## Origins of Trust (M/m)

The following account takes place roughly in the middle of my second form year as a student at one of Australia's most prestigious independent schools. At the time of this account I was eleven and a half years old and had been a boarder at the school for a little under a year and a half and I was a moderately naughty little boy.

I don't think I was a bad boy in the proper sense but I used to get into quite a lot of trouble, as I didn't always follow the rules of the school - and the school was a strict one with a lot of rules. And when I broke the rules I was caught reasonably often, and when I was caught I expected and accepted my punishment as being part of the way the world I was in worked. Most of the time the punishments I received were deserved ones, but sometimes I was either totally or at least partly innocent of the offence for which I was punished - and as this account begins, I had just recently been the victim of a somewhat unjust punishment.

I have already related that story in detail in an account entitled Caught at St James, but I must briefly reiterate here as the events of that account are of direct relevance to this one. One of the Matron's from my school, Sister McAlister had taken myself and another boy, Larry Moreland into the city for appointments at the Royal Children's Hospital. I had needed my eyes tested, while Larry - a year older than me, but a year behind me at school (I had been allowed to begin my time at the school early due to a belief that I was unusually precocious) - had had to have some minor surgery - some sort of abnormal growth had been cut away from his armpit. On our way back into the central city after our appointments, we visited an old church, and while we were inside, Larry and I were accused of stealing from the church's poor box. I know I was innocent, and I believe Larry probably was as well, but in an effort to defend himself from the charges, he went so far as to accuse me of the crime. We were forced to turn out our pockets - and unfortunately for me, I was carrying more money than I should have been. Sister McAlister came to the conclusion that I was a thief and there and then, in the church, put me over her knee and spanked me soundly in front of a number of people. This was, I must say, rather a distressing experience for me, especially as I was not a thief.

But I had broken the school rules with regards to pocket money, and in all honesty, the spanking I received, except for its public nature, was probably a reasonable punishment (in terms of the standards of the school) for that offence. It was certainly a very light one indeed for stealing from a church (especially when coupled with the fact that I had embarrassed the school), which is what Sister McAlister sincerely believed I had done. And so, I wasn't really inclined to make any sort of fuss about it - especially after Sister McAlister made it quite clear to me that she considered the matter to have been dealt with, and provided I was well behaved for the rest of the day, she saw no reason why anyone at the school needed to be informed of what she believed I had done.

I'm not saying I didn't object to being punished for something I hadn't done - I did. But I was also aware that I could have been punished for something I had done, and if I hadn't done that, I wouldn't have been wrongfully punished either. And if I had defended myself, I also ran the risk I would not be believed and that weighed rather heavily on me as well. Better to be thought a thief, than a thief and a liar who could not admit to misbehaviour even after being punished.

In any event, after we left the church, the Matron took Larry and myself to lunch at the Coles Cafeteria, where I indulged myself in crumbed sausages and mash, and a lime spider. This was quite a treat, all the more so, in that Sister McAlister did not force me to eat the peas that came with it. After lunch we headed to the train station, and boarded a train back towards the School. It was not overcrowded - a middle of the day train - and the three of us were the sole occupants of a compartment that would normally have seated eight or so people. And as we set off, I was actually feeling moderately contented despite the spanking I'd received ninety minutes or so earlier. I'd missed a day of schoolwork and I'd had a very good lunch and these were both good things.

But I was only moderately content. I'd lost two dollars and twenty cents which was nearly three weeks hard saved pocket money and that annoyed me. And I was also annoyed that Larry, sitting opposite me, had more or less accused me of stealing. He had dobbed on me - and that was something you did not do. You did not dob on other people.

Even if Larry had seen me steal the money, under our codes, our version of schoolboy honour, he should not have said anything against me. Now, admittedly, a theft from a church was very bad indeed and would have stretched those codes to an extent - far enough that if I had stolen the money, it might have been reasonable for Larry to have dobbed me in to avoid being punished himself. And to be fair, looking back on it, Larry probably honestly have believed I was a thief - we were accused together and assuming he was innocent, it may have seemed to him that I must have been guilty. And, strictly speaking, there had been ambiguity in his accusation - he hadn't actually said I was a thief - just that he wasn't, and so if someone was, it had to be me.

