by Steve Timmons
"John, I can't stand this anymore!"
It was Thursday afternoon; three days since I had experienced at Susan's hand a punishment so severe that my bottom still bore many tender bruises from the 12 searing cane strokes that had marked its culmination.
At the moment, I was laying face down on her couch while she gently applied a fresh coating of Noxzema to said battered butt, as both she and my sister Ann had done each day since Monday. The past three days had been... well, creepy. Susan, for all her solicitude, hadn't smiled in my presence once, and even Ann, usually the most upbeat person you'd ever meet, acted like she was walking on eggshells whenever she was around me.
So at Susan's sudden plaintive outburst, I lifted my head from its resting position on my folded arm and turned to look back toward her. She continued her gentle massage, even as she added, "Can we please talk about the elephant in the room?"
"What do you mean?" I asked dumbly, unfamiliar at the time with that particular expression.
"This," she said, giving a relatively undamaged part of my left cheek a slight squeeze. "This and how it got into this sorry condition."
She paused for a moment and I started to get up but she stopped me.
"Stay still please; I'm not finished with the Noxzema yet."
Dropping back onto the couch, I waited for her to go on. After what seemed like forever, Susan began to speak what was on her mind.
"I have been lying awake nights trying to figure out how to start this conversation, or I should say this confession . To my undying shame, three days ago, for a minor transgression, I brutalized my best friend."
Struck by the word 'brutalized' I tried to interrupt but Susan said, "Please hear me out first, John, then you can say whatever you want, okay?"
"Okay."
"John, in the eight years or so since Aunt Cynthia put me through the enhanced version of 'Spanking School', I have been involved in countless numbers of spanking situations, on both sides of the equation, as a baby sitter, in my sorority, in a variety of consensual situations like with Paul Robertson and David and you. Never, in all that time, have I experienced or done to anyone else what I did to you on Monday. It was grossly excessive.
"I broke all of Aunt Cynthia's rules. I let my emotions cloud my judgment. I punished you in anger and for something you hadn't even done. I punished you for the anger I still felt at David for having killed himself. Cynthia would be so ashamed of me; I'm ashamed of me!"
"Susan, I think 'brutalized' is a little dramatic. After all, it wasn't much worse than that paddling in your classroom a few weeks ago."
"Well, that's debatable but, either way, it doesn't matter. You set yourself up, more or less voluntarily, for that paddling but certainly not for this," she replied, emphasizing her words with another little squeeze.
"The thing I don't understand is why you let me do it. You were obviously in very great distress and we both know that any time you chose, you could have stood up, taken the cane away and turned it on me yourself."
"Susan," I answered softly, "if you remember, you made it clear that I had two choices: to submit to the punishment or leave and never come back. The idea that we might no longer be friends was more threatening to me than either the belt or the cane, so I took the punishment."
"You're right, John; you're absolutely right! So now we add emotional blackmail to my list of abuses!"
"Since we're being honest with one another, I have my own confession to make. That's not the only reason I stayed. I also stayed because I felt that I should be punished. I was ashamed, too. The look on Sheriff Dan's face when he saw it was me he had stopped was like a dagger through my heart. The man has been a second father to me. He mentored me all through Scouts. I seriously doubt that I would have completed the Eagle program without his support. Then, a minute later, you drove by.
"The realization that I had so easily broken my promise to my best friend and had diminished myself in the eyes of a man who had treated me like I was his own son made me feel lower than whale crap. When you asked me about what you saw, I just knew I had to tell the truth, in spite of what you had warned me to expect. If I had lied then, or backed out later, I would have had no self respect left."
For a little while, there was only silence. In fact, if it hadn't been for the feel of Susan's hands still gently working the Noxzema into my butt, I might have thought that I was alone in the room. Finally, I said, "What it looks like to me, Susan, is that we both made mistakes and, in doing so, caught each other at an emotional crossroads; now, we have to find a way to pick up the wreckage and get things back to normal."
"That's right, as far as it goes," she replied, "but you've been punished, way over punished, for your mistake. I still have to account for mine."
"Are you planning to call your father, again?" I asked, thinking back to the fire in the barn.
"No, I can't be running home to Daddy every time I have a problem. Anyway, you're the aggrieved party here. This should be between the two of us. I think it's only fair that you be the one to punish me."
