by Frank Martinet
It took Ariel a moment to realize who the man was. He was calling her name, so she assumed she must know him, but her mind was blank. It was so out of place seeing him dressed in casual clothes and pushing a shopping cart through the grocery store.
"Headmaster Burrell!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Oh my God!"
"Do I look that old?" he said.
She blushed and babbled out an apology. "No, sir, I didn't mean that at all. You look great. Wonderful. You've hardly changed at all. It's only that I've never seen you in normal clothes. I mean, not wearing a suit and tie. You were always so formal."
He laughed. "You, I'd recognize anywhere. Ariel Limardi. You're not much taller, but you're still just as beautiful as ever."
Ariel shook her head bashfully. "Thank you, sir. But I'm afraid I have filled out... just not up!"
"If I recall, your petite size always bothered you, though I don't know why. You're adorable."
"I suppose we always want what we can't have," said Ariel. She waved to her high heels which, just barely, pushed her over five feet.
The man nodded solemnly. "Listen, I would love to catch up with you. But preferably not in the dairy aisle. Perhaps we could meet sometime?"
"Oh, that would be fun," said Ariel. "What are you doing this evening?"
"Putting away groceries," said the man with a wink and they both laughed. "How about you come to my place? I'll fix us a little meal."
"I don't want to put you out."
"It's no trouble. I bought some chicken and I thought I'd grill it and put it on a salad. Just as easy to make for two as for one."
Ariel found herself nodding. The man wrote down his address - so old-fashioned - and the two went their separate ways. She realized after that he hadn't mentioned a wife. Wasn't he married? Then she realized she didn't actually know. She had always assumed he had a family, but the lives of adults are mysterious to kids and she had been naive as a teenager.
She finished her shopping and went to her apartment and unloaded everything. It was almost six by then, and she found herself dressing up as though she was going on a date.
At first she'd put on a slinky red dress, one of her favorites, and then she decided that was inappropriate. She went back to jeans and a tee-shirt, but that seemed too casual. She finally settled on a black skirt and navy sweater, and it wasn't until she looked at herself in the mirror by the door that she realized she was dressed similar to her old school uniform. Her skirt wasn't pleated, but it was the same color and the same knee length, and the sweater was eerily like her school blazer.
It couldn't be a coincidence. Was she subconsciously wanting to be a student again?
There wasn't time to change, as she was supposed to be at Mr. Burrell's by seven. She was speeding a little to get there in time, worried since she didn't know the exact route. That's when she realized she was a panicking, as though being five minutes late would be the end of the world.
It's like I really am back at St. Melody's, she thought, forcing herself to slow down. She well remembered the penalty for being tardy. How many times had she been sent to Mr. Burrell to have her skirt raised and her panties paddled for being late? She wondered if he remembered, and then blushed as she decided he must. How else would he have recognized her? It wasn't like he taught her in a class. She only knew him from those discipline visits.
She parked in front of a small white house with a neatly kept lawn. Trees shaded the property giving it a secluded feel, though it was on a typical suburban street. Ariel checked her watch as she headed up the walk.
Four minutes late, she thought. That's four swats.
She couldn't help but smile at the idea of raising her skirt and bending over for paddle licks. In school she'd alternated between finding paddlings terrifying or annoying, but now, nearly a decade later, the concept made her feel nostalgic.
Probably wouldn't even hurt, she thought, pressing the buzzer on the door. After all, her bottom was a lot bigger now.
The door opened and there was her old headmaster. He was still wearing the same brown pants and golf-style shirt she'd seen at the grocery. It made him look completely different. Still dignified, like a retired doctor, but not the strict, formal man she remembered. She took more time to access him and decided that though he looked healthy, he'd gained a few pounds, and his hair was almost all gray now. She wondered how old he was. In school she'd thought him practically elderly, but he had probably been in his fifties. She'd thought he looked handsome back then, and now he was even better looking, or perhaps her tastes had changed. She blushed a little, remembering the dirty thrill she'd gotten from showing him her panties for a paddling.
He gracefully accepted the bottle of wine she'd brought, while politely telling her it wasn't necessary, and then poured them each an iced tea and suggested they save the wine for supper. He led her out onto a small deck at the back of the house where he had a gas grill fired up. She watched as he took two chicken breasts that had been soaking in marinade and laid them on the hot iron bars.
They talked while the meat cooked. She learned that Mr. Burrell had been married, but his wife had passed away three years earlier from cancer. He had a son in college. "He'll graduate next year with a degree in economics."
"Are you still Headmaster at St. Melody's?" she asked.
Burrell shook his head. "I took an early retirement when Janice became ill. It was for the best," he added, sensing her concern. "I wanted to be with her as much as I could."