But given that I had lost three weeks pocket money and been put over Matron's knee if the middle of a public building and spanked hard on the seat of my short trousers until I cried like a baby - well, at the time, I wasn't exactly in the best of moods to give Master Larry Moreland the benefit of the doubt. I was annoyed at him.

I was also annoyed - I have to be honest here - about the solicitude that Sister McAlister was showing towards Larry. Affectionate treatment from a Matron was something I prized pretty highly - I think most of us did in our early years at the school. I used to actually like being sick when I was at school, because it meant an assurance of tender loving care.

But on this trip back to the school from a hospital appointment - well, to be brutally honest, I was jealous of Larry. Because Sister McAlister was being very attentive to him, and I did feel a bit like I was being left out.

Sister McAlister was Larry's matron - matron of his House. Normally a junior boy went to doctor's appointments accompanied by his own Matron, but on this occasion, because Sister McAlister had already been taking Larry, it had been decided it made more sense for me to accompany them rather than my own House matron take me. A perfectly logical decision, but sitting in that compartment, looking at Larry, sitting next to Sister McAlister on the opposite side of the compartment, I was jealous of the attention she was showing him, and I was thinking it wasn't very fair. Remember I was only eleven years old at this stage.

Now, the thing is, looking back on it, I don't believe I was being treated unfairly at all. I'd had my eyes tested - Larry had had surgery. Sister McAlister was also under the distinct impression that I was a year older than Larry when, in fact, I was a year younger. If she was focusing on Larry more than me - and I don't honestly know that she was - then it was probably reasonable for her to be doing so. But it did annoy me. And I sat there rather resentful - and my resentment grew because I was bored - I'd only brought one book with me for the train trips - I'd expected to be able to buy some more books in the city (which was the reason I'd had my money with me) and so I really hadn't brought enough to read - I finished my book about twenty minutes into the return journey. And then I sat staring out of the window at the passing scenery.

After a while, Sister McAlister looked up at me and spoke to me for the first time on our trip back.

"Nathan?"

"Yes, Matron?"

"I need to pop out for a moment. Would you keep an eye on Larry for me?"

"I don't need to be looked after!" Larry was a bit indignant.

"I'm sure you don't - but Nathan is in second form. Will you, Nathan?"

"Yes, Matron."

My resentment grew a little as she left the compartment. So not only wasn't I getting the attention I felt I deserved - I was expected to look after Larry myself. Still, I also liked the fact that I was being treated as the responsible one because I was in the second form.

So I turned my attention to Larry. He was reading a book as well - my book.

Sister McAlister had been carrying my book in her handbag, and presumably she'd been carrying one for Larry as well because a second book was sitting next to him on the seat. I remember the titles, because I remember the whole scene. I had recently been introduced to the Biggles books of Captain W.E. Johns, by my Housemaster and I was devouring every one of them I got get my hands on - I'd read about a dozen at this stage, and my plan had been to buy three more of them in the city that day. The one I had just finished reading - the one that Larry was now reading - was Biggles, Foreign Legionnaire. The book next to Larry was called They Found a Cave and I was unfamiliar with it.

"Larry - you're reading my book."

"Oh... I finished mine and Matron said I could read this one."

I didn't mind - I'd finished reading it, so there was nothing wrong with him reading it - but given that I'd been sitting there without a book to read while he had one sitting next to him, I was a bit annoyed. Still...

"Well, can I read yours, then?"

He picked it up and moved to pass it over to me. As he did so, he smirked. "You won't steal it, will you?"

I saw red. "I am not a thief."

"You stole money from the church!"

"I did not! You take that back!"

"Matron smacked you - she knows you did it."

"Take it back!" Now I was very angry.

"I won't. You stole money from a church."

I rose to my feet and reached across the compartment and grabbed Moreland by his tie, and dragged him to his feet. "I did not! Take it back!"

"NO!"

And I punched him on the nose. He raised his knee and got me in the groin. I doubled over and he hit me on the back of my head. I ducked to one side, and I grabbed his arm as I went, pulling him with me.

