## April Fools Day (m/mm)

The following account relates to events that I am able to date precisely. With most of my accounts, I generally find myself able to pin down an incident to the approximate month it took place, but unless something significant happened on a particular date, it's hard to be more precise than that. In this case, though, it is possible to nail things down precisely. It was the 1st April 1970 and I was a 14 year old boy in the Fifth Form of one of Australia's most prestigious boarding schools.

The story begins on a city train station platform - we'd had a week off school for half term (coinciding with Easter) and I'd spent that week with my closest friend William Connolly and his family. His elder sister Lucy was in her final year at our sister school and had been appointed a Prefect at the start of the year. At her school, this allowed her considerable privileges including her own room with some right to decorate it as she wished. This half term break was the first opportunity she had had to return home since the start of the school year (despite her pleas her father had proven unwilling to spend a day driving to the school to pick her up just to bring her home so she could pack some previously forbidden items and then drive her back to school - I think it would have involved something like six or eight hours driving in a day on his part and he said no. They had a 'discussion' about that matter on our first day back at the house) and she had enlisted her brother and myself to escort her and her sister, Amelia, back to her school at the end of the half term break basically so she could use us as pack animals to carry her trunk. We didn't mind, in fact we were glad to do it - because it meant we had to travel a couple of station beyond our own school, spend perhaps half a hour delivering her luggage and then we had a perfect excuse to spend a little bit of time in town - under normal circumstances boys were expected to travel directly to school but a pair of Fifth Form boys who'd just been escorting one of their sisters to school wouldn't be troubled by officialdom - not unless we pushed things.

But it meant that we were traveling to school quite early. Boarders had to arrive back at both our schools during the day, and the easiest way to make things work for William and I was for us to aim to get to our sister school with the girls fairly early, spend the morning wandering around the town and aim to get to our own school around lunchtime. We didn't have that much in the way of luggage - except for Lucy's extra trunk - you didn't normally take much home at half term, or bring much back with you afterwards. So we'd arrived at Spencer Street station probably around 8.30am. Most boys from our school wouldn't be

traveling to the school until at least a couple of hours later, but there were a few of them on the platform as we arrived, as well as children from a couple of other boarding schools located near ours. Nearly all junior boys but we found ourselves being signaled to by the most senior boy in the school, Charlie Blackwood, Captain of the School.

"Connolly, Rysher - are you getting this next train?"

"We are indeed," I answered.

"Excellent. Look, you two, can you do me a favour and keep an eye on the younger boys? Keep them out of mischief?"

"Blackwood, we're going with the girls - helping my sister take her trunk in," said William. Lucy had come up with us, and Blackwood spotted the braid on her blazer.

"Miss Connolly - you're a prefect?"

"I am - and it's Lucy."

"Charlie - look, I have to stay here, I'm meeting someone on the next train. And I don't want my junior boys traveling unsupervised. If your brother and Rysher will help, will you keep an eye on them for me?"

Lucy nodded - as I say, she attended our sister school and we did do things together on occasion and while she had no real authority over boys from our school, we were all conditioned to respect the idea of prefects - and more importantly if a prefect from another school had found it necessary to report our behaviour to our school - that would have been taken very, very seriously. "If you think it's necessary, Charlie - do you think there's likely to be a problem?"

"Check the date."

It clicked for all of us at the same time. April 1st. April Fools Day. Trouble wasn't quite inevitable, but it certainly was something to be looking out for.

"All right, we'll keep an eye on them. But William and Nathan are coming on to my school."

"That's OK - once the boys are off the train, they're close enough to our school that they'll go there before they cause any real trouble. At least I hope so."

So as the next train arrived, we stood around and supervised as boys from our school, and girls from Lucy and Amelia's school boarded and we followed. This was just a regular train - not a special - and while at least half the people boarding it were from our schools (or from another boys school who also had a prefect aboard that Charlie and Lucy had had a word with) there were quite a few normal people as well, who were probably shocked to realise their normal train was being infested with rowdy schoolchildren. I was actually feeling quite chuffed that Charlie had asked William and I to help out - Sixth Formers were generally expected to assist the prefects in cases like this - Fifth Formers as we were, only got the opportunity occasionally. We'd been given a bit of responsibility and I quite liked that - especially as I had made it my goal to do everything I could to be made a prefect the following year. Every little bit of responsibility helped.

