This short story is an entry in the 2002 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Period
A Grown Man
By
Henry kept his face turned left where the glow of the fireplace might not discover his bruising eye. Might not betray him to Father, who sat in the rocking chair next to the fireplace. His worn, leather Bible upon his lap.
"Henry -- is something wrong with your neck, Son?"
"No, Father." Henry shifted his body toward the shadows.
"Son, look at me." Father sighed as Henry turned. "You've been fightin' again, have ya?"
"Father, I had to. Our family honor was at stake."
"Oh, I doubt it was in that much trouble." Father closed the Bible and set it on the table. "I've always taught ya not to fight, haven't I, Son? To use your brains, not your fists..."
"Yes, Sir." Henry looked down at the floor.
"Off to the barn with you, then." Father stood up, walked to the kitchen and grabbed the razor strop.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had been weeks since the Garrisons left Missouri and three days since the wagon train camped along the Platt River. More than half the members were sick with cholera, including Father. For the last two weeks Henry alone had driven the oxen team, saw to the care of the livestock and his siblings. Even cooked the meals.
"You're a fine lad, Henry," Captain Pert said as he checked on the families under his command. "Don't let that Prentiss boy get to you."
Billy Prentiss, who was two years older, felt compelled to criticize the way Henry fed the livestock. Or loaded the wagon. Or made a stew. Not five minutes after Captain Pert left, Billy stood over Henry as he fed buffalo chips to the fire.
"You use too many chips."
"How would you know?"
"You want my help, or don't ya?"
"Not particularly." Henry continued feeding chips to the fire. Billy glared at Henry. Picked up a buffalo chip.
"Don't forget this one." He hurled the dried dung at Henry, who had to step back to catch his balance when it hit his neck. Henry heaved a heavy breath, then turned and landed his fist into Billy's eye. Then again across his right cheek. Billy fell to the ground and Henry jumped on him with another punch to his right jawline. Not more than two blows later Captain Pert was there to break it up.
"What's that happening out there?" Father's weak voice drifted from the wagon.
"Oh, nothing - just a skirmish between the boys."
"Henry - you are fighting again?" Henry hung his head as he and the Captain walked to the wagon. His temper had once again subjugated him. "Captain Pert, I've always taught Henry not to fight but I am too sick to punish him - you must for me."
"No, Billy's had it coming. Besides, Henry's been doing the work of a grown man. I can't whip him."
"But you must."
"Look, the man that tries to whip Henry will have to whip me!" With that, Captain Pert left and Henry remained a grown man.
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2002
Reviews
Abrat4you <abrat4you(at)aol(dot)com>
Good Story...but I felt cheated at the end...just seem to end...or that the words were running...hey, maybe we can give Natty 100 more words...and then see how it ends :)
Frank <sswitcher(at)yahoo(dot)com>
A very original setting, and a story designed to make the reader think! Some will be furious at the father's misguided pacifism in refusing to allow his son to defend himself when justified. Others will no doubt empathize more with the plight of the sick man, powerless to punish his son as he wants. Personally, I am encouraged by the fact that Henry has turned out O.K., and that he seems to have found a fine mentor in the form of the Captain.
Simon <srb(at)imrryr(dot)demon(dot)co(dot)uk>
A period piece with a difference, in that so much of it revolves around someone refusing to spank someone else. I liked the way this was done. It can be hard to generate a sense of development in this kind of short story, but this is a good effort.
Owen Williamson <ashthorn(at)maildulf(dot)com>
Not quite sure what period this was set in, but I found it an interesting tale. I had to smile wryly at the idea of violence being used to dissuade someone from violence.