And he SCREAMED! It was a loud scream of agony - loud enough and frightening enough that I let him go. Just as Sister McAlister came into the compartment.

"LARRY! What's wrong, Larry?"

"Rysher... Rysher... bashed me up. My arm."

She grabbed the sobbing boy and enveloped him in a hug. "Hush, Larry, shhhhh... come on, sit down, and let me get your jacket off..." I was standing in the doorway and she turned and snapped at me. "Shut that door, Nathan - and if you have torn his stitches, I will thrash you to within an inch of your life."

She eased off his jacket, and I was shocked and terrified to see blood under his sleeve. I backed into a corner as Sister McAllister took off his shirt and tie.

"Nathan - get my handkerchief out of my handbag." Her voice was icy cold when she spoke to me, but very warm and soothing as she sought to calm Larry Moreland. "It's all right, Larry... it'll be all right. It's not that bad. Just a bit of blood."

She wedged the handkerchief under his armpit and told him to put his arm down. "Now hold it, there. You'll be all right." Then she stood up and turned towards me. I shrank back as far as I could.

"Nathan Rysher. Stand in the corridor. Get out of my sight."

"Is he... going to be all right?"

"Yes, he will be - no thanks to you. Now out of my sight before I do something to you that I might regret, you nasty, wicked, naughty little boy."

I went and stood at the end of the corridor for the rest of the trip. I was crying and I got a few strange looks from people who walked past. Shortly before we arrived at the train station closest to the school, Sister McAlister and Larry came out of the compartment and she gestured to me to approach her. I followed them off the train.

It was only a fairly short walk to the school, fortunately for Larry, and as we got close to the buildings, Sister McAlister handed me a note written on a sheet of notepaper.

"Take this to the Headmaster, Nathan."

"Oh no." About a month before the time of this account I had been sent to the Headmaster for punishment and had received my first flogging - six of the best on my bare bottom. "Please, Matron... do I have to go? Can't you deal with it?"

"Yes, Nathan, you have to go. The Headmaster will be fair - I am not sure I shall be, and I am sure I do not want to be. And I have to deal with Larry - I don't have time for you."

"He'll flog me!"

"I certainly hope so." She walked off with Larry, ending the conversation.

I stood there for a while before I dared to look at the note - I knew I wasn't supposed to.

The note was quite simple. It informed the Headmaster that I had stolen money from the Old Cathedral in the city, and had attacked Larry Moreland on the trip home reopening his wound which would now need to be restitched. Sister McAlister made it clear that she felt I deserved to be severely punished and reading her description of what I had supposedly done and actually had done, I was dreading presenting the note. My recent flogging had been excruciatingly painful - but on that occasion, while the Headmaster had agreed that the punishment was warranted, he had also accepted that the reason I had done what I had done had been based on a moral belief. I don't think he went easy on me - but just knowing that the man who was caning you was not really that angry made it easier to take. When he saw this note, I was sure he would be very angry indeed.

I stood there trying to work out what to do. I thought of running away for a moment, but I knew that boys who ran away were caught and returned to the school and they were nearly always flogged for it, so that didn't seem like much of a solution. I thought of going to my Housemaster, or to my Matron - they were supposed to be my ports of call if I felt I was being treated unfairly, but I would have had to explain to them what had happened, and if they didn't believe me, they would think I was a thief and I really didn't want them to think that of me. And besides - while I was innocent of that, I had hurt Moreland - I couldn't deny my guilt with regard to that charge.

I knew I had to see the Headmaster and amidst all the memories of the flogging he had given me a few weeks earlier, suddenly one memory of that encounter came to the forefront. On that occasion, just as I would today, I had walked into his study with a note outlining the accusation against me. And he had taken the note and read it - and then he had asked for my explanation. And he had listened to it. He had listened.

And so I walked into the main school - and I walked to his study door. And I knocked.

"Come in."

I walked into his impressive study. He was sitting behind the desk looking up from the papers he had been reading, when I came in.

"Rysher - how can I help you?"

I walked across to his desk and silently handed him the note. He unfolded it and read it. Then he looked at me with a very somber expression on his face.

"This says you stole money from St James. And you attacked and injured a younger boy. Do you have any explanation for this?"

I opened my mouth. I couldn't speak.

"Nothing to say?"

I began to cry. I tried to hold it in but I couldn't. In a few seconds I was wracked with sobs. And the Headmaster's somber expression softened slightly and he rose from his chair and came around to me and took me by the shoulder and sat me down in an armchair. Then he knelt down next to me, and put his hand on my wrist.

"It's all right, Nathan. Cry if you want to cry. Nobody will know except for you and me. But please talk to me, Nathan, and tell me what happened. So we can start to put it right."

"I didn't steal any money, Sir."

"Well... Matron thinks you did, Nathan. So we have a bit of a problem, don't we?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Right... so let's talk about this. But before we do... Nathan. Rysher. If you stole money from the Cathedral, you will be punished, but if you lie about it, Rysher, you'll make things even worse. Now, if you just lied to me when you said you didn't steal, that's all right. I know you're scared and boys do lie when they are scared. But if you tell me the truth right now, you can fix the lie."

"I didn't steal any money, Sir."

"Then why does Matron think you did? Is she lying?"

"No, Sir."

"Well?"

"I think... I'm sure she thinks I did do it, Sir. But I didn't. She's not lying, but she is wrong."

"Well, why would she think you did it?"

"Larry told her it wasn't him, so it must be me."

His voice went cold. "Are you saying Moreland stole the money and Moreland lied?"

"No, Sir."

"Nathan, you are not making much sense to me. Now... I'm not going to punish you until I understand what happened. So take your time." He stood up and came back with some tissues for me, which he handed to me.

"Yes, Sir... Sir, I didn't take any money from the church. And I don't think Larry did, either. I think I'd have seen if he did, and he didn't have much money in his pockets. But the sexton at the church said one of us must have stolen money and Larry said it wasn't him and I believe him but he said it must be me then, and it wasn't."

"But Matron believed it was? Why?"

I closed my eyes as I admitted to a breach of the school rules I had committed and for which I hadn't yet been punished. "Sir... I had two dollars and twenty cents in my pocket. And Matron thought I must have stolen that."

"You shouldn't have had more than eighty cents. Unless you drew savings?"

"No, Sir. I didn't." I wished I had. "I haven't been spending all my pocket money and I've been drawing the full amount every week. And hiding it."

"I see. Well, that isn't good, Nathan. But it's not as bad as stealing and it is definitely not as bad as stealing from a church."

"I know, Sir."

"So why didn't you explain this to Matron?"

"I didn't get the chance, Sir."

"What do you mean you didn't get the chance?"

"Before I could explain, Sir, she... she spanked me."

"Where?"

"In the church."

"She didn't give you the chance to defend yourself?" he frowned.

"There were some ladies there, and they are talking about how somebody from a good school wouldn't do this, and I -"

"Ah... yes. I understand now. And afterwards? Why didn't you explain later?"

"What's the point, Sir? She couldn't take it back. And I had broken the rules so I'd have got punished for that anyway. I just got punished for the wrong thing, but I deserved to be punished."

He gripped my wrists and looked into my eyes. "You never ever deserve to be punished for something you did not do, Rysher. It happens sometimes and it might seem that it's not worth making a fuss over and perhaps sometimes it isn't worth making a fuss over. But you - yourself - never think that you deserved to be punished for something you didn't do."

"Should I have said?" I realised I had stopped crying.

He looked at me. "Yes. You should have. And I don't believe the only reason you didn't was because you didn't see the point. What's the real reason, Rysher? What's the real reason, Nathan?"

I looked into his eyes. "She thought I was a thief. And that's bad enough. But if I told her I wasn't after, she might have thought I was a thief and a liar... and that's worse."

"But you've told me? Don't you care if I think you are a liar?"

"Yes, Sir... but I don't want to be flogged."

"But don't you see, Nathan - you are a liar. If you know something important is true and you don't tell a person who needs to know these things about it, that is a lie. And what am I to make of you? You don't say anