Mrs. McConnal XI

Note From The Editor: The writer of this very nice story sent it to me and asked to remain anonymous. However, I have his e-mail address, so if you want to tell him what you think about his story you can email me ([email protected]) and I will make sure he gets your comments.

Chapter Eleven: Church

I got up in plenty of time that Sunday morning to take a long shower, letting my imagination run wild. I got dressed in my regular clothes and listened to see if anyone else was up. I heard something in the kitchen and went to see which one of them it was. It was Pretty Lady. She was fixing breakfast. ['Fixing' is another Southernism. It means 'to prepare'. Breakfast didn't need any repairing.]

"Good morning." she said cheerfully. She was in her house robe, her long black hair simply tied in a pony tail rather than in the bun as she wore it when dressed to go out. "Jed's in the living room with the paper. I'm sure he'll share it with you if you like."

I needed to speak with him, too. "Mr. McConnal?" He looked up from his paper. He was still in his pajamas, too. It occurred to me that they may realized from the fact that I was dressed, that I didn't have any pajamas and had slept in my briefs, embarrassed again.

"Yes, Jeremy?"

"Mr. McConnal, I'm sorry for what I put y'all through the other night and for being so much trouble to y'all. And I want you to know that I am grateful for you having taken care of me. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Jeremy," he said seriously, "you scared Catherine very bad Friday night. She's real fond of you, son. She has been ever since you first started stopping by this house. You are very special to her, and she loves you very much. Please don't ever scare her like that again."

"I won't, Mr. McConnal." I hung my head in shame. I was getting altogether too much practice at this. "Mrs. McConnal is real special to me, too. And I would never mean to hurt her for anything. I am sorry. It won't ever happen again. I promise."

"Good." and his lecture was over. "Now let's go get some breakfast. I'll bet Cathy's got it ready by now."

After breakfast we all got our Sunday clothes on and for the first time in years I actually went into a church with a family. It was a truly unique experience for me, and I had no idea what to expect from any Sunday school class.

We got there early so that Mrs. McConnal could get me in the right sunday school class for my age (not for my school grade). I know she was thinking that it would be good for me to meet some kids my own age and maybe church was a place where I could make friends that I could socialize with better than the older kids at school. We passed Clark, and a couple of others in the hall and they all greeted me as if they were happy to see me there.

But I think it was a mistake putting me in a class of 10-12 year olds. They knew who I was. (I was always surprised when anyone I had not met knew who I was.) I didn't say much except to exchange greetings.

"We're so glad to have little Jeremy with us this morning, aren't we children?" I couldn't believe this Sunday school teacher was talking to us like that. "Jeremy, I'm Miss Kringle. Just like Chris Kringle." Yeah, Chris Kringle. Let's get on with this. (I did understand not to say a word in this class. If I disrupted this class Mrs. McConnal would know it in 5 minutes. Besides I'd only be here one day, and then ciao.)

She taught a fascinating lesson on how we should always obey our parents and teachers, because that's the way God wants it. "and when our parents sometimes spank us, it's to make us better people, isn't it?" Jesus Fucking Christ, lady, what's this 'US' shit? Your parents beat the hell out of you anytime lately?

"And they want to raise us to be good Christians, don't they?"

"Yes, ma'am." a few of the sheep responded.

"And we all want to go to heaven when we die, don't we?" God damn, lady, first you tell me about getting beat and now about dying. I've heard just about enough about both of those subjects this weekend to last me a lifetime.

And she went on, "And our teachers and principal are all on our side. remember 'principal' is spelled with a 'pal'." She laughed at her own joke. I didn't. God Almighty, how long do I have to listen to this insipid shit?

Lady, I ain't no good boy. I ain't striving to be no good boy. Jesus don't want me for no sunbeam.. And once I get out of here, I ain't never coming back to listen to this horse shit again.

Seconds were turning into hours listening to this woman. Is she really this stupid or does she just think we're this stupid? I wasn't curious enough to come back and find out.

Mr. McConnal asked me how it was when we met back up after class. "Well," I said, searching for an honest but kind answer, "I guess she did the best she could."

Pretty Lady laughed, "Oh, lord, I won't send you back to that class again."

"I appreciate that." I said, straight faced.

Church was not so bad. The music was good enough, but the long commercial in between went on too long.

We spent the afternoon in her garden. I brought a pair of guy shorts in case we did. They weren't quite long enough to cover the bruises on my upper thighs, but I could live with that.

She scheduled an unusual rehearsal for Sunday night, to make up for the one I ruined on Friday. On the way home that evening I remembered that she was the only person I had not apologized to. So I did. I tried to be manly and grown up about it, but wound up sniffling anyway. I told her how much I appreciated all that she had done for me that weekend, that I was sorry that I put her in that situation, but how grateful I was for her taking such good care of me. I knew she didn't owe me that. I wasn't hers. Then I blurted out, "but I sometime wish I was." too embarrassed my that to face her as I said it.

"Sometimes I do, too, Jeremy." Oh God, did she really!? "Are you really thanking me for everything?"

"Yes, ma'am, I am." I said sheepishly. "No one else ever spanked me like that before. I thought it was supposed to be degrading and humiliating, and to an extent it was, but I . . . " Could I say this? "But I know you wouldn't do anything to me that was only to hurt me. I know . . . "

"You do know I love you don't you, Jeremy?"

"Yes ma'am. . . . And I love you, too."
 

The End