So as we set off, William and I started patrolling the train. Lucy had struck up a conversation with the prefect from the other boys' school (we had a mostly friendly rivalry with that school) and he thought the joint supervision arrangement made sense, so he and Lucy decided that William and I should patrol and only bring prefects into it if necessary. William headed one way and I headed the other and a few compartments down, I encountered a friend of mine - a third form boy named Derek Gordon, who'd been my telem (a boy I was especially responsible for - I was his mentor) back when I was in the Third and he was in the First. He had a bag of lollies and he offered me one and it would have been very impolite to say no, so I sat down for a moment to have a little chat.

It turned out there was something that Derek wanted to ask me.

"Nathan, what happened with Gary Landon?"

This was a bit awkward to be honest. Landon was a First Form boy in our House who'd been assigned to Derek as telem in the same way that Derek had been assigned to me a couple of years earlier. Derek was responsible for this younger boy and a few weeks earlier Landon and I had had a little bit of a run in.

I've described the whole incident in another account entitled Fair Go! but in brief, Gary Landon had violated one of our most sacred schoolboy codes - codes that meant a great deal to me - and as a result another First Form boy had received a flogging at the hands of our Deputy Headmaster. I'd been quite incensed at the injustice I perceived and had decided to scare young Landon silly. I'd been caught doing so, and I'd been caned for menacing Landon - only a step up from bullying.

I had deliberately sought to keep as much from Derek Gordon as possible. Though I was personally disgusted at what Landon had done, he was only a First Form boy new to the school and I was prepared to make allowance for that. He certainly didn't need his relationship with Derek soured - Derek was the one boy in the House he had an absolute right to be allowed to rely on, and so I didn't want to tell Derek he was a codebreaker. And so I had avoided Derek's questions over the few weeks before half term. But it was obvious that Derek wasn't going to let things go.

"Look, Nathan - it's obvious that Gary did something that really upset you. You don't go around attacking First Formers, you're no bully. So Gary did something bad. You won't tell me what it is, and he won't tell me what it is either. But Nathan, the poor kid has been miserable for the last couple of weeks. Now all I can work out is he did something that got someone in trouble - other boys in his form seem to know what, but none of them will tell me - did he dob on somebody or something?"

"Derek, I really don't want to tell you."

"Look, Nathan. Man to man. I'm his mentor - and I've got to know. You came to me the night you bashed him up -"

"I didn't bash him up."

"Well, whatever, that's the point - if you don't tell me what happened, I can get it wrong. You came to me that night and asked me if I'd told him the codes - so obviously whatever he did violated the codes. 'Fair Go', I think you said - did he violate 'Fair Go?' Look, Nathan - I am his mentor. I have to know so I can do my job properly - and I only have till the end of term. I've lost half the time I need already. So tell me what I need to know - that's part of those bloody codes as well."

I was proud of Derek then, I have to say. But I still had a dilemma.

"Listen, Derek, if I tell you, you might decide he's not..."

"Bullshit, Nathan, and go fuck yourself for thinking that." This was seriously strong language from Derek Gordon. "You tell me, Nathan - you were my mentor and you took that bloody seriously. Are you going to tell me that anything I did back then would have stopped you doing your duty?"

That gave me pause. These codes were important - and that's why I didn't want to tell Derek how Landon had violated them. But if the codes were important to Derek, they would all be important - and no mentor worth his salt would give up on a telem for any reason under those codes. You might beat the living snot out of the kid before you helped him, maybe. But you'd still help him.

So I told Derek, briefly and concisely. Well, that's probably not true - anybody who has read my accounts knows that brief and concise aren't really my strong points. So to avoid retelling it here with my usual tendency to go on and on, I'll refer people back to Fair Go! wherein you can find the whole story.

At the end, Derek sighed. "Little idiot. Why couldn't he have told me that? No wonder the other boys in his dorm are giving him a hard time. I bet all of them know. Anyway, thanks for telling me, Nathan. Now I can start fixing it."

"Do you need any help?"

"My job, Nathan. My job."