"Susan, if you're talking about me caning you so I can get even, forget it!"
"John, I know revenge isn't even a word in your vocabulary. I'm talking about justice and fairness. Corny as it may sound to others, my family code is something I grew up with and still believe in. I've admitted what I did was wrong. I am more sorry than words can possibly express for how I abused you and our friendship and I am ready to face the consequences of my actions. I'll accept whatever you decide is right."
"Susan, before this conversation goes any further, I really need to get up and get dressed. This massage is much too distracting right now."
With that little detail attended to, I sat on the couch and motioned for her to sit next to me. Putting my arm around her shoulder as a gesture of reassurance, I said, "Let's start by you telling me more about David."
Remember, this all happened in the 1970's. No one had heard of PTSD or grief counselors back then and I was certainly no psychologist but I was my father's son and I remembered how often he had helped solve my problems, big and small, by saying "let's talk about it" ... so this seemed to me like the logical way to begin.
I felt her body tense up just a bit at first but then she relaxed and leaned closely against me and began to talk. Once she started, it was like the floodgates had been opened and the words came pouring out. I just listened as she went on for nearly an hour recounting the love and joy of her all too brief time with David. Even allowing for the natural tendency we all have to romanticize the memories of the best times in our lives, it was clear that David was quite a guy and that Susan loved him deeply.
Toward the end she said, "I used to think of him often but last Friday, when you let me drive your beautiful new car, I realized that it had been months since I had given him even a moment's thought and I felt terribly guilty about that."
"Obviously, I never knew David so if this sounds presumptuous, I'm sorry, but from what you've told me about him this afternoon, I seriously doubt that he'd want you to feel that way."
"It's not presumptuous and, what's more, you're right. Honestly, John, I've enjoyed telling you about him. Thank you for asking me to do that. And I meant what I said Monday afternoon. I really do see in you the same qualities I saw in David."
"Well," I told her, "I take that as a compliment."
"You should," she said, looking up at me with the first smile I had seen on her face in days.
"Would you do me a favor, please? Could you wait until tomorrow before you punish me and bring Ann with you when you do?"
"What's Ann got to do with it?"
"She's pretty mad at me right now and I think it might help if she were here as a witness."
"You could have fooled me," I answered. On Tuesday, she told me I got what I deserved."
"That was before I talked to her."
"Ann called you?"
"No. I called her Tuesday afternoon because I was concerned about you. I asked her to help keep an eye on you and to put more antiseptic ointment on your bruises every day. I told her I would do the same. She asked me what had happened and I told her. When I had finished, she said, and I quote, 'You crazy bitch! How could you do that to my brother? That boy would walk barefoot over broken glass for you! Are you completely heartless?'
"The only reason Ann said what she did to you is that she figured you hadn't told her the whole story, but when she found out otherwise, she really let me have it. I promised her I was going to make it right with you and she told me that she didn't want to hear from me again until I had. So, Ann has to be here to see that I have accepted my responsibility and my punishment."
Ann and I had always had a close relationship. We were almost a little family unto ourselves because of the separation in years from our three older sisters. So, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised at her fierce reaction. Still, I could see that I would have to talk with her.
To Susan, I said, "Tomorrow afternoon will be fine and I'll ask Ann to come, too."
"Thank you, and don't let her say no."
Later Thursday night, while Ann was taking her turn doctoring my butt, I went through my conversation with Susan. Ann was at least partially mollified, especially after I told her about David, and she agreed to be a witness to Susan's chastisement on Friday afternoon.
Friday afternoon, I let Ann drive my car over to Susan's. As we started to get out, I put a hand on Ann's arm and said to her, "Remember, it took a fair bit of courage for Susan to ask to be punished and even more to ask that you be here. Give her credit for that and try to be nice!"
Ann agreed and promised to behave.
Susan welcomed us in the kitchen and I was pleased to see Ann initiate a hug which Susan, of course, happily returned. Susan asked if we wanted anything; both Ann and I asked for water. Then, nervously she said to me, "I don't want you to think I'm trying to tell you what to do but I have prepared some things in the game room, if that's okay."
"That will be fine. We can go out whenever you're ready."
Responding that she was as ready as she would ever be, she led us out to the game room. As soon as we walked in the door, I was amazed by the sight that greeted us.
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