if he did his homework. Maybe Mark would be impressed with his enthusiasm and would reconsider any punishment he might intend to inflict on him. When Ricky closed his History book, he looked at the clock. It was after supper and so far neither Mark nor Patricia had paid him a visit, nor had anyone brought him anything to eat. He had no idea what to do with himself now except sit and wait.

     At quarter past six, Ricky heard the bedroom door rattle. His stomach tightened, but relaxed when David entered the room with a tray of food.

     �I was beginning to think everyone had forgotten about me.�

     �Dad said for me to bring you some food. When you�re done, he said to sit the tray outside the door.� David set the tray down on the table, and then turned toward the door.

     �David, where is Mom?�

     David turned just as he approached the door. �she and Dad are eating.� David walked out and closed the door behind him.

     When Ricky finished his supper, he put the tray outside of the door like he had been told. He wondered if his mother was going to come and see him before Mark did, he sure hoped so. He desperately wanted to talk to her.

     Since school let out, Ricky knew there was a possibility that Mark was going to whip him. He expected it sooner than now, and though the hours had passed and the chance of such a thing happening, lessened, Ricky didn�t totally dismiss it. In fact since he set the tray out into the hall, it was all that he could think about. Was he going to put up a fight if Mark tried? Or would he just submit and get it over with. As he paced back and forth, he wondered if Wendy was mad at him for getting into trouble. He wished he could talk to Wendy and that she would tell him what to do, or he wished that Patricia would come so he could talk to her, but no one came.

     The events of the day exhausted his mind, and Ricky didn�t know how much longer he could take waiting. He finally took a seat in the window and listened as voices passed, and doors in the hall opened and closed. Suddenly, Ricky heard the knob turn, and his stomach tightened. He hoped it was Sam, or Patricia, but when the figure slipped through the opening, it wasn�t Sam and it wasn�t Patricia. Not knowing for sure what Mark intended to do, Ricky tried not to look frightened. As Mark closed the door behind him, Ricky examined his face for clues, but none were given. Ricky watched as Mark glanced at him for a second, shook his head slightly, and then reached for his belt. Ricky�s stomach jumped into his throat, and he clinched his fists. Was he going to submit? Or was he going to put up a fight. Ricky still didn�t know what to do. He watched Mark pull the belt from the loops and double it. Ricky�s face suddenly felt flushed, and his heart began to beat rapidly.

     Mark finally spoke. �I don�t want to do this, but I think you know why this has to be done.�

     Not knowing where it came from, Ricky nodded.

     Mark took a couple of steps toward Ricky and then motioned with his free hand for Ricky to come. Suddenly, Ricky knew fighting this would be worse for him than submitting. He slowly stood, and walked with caution, toward Mark.

     Ricky could tell by Mark�s grip of his upper arm, that the punishment was going to be merciless. He just hoped that with his cooperation, it would be swift. Mark turned Ricky away from him. Suddenly tears came from nowhere, and started to run down his face. Ricky turned his head and looked over his shoulder. �Dad,� Ricky cried.

     Mark gave Ricky a stern tug that turned him away. �Bend!� Mark ordered.

     Ricky went forward when his dad tugged on his arm. Once again, his face met the coolness of smooth polished wood. His wrists were swiftly pulled back and secured by Mark�s large hand. When the belt hit his behind, Ricky�s body jumped and stiffened. With his cheek pressed against the table top, the cry that came out, sounded odd. He had taken whippings before, and rarely ever cried after the first lick. It was followed quickly with a second and then a third. Ricky squinted his eyes together and let them flood with tears.

     Mark raised the belt, and administered a third, followed quickly by a forth and then a fifth.

     Ricky sucked in his breath and let out one long cry of agonizing pain. He wondered how far his painful cries carried. He wondered how many knew what was happening to him, but mostly, he wondered when it would be over.
Ricky suddenly felt Mark grab his pants by the waist.

     �You keep that butt right there, or I will bare it! Do you understand?�

     Ricky realized he must have moved his bottom to try to avoid the stinging licks. �Yes sir,� he wailed. With bottom, back in position, Mark raised the belt again.

     Ricky made sure he didn�t let his bottom fall below aim again, for he knew he wouldn�t be able to take this kind of a licking willingly, if Mark were to do so. Ricky kept his position until the last lick fell, at fourteen. When he felt Mark release his hands, he knew it was over.

     �Stand up!� Mark ordered.

     Ricky slowly stood and turned to face Mark.

     Mark started to put the belt back into his loops. �Put your pajamas on, and get into bed!�

     Shaking and sobbing, Ricky replied. �Yes, Sir.� Ricky slowly started for his bed and when he reached up under his pillow for his pajamas, he heard his bedroom door open and then close. Ricky knees fell to the floor, and his head came to rest on the side of his bed. Though he knew he deserved to be punished, his heart ached by the stern unforgiving manner in which he was punished. He knew Mark loved him, and he knew why he had been dealt with in such a way, but it made him feel terrible. After a couple of minutes, Ricky stood up and pulled his pajamas out from under his pillow. He stripped down to his underwear, tossed his pajamas to the end of his bed, and crawled in. He had barely made it into bed, when the door slightly opened. Ricky looked up, and when Patricia walked into the room, Ricky quickly wiped his tears.

     �I came to tell you goodnight,� she said softly as she took a spot on the bed beside him. Ricky didn�t say anything.

     Patricia reached over and stroked his hair. �You have to know how difficult a time your father had when he decided to whip you tonight, don�t you?�

     Again, Ricky didn�t say anything.

     Patricia leaned down and kissed the top of Ricky�s head. Ricky reached up and wrapped his arm around her neck and began to sob again.

     �I�ve been up here all day since school, and all I could think about was what I did today to my teacher. I wanted to talk to you but you didn�t come up. I wanted to tell Dad how sorry I was, but I didn�t get the chance,� Ricky cried. �He didn�t give me a chance. He didn�t even ask me. He didn�t even talk to me. He just held me down and whipped me.�

     �I�m sorry I didn�t come up. Sarah has been sick, and I�ve been tending to her needs. I know you needed me too, but I couldn�t come.

     �He didn�t even ask me if I was sorry. He just whipped me, and never gave me a chance,� Ricky cried.

     �Richard, I�m sorry your father was so hard on you. He does love you, and I�m sure tomorrow he will talk to you.�

     �It�s too late!� Ricky cried. �It�s too late for that now.�

     �Wait until tomorrow, Ricky, wait until tomorrow.�

     Patricia rubbed Ricky�s back and stroked his hair until he fell asleep.
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