"I'm so sorry."
"Thank you. But tell me about yourself," said the man. He moved to the grill and checked on the chicken. He had the heat on medium, so the meat would cook slowly. "I never get tired about hearing what my former pupils are doing."
Ariel blushed. "Nothing remarkable, I'm afraid. I went to college - got a degree in marketing. Met a guy, we almost got married, and then I found him cheating on me with my roommate."
"Ouch."
"Yeah. That sucked. I had to move out, it was a real mess. I struggled for a while. I was working at this tech startup. It was for peanuts, but had a great upside... until the company folded and I was left with nothing but a ton of credit card debt."
Ariel saw the man's grim expression and realized her story sounded terrible. She quickly moved ahead. "But the good news is that I stayed with my folks for a few months to get on my feet, got a great job with a financial services company, and now I've got my own apartment and things are fine."
"How long have you been back in town?"
"Just over a year."
"I'm surprised we haven't run into each other sooner."
"I live over on the west side. I don't usually shop over here, but I was needing a few things and I was here to see my parents so I ran into Thrifties."
Mr. Burrell nodded sagely and rotated the chicken. "This will be done in a few minutes. Let's get the salads ready."
They went into the house. He set out two large bowls and opened a package of spring mix, which he divided between them. He put the leftover in the bottom drawer of the fridge. Then he added shredded carrots, cherry tomatoes, olives, grated cheese, fresh avocado slices, and a light balsamic vinaigrette dressing.
Ariel took the salads outside and set them on the small table, while he brought out a plate and a long knife and began slicing the chicken breasts into thin strips. He then piled hot chicken on the salads.
"Oh my God, this is so yummy," said Ariel after the first bite.
"I've been trying to eat healthier," said the headmaster. "Doctor says I'm good for my age, but my metabolism isn't what it used to be. I can't do the teenage cheeseburger and pizza diet any more."
"This is perfect."
After they finished a lovely meal - not even needing the wine Ariel had brought, which she suggested the man save for another occasion - he cut some slabs of chilled watermelon for a light dessert.
"You're a wonderful cook," she told him.
He nodded. "Thank you. Janice couldn't do as much the last few years, so I took over the kitchen duties. I think I've gotten pretty good at it."
"You seem so different from what I remember," Ariel said. "I guess I never thought of you as being human. I mean, with a wife and family and all."
Mr. Burrell laughed. "You assumed I lived at the school and did nothing but beat naughty pupils with my cane?"
"Pretty much!"
He studied her thoughtfully. "I never did cane you, though, did I?"
She shook her head. "Just the paddle. I always wondered what the cane felt like. It terrified me. The paddle was bad enough!"
"It is rather surprising you made it all the way through school without the cane. As I recall, you visited my office for the paddle quite often."
"Just for little stuff," said Ariel, blushing. "Tardiness, gum chewing, talking in class, that sort of thing."
"Yes, you weren't a Bad Girl."
"Except for..." Ariel stopped, her face bright red. She hesitated, then told herself the statute of limitations on high school mischief had long expired. "You remember the rotten egging of the guest stands in the gym?"
"That one would be hard to forget. It took a week to clean up that mess. And the smell lasted for a month."
Ariel grinned diabolically. "You never did catch the vandals that did that."
"Oh no, we did. It was Patty Myers and her roommate Shana."
"What!"
"Found the empty egg cartons in their room. They denied it, of course, but the evidence was clear."
A chill went down Ariel's spine. Her stomach rumbled, while her brain rebelled at this new information. "I never heard about that. I thought..." She rapidly corrected her second "I" just in time. "I thought they got away with it."
"Nope. Caught them, caned them, and suspended them. I remember it vividly."
"They were caned?" Ariel felt sick. She remembered Patty well. The girl was a sweetheart. Never in trouble or a cross word with anyone. Ariel didn't feel quite so much affection for Shana, a senior girl who knew she was pretty and let it go to her head.
"Certainly. Twelve strokes each. Plus a three-day suspension."
"Ouch."
"Probably worse for Patty. Her folks were religious and strict, and followed that old maxim, 'Spanked at school, spanked at home.' She told me she was certain she'd get the belt. 'I'll get double my age'," she said."
"Seriously? She got belted at home after the caning at school?"
Mr. Burrell nodded grimly and sipped his iced tea. "With most girls I'd have thought she was exaggerating to get off the caning, but Patty wasn't like that. She was genuine."
"Yeah, I remember her."
Now Ariel really felt terrible. She remembered the egg cartons, but the details were lost in the fog of time. How had they ended up in Patty's room? She must have ditched them there and forgotten.
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