lunchtime, I ran into Mr. Trot as I was leaving my office. He told me how you conducted yourselves in his store."
When Papa paused to light his pipe, Theo inched a little closer to me, making it clear that I was forgiven. We were buddies again—the two of us against Papa.
"Edward started it," Theo muttered. "He took my whole allowance, he—"
"Be silent until you are spoken to," Papa thundered. "When I want your explanation, Theodore, I'll ask for it."
Theo hung his head.
Papa then repeated Mr. Trot's version of the events: Theo had knocked down a display of canned goods, we'd been sent outside, we'd brawled in the street like common hooligans.
"As if that weren't enough, your mother telephoned to tell me you disrupted her club meeting. You not only failed to control Buster but you laughed at his antics and actually encouraged his destructive behavior."
Papa produced from behind his back the tattered remains of Mrs. Armiger's straw hat. If I hadn't been so scared of Papa's temper, I would have laughed at the sight of it. Glowering at us both, he said, "Your allowance will cease until this has been paid for. The way I see it, you won't have a cent to spend till Christmas."
"Yes, sir," Theo and I whispered.
Turning to me, Papa said, "How often must I tell you I will not have you fighting with your cousin. No matter what Edward does to provoke you, you must walk away from him like a gentleman."
"But Papa—"
"I will tolerate no excuses," Laying his pipe on the railing, Papa unbuckled his belt. "Bend over, Andrew."
"Why?" I stared at him in disbelief. Surely Papa wasn't going to hit me.
"What do you mean, 'why?' I'm going to give you the whipping you deserve!"
Fear loosened my tongue, made me careless. "You're not my father, you have no right to touch me!"
"Don't try my patience, Andrew," Papa bellowed. "That sort of nonsense might fool Mama, but I'm not so easily deceived, my boy."
Seizing my arm, he whirled me around and brought the
belt down with a sharp whack on my rear end. The leather bit right through my trousers and stung my skin. I danced about, crying and trying to escape, but the more I struggled, the angrier Papa became. By the time he was done with me, I was sure I'd never sit down again.
Papa turned to Theo. "Your turn."
Giving me a scornful look, Theo clenched his teeth and took his whipping without a whimper. When Papa let him go, he hissed, "I don't know what in tarnation is wrong with you, Andrew. You never used to cry when Papa spanked you."
That night, I startled Andrew by striding right up to him in the attic and shoving my face close to his. For once, I was too angry to be scared of him. "You didn't tell me Papa beat you!"
Andrew raised his eyebrows. "Do you mean to say you finally earned a whipping?"
"It's not funny—he hit me with his belt!"
"Oh, horsefeathers. If Papa thought you deserved it, you probably did." Andrew studied my face. "I hope you didn't cry."
"Of course I did. It hurt!"
Andrew cradled his head in his hands. "How will I ever face Theo," he muttered. "I can't imagine what he thinks of me."
Stung by his lack of sympathy, I glared at Andrew. "My dad never hits me. Never! When I do something wrong, we talk about it. Fathers who beat their kids go to jail for child abuse."
"Truly?" Andrew smiled. "That's one more reason to keep winning—my rear end could do with a nice, long rest."
I watched him aim his aggie at the lag line. As usual, he went first. One after another, he shot seven miggles out of the ring. Click, click, clickety click, they rolled across the floor.
Andrew stood up to leave. "My game again."
"Wait." I grabbed his sleeve to stop him. "Don't go. I have to ask you something." Stumbling over words, I described my encounter with Edward. "I have to meet him at the railroad trestle next week. I'm supposed to do something when I get there, but he didn't say what...." My voice trailed away. The expression on Andrew's face told me he knew exactly what
When Papa paused to light his pipe, Theo inched a little closer to me, making it clear that I was forgiven. We were buddies again—the two of us against Papa.
"Edward started it," Theo muttered. "He took my whole allowance, he—"
"Be silent until you are spoken to," Papa thundered. "When I want your explanation, Theodore, I'll ask for it."
Theo hung his head.
Papa then repeated Mr. Trot's version of the events: Theo had knocked down a display of canned goods, we'd been sent outside, we'd brawled in the street like common hooligans.
"As if that weren't enough, your mother telephoned to tell me you disrupted her club meeting. You not only failed to control Buster but you laughed at his antics and actually encouraged his destructive behavior."
Papa produced from behind his back the tattered remains of Mrs. Armiger's straw hat. If I hadn't been so scared of Papa's temper, I would have laughed at the sight of it. Glowering at us both, he said, "Your allowance will cease until this has been paid for. The way I see it, you won't have a cent to spend till Christmas."
"Yes, sir," Theo and I whispered.
Turning to me, Papa said, "How often must I tell you I will not have you fighting with your cousin. No matter what Edward does to provoke you, you must walk away from him like a gentleman."
"But Papa—"
"I will tolerate no excuses," Laying his pipe on the railing, Papa unbuckled his belt. "Bend over, Andrew."
"Why?" I stared at him in disbelief. Surely Papa wasn't going to hit me.
"What do you mean, 'why?' I'm going to give you the whipping you deserve!"
Fear loosened my tongue, made me careless. "You're not my father, you have no right to touch me!"
"Don't try my patience, Andrew," Papa bellowed. "That sort of nonsense might fool Mama, but I'm not so easily deceived, my boy."
Seizing my arm, he whirled me around and brought the
belt down with a sharp whack on my rear end. The leather bit right through my trousers and stung my skin. I danced about, crying and trying to escape, but the more I struggled, the angrier Papa became. By the time he was done with me, I was sure I'd never sit down again.
Papa turned to Theo. "Your turn."
Giving me a scornful look, Theo clenched his teeth and took his whipping without a whimper. When Papa let him go, he hissed, "I don't know what in tarnation is wrong with you, Andrew. You never used to cry when Papa spanked you."
That night, I startled Andrew by striding right up to him in the attic and shoving my face close to his. For once, I was too angry to be scared of him. "You didn't tell me Papa beat you!"
Andrew raised his eyebrows. "Do you mean to say you finally earned a whipping?"
"It's not funny—he hit me with his belt!"
"Oh, horsefeathers. If Papa thought you deserved it, you probably did." Andrew studied my face. "I hope you didn't cry."
"Of course I did. It hurt!"
Andrew cradled his head in his hands. "How will I ever face Theo," he muttered. "I can't imagine what he thinks of me."
Stung by his lack of sympathy, I glared at Andrew. "My dad never hits me. Never! When I do something wrong, we talk about it. Fathers who beat their kids go to jail for child abuse."
"Truly?" Andrew smiled. "That's one more reason to keep winning—my rear end could do with a nice, long rest."
I watched him aim his aggie at the lag line. As usual, he went first. One after another, he shot seven miggles out of the ring. Click, click, clickety click, they rolled across the floor.
Andrew stood up to leave. "My game again."
"Wait." I grabbed his sleeve to stop him. "Don't go. I have to ask you something." Stumbling over words, I described my encounter with Edward. "I have to meet him at the railroad trestle next week. I'm supposed to do something when I get there, but he didn't say what...." My voice trailed away. The expression on Andrew's face told me he knew exactly what
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