I accepted that and decided I'd better get on with my inspections as I'd been delayed a while at this point. Luckily, the trip was uneventful - nothing worse from my perspective than a couple of boys sticking their heads out of windows - dangerous, yes, but disruptive to others, no. And they pulled their heads in when I told them to. At the station closest to our school, we helped make sure they all got off as fast as possible and then we went further on with Lucy and Amelia. We did what we had come along to do - helped manhandle Lucy's trunk to her school and then we spent a couple of ours walking around the town - we were asked three times - by two masters and a prefect - why we weren't at school, and while our excuse was accepted, we decided we'd really better not push it too much. So we arrived at school in the early afternoon, just before lunch in fact, with enough time to head into the House and wash our hands and faces (which were somewhat dirty from sticking our heads out the train window - the difference is we knew where the pylons were!).

As I came out of the House, I saw Gary Landon. He was sitting down under a tree looking at a letter in his hand, and he looked absolutely miserable - as if he was almost crying. And in that moment, I suddenly felt really sorry for the poor kid.

One of the few unambiguously positive things about the disciplinary regime at my school (at least in my opinion) was the fact that punishment really did tend to end a matter. You misbehaved, you were caught, you were punished and you moved on with a clean slate. But offences against your friends, or against the unofficial codes of schoolboy honour, were different from offences against school rules. It was much harder to wipe away the stigma of that. But it had been two or three weeks now since Landon had made his big mistake - and it seemed to me from what Derek had told me that he was still paying for it. And I felt sorry for him.

So I approached him. I'm not sure what I really planned to do or say, but it seemed to me that something needed to be done and reasonably quickly. For me, this School was an incredibly happy place to be - and it caused me a bit of vicarious pain to realize that for Landon, it might not be that at all.

"Hello Landon."

He looked up as I approached and jumped to his feet in some alarm. Not surprising really - the last time I'd spoken to him, I'd had him pinned to the wall. I tried to calm him down.

"Hey Landon, don't worry, I just want to..."

"Get away from me!"

"Kid, I just -"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" He screamed it at me, then turned and started running. I started to chase him but after ten yards or so, decided that it might be best if I left well enough alone. Leave it to Derek - I was sorry for Landon, but I had no special responsibility for him. Besides, I was hungry - and lunch was waiting.

It was a good lunch and after it was over I returned to the House to do some work. Not schoolwork, precisely, but rather work towards a university scholarship. I had no real money behind me and the image of university was now looming less than two years in my future. The school had made it quite clear to me that I really didn't need to worry about money for university - something would be worked out so I could attend - but I didn't want to rely on charity from the school if I could avoid it and so with the help of my Housemaster I'd identified quite a variety of potential sources of scholarships and was working towards as many of them as I could. Some were based on essays, rather than examinations and it was one of these I planned to spend some time on this free afternoon. But when I got to the House I was rather surprised to find that my typewriter was missing from my room.

I wasn't concerned at all - it was quite a battered old portable typewriter and I used to lend it out quite freely - a number of my friends had standing permission to borrow it whenever they needed it - probably half the Fifth Form and most of the Sixth had such machines, but certainly not everyone - because I had access to a better typewriter in the office of our school newspaper. But I was surprised to find it missing on the first day back, because not many people would have been doing schoolwork that day. I had a look in the senior common room and in the prep room but couldn't see anyone using it and so I headed to the newspaper office, where I spent most of the rest of the day trying to hammer out a rough draft of part of an essay.

I came out at tea time, and after tea we returned to the House, where we had a free evening ahead of us - somewhat unusual on a weeknight as we normally had prep and other organised activities to do. I headed into the senior common room with a book to read, and I was just settling down for an evening of relaxation, when Chris Bancroft, our House Captain stuck his head through the door.

"Rysher, could I see you now?"

I went - even though it was a question, it wasn't a request, it was an order I had to obey. I followed Bancroft to his room and followed him in, and suddenly became quite nervous when I realized his cane was sitting on his bed. House Captains generally kept their canes hidden unless they intended to use them. My mind raced, as it always did in that situation, trying to work out what I might have done - but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what it might be. So I waited for him to tell me.

"I won't waste words, Rysher - what did you do to Gary Landon before lunch?"

"Do to him? Nothing."

"Rysher, I saw you chasing him - I saw it from the window. You went up to him, you said something to him, and he yelled at you to leave him alone and then he ran off and you started to chase him. Now, what did you say to him and what did you do to him?"

"What's he saying I did?" I was a bit surprised at the accusation I could hear in Bancroft's voice. He and I weren't close friends, but we got on well enough and while I could understand him wanting to ask me some questions given what he had seen, and that I had had a run in with Landon in the past, I really felt I deserved more benefit of the doubt than he was giving me.

"He's not saying anything. He wasn't at dinner. He's missing."

"Oh hell."

"Now, what did you do to him?"

"Nothing, I swear to God. I went up to him to try and see if he was OK actually - Derek Gordon told me he was still miserable about what had happened weeks ago and I saw he was looking pretty low, so I thought I'd try and have a word and cheer him up."

"Hang on - he was miserable? And now he's missing? This could be bad, Nathan."

"Yeah... Derek knows him best, I'll get him."

"Sprint."

I ran from the Captain's room to the junior common room - violating a House rule that was viewed as quite important by direct order of the House Captain. I looked into the common room, and saw Derek working on a model plane.

"Gordon, get here, now!"

The whole common room looked up at me, startled, and Derek came trotting over. "Come on, we have to see Bancroft."

He came with me, and soon we were both back in Bancroft's presence.

"Gordon, do you know where Gary Landon is?"

"No, Bancroft."

"Do you know where he might have gone if he was upset?"

"Why, what is..."

"We haven't time, Gordon. Do you know where he might have gone if he was upset?"

"No, I've no idea. What's going on?"

"He's missing. He might have run away." Bancroft looked at me - he might not say it to Gordon, or even to me, but I think he was worrying about worse possibilities than a boy just running off.

Derek slumped onto the bed. "This is my fault."

I wasn't having that, "No, it's not. Yes, you're his mentor but there's..."

"No, I don't mean that. I..." he looked at Bancroft and at me, and he gave a deep sigh. "I played a bloody stupid joke on him today."

"April fools?" I asked.

"Yes, but more than that. I was going to teach him a good lesson. I borrowed your typewriter, Nathan, and I typed up a note from the Headmaster, and left it on Landon's bed."

"What did it say?"

"That the Head had found out that he'd done something that had got another boy flogged and that he had to report after lunch for a flogging himself."

"You idiot," Bancroft was livid and I didn't blame him. It was a pretty nasty thing to do. But it actually made me feel a bit better. Now, Landon had a good reason to be missing - it was just about the dumbest thing he could have done as running away virtually always got you flogged so it was no way to avoid a flogging.

Now we had a reason - and Bancroft looked at his watch and I could tell he was trying to work out what to do.

"Nathan - get the fifth and sixth form to get jackets on - quietly. Torches as well. If we can find him quickly enough, I won't have to tag him as a runaway. You, Gordon - I'll deal with you later. And I guarantee - whatever happens to Landon will pale in comparison to what happens to you."

I returned to the common room, where I quietly told everybody what was needed - and the entire fifth and sixth form of our House crept out into the night. Once we were clear of the House, Bancroft explained the situation in more detail and told us we had half an hour to find Landon, or he'd have to be reported as a runaway. We spread out. I searched up near the rifle range and the armoury without success, and as the time expired I returned to the House, to find everybody else returning - and no sign of Gary Landon.

We were less quiet returning to the House - the need for stealth had merely been to avoid attracting the attention of our Housemaster or the Matron and now Bancroft was going to have to make a formal report of what had happened. As we entered the House, he thanked us all for looking - and told us to stay available because we might be used in a longer search as well.

"You'd better come with me, Nathan."

"Why? I mean, of course, but why?"

"Because you know better than anyone what started this mess."

We went via Bancroft's room where Derek was sitting on the bed examining Bancroft's cane and told him to come with us. Then we approached the Housemasters flat and Bancroft knocked on the door. The door was opened by our Housemaster's wife Mrs Pinner, who looked at the three rather somber boys in front of her and asked us to come in. We were ushered into the presence of our Housemaster.

Bancroft cleared his throat. "Sir, I have to inform you that Gary Landon is missing. I think he's run away."

Mr Pinner looked up from his desk with a half smile. "You'll be pleased to hear that Gary is in the infirmary."

"Infirmary, Sir? Is he OK?" this came from Derek Gordon.

"Yes, Derek, he is. He's just a little bit drained and Matron thinks he needs a good night's sleep. Christopher, you're House Captain so I know why you're here, and you're Gary's mentor, Gordon, so I understand your presence as well. But Nathan - why are you here?"

"Well, Sir, I know what started this, you see."

"Yes. Gary rather thought you might have written the letter from the Headmaster. He says you've picked on him before. I take it you have come to confess?"

Bancroft seemed about to speak so I spoke up quickly. "It was written on my typewriter, Sir."

"Oh shut up, Nathan," Derek spoke up. "Sir, I wrote the letter. I borrowed Rysher's typewriter and I wrote it up."

"What on Earth? You are his mentor, lad. How could you do such a thing?"

"It was an April Fools joke, Sir."

"An April Fools joke? Letting a First Form boy - a First Form boy you are supposed to look after - think he is going to be flogged."

"Yes, Sir."

"Well... I regret to say that I can't punish you for this. The school rules do not allow me to administer the punishment you so richly deserve. And so you will report to the Headmaster yourself at nine o'clock tomorrow morning where I fully expect you will find out that a flogging is not something to joke about."

"Yes, Sir." Derek closed his eyes - I think to stop tears leaking. And I tried to speak up on his behalf.

"Sir, I don't think you know..."

"Silence, Rysher."

"But, Sir."

"Silence, I say. Unless you wish to join him tomorrow?"

Bancroft spoke. "Sir..."

"The Headmaster could flog you as well, Bancroft!"

Bancroft looked stunned at this threat. Yes, technically a House Captain could be flogged by the Headmaster - House Captains were exempt from most corporal punishment but not at the hands of the Headmaster, but it hadn't happened in a couple of decades, and Bancroft was supposed to be able to speak up for us.

Mr Pinner looked at Gordon, standing there with his eyes closed, looking down at his feet, and then looked at both Bancroft and myself and very carefully winked before speaking.

"Now, Gordon, you are to go to your dormitory and go to bed immediately, is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Go."

He walked out. And we heard him leave the flat. Mr Pinner spoke to both of us.

"I want the two of you back here with Derek at 7.30 tomorrow morning."

"Is he going to be flogged, Sir?"

"No. But I think it's appropriate that he spends the time until he falls asleep tonight thinking that he is going to be. Call it my little April Fools joke. No, he's not going to be flogged. But don't tell him. I have a better insight into what has happened that you know, and I think I can see why young Master Gordon did this - inexcusable, yes, but it's not just misguided humour. He was trying to fix a problem, and I shall make allowances for that intention."

The following morning I was the one who collected Derek from his dormitory at seven thirty, where he was sitting listlessly on the bed having showered, and told him to come with me. I took him to Mr Pinner's office, where Bancroft and Landon were both sitting in chairs already. Derek and I took two other seats. Mr Pinner waited until we were all seated and spoke.

"Right - I know what has happened here. I might be the only one who knows everything at this point, so let me explain to all of you what has happened and what is going to happen. Landon, Gordon - neither of you are going to be flogged. Not today, and not for this anyway. I can't guarantee you'll never be flogged.

"But Landon - you need a very low thing in allowing Cyril Clayton to face the cane for something you did, and you made it even worse by not stepping forward to take your caning when it might have spared him a flogging. But you're not totally responsible for his flogging - he made his choice to defy the rules of this school and you're not to blame yourself for the consequences of that any further. You've done what you can to make amends. And Gordon - what you did yesterday was very cruel. But you've faced up to the punishment you could have received for that and that shows you're not a low person - you just did a low thing. And while it doesn't excuse what you did, in the end what you did had some good results. Gary - tell us all what you did yesterday when you left the school?"

"I went to try and find Cyril Clayton, Sir. I thought I knew where he lived." Clayton was a day boy living reasonably near the school, "I wanted to apologise to him. I didn't mean to run away, Sir. I just got lost. I meant to see Clayton and say I was sorry for getting him flogged and to let him know that I was going to be flogged as well. I've seen him in class, Sir, and he's been so angry with me and I don't blame him, but I didn't have anyway of making it right except by owning up and I was too scared, but once I thought I'd been caught... well, it made it easier, Sir. I don't want to be flogged, Sir... but please don't let me off. I need to make things right, Sir."

Mr Pinner looked at me. "Rysher, Nathan - from what I understand you helped Clayton after he was flogged?"

"Well... yes, Sir, but I also helped while he was being flogged."

"Yes, I do know what happened, Nathan. Nonetheless, it seems to me that you might be able to act as a bridge between Landon and Clayton, if you are willing to do so? Would you be prepared to take Landon to Clayton this morning so he can make his apologies?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Right then. Then only one thing remains to be done. Landon and Gordon, you're not going to be flogged, but you're not getting off that lightly. Bancroft, I hope you understand your duty?"

"I think so, Sir."

"Six each. Good ones."

"Yes, Sir."

"You may all go."

We stood. Bancroft stopped. "Six each, Sir. Does that include Rysher?"

Mr Pinner looked up at us. "No, not unless he's done something I don't know about."

Well, that was a relief.

We left the flat and we headed over to Bancroft's room. The House had gone to breakfast now, and things were rather quiet. Bancroft entered the room and then called Gordon in. Landon and I waited outside, and we listened as the cane swished through the air and cracked across the seat of my telem's, his mentor's short trousers. We heard the gasping and the crying, and Landon started shivering. I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed hard.

"You can take it, Gary."

"How do you know?"

"Because you don't have a choice." I looked down at him. "Actually you do. You can refuse the cane. In which case, you'll be sent to the Headmaster and flogged. They'll hold you down if necessary. They'll put your pants down for you, and they will hold you down. Or they'll get a mug like me to do it." I squeezed tighter. "That's what happened to Cyril Clayton and it happened because of you, Landon. Now tell me something, are you honestly going to say to me that when you made that happen to someone else, that you can't take six of the best? Of course you can."

Bancroft's door opened and Derek stumbled out, tears streaming down his face, hands clutching at his bottom. Bancroft had his cane in his hand and used it to point at Landon, who I pushed into the room. I followed - I thought I needed to witness this.

"Bend over and put your hands on the bed, Gary."

He did as he was told, slowly and with great trepidation.

Bancroft stood next to and behind him, and lined the cane up across the boys bottom. He tapped the cane, once, twice and three times, then drew it back and cut in with it, hard and fast.

Landon gave a stifled cry, but stayed in position. Bancroft tapped tapped tapped the cane again, then pulled back and cut it in low, and the cry from Landon was high pitched and fragile.

Bancroft took aim again - this time with five taps, and Gary shuddered at the fourth and fifth. Then once again the cane was drawn back and cut in again, right across the centre of the boys bottom. Landon fell forward - his knees pushing into the side of the bed, crying like crazy.

Bancroft gave him time to straighten up and get back into position again. Another five taps and another had stroke. The kid fell forward again, and there were words in his cries.

"Please... no more..."

"Get into place." Bancroft words were husky, but they were obeyed. Six or maybe even seven taps this time, and an absolutely savage stroke, but by now Landon had moved forward so his legs were right up against the bed, and he didn't fall again. But he was torn with heart wrenching sobs, and the word 'Please, please' among them.

Bancroft looked at me and raised an eyebrow. I shook my head, and he nodded. He took aim - seven taps - and then brought the cane back and swung it in with force. Landon's sobbing became pitiful, but he stayed in position until he was told to stand up.

I took him outside into the cool morning, he was still crying as we walked across to the dining hall where the school was at breakfast, and I left him outside while I went inside to get some toast for the two of us.

He calmed down over the course of the next ten or fifteen minutes and ate his cold toast. I waited with him until we saw Cyril Clayton emerge from the dining room on his way to class (as part of the school's attempt to integrate day boys into the life of the school as fully as possible they were bussed in early enough to have breakfast with us). We approached him and I raised a hand to stop him. Then I looked at Gary Landon.

Landon looked over at Clayton. "Clayton... I'm sorry I got you flogged. I know that sorry isn't good enough, but it's all there is to say."

Clayton looked at Landon's red eyes and red face. "You've been caned?"

"Yeah. Six of the best."

"Will you still be sorry when your backside stops hurting?"

"Yeah."

Clayton closed his eyes and took a very deep breath.

"That's good enough for me." He held out his hand. And after a second, Landon took it.

They stood for about 30 seconds. Then both let go. And both walked off to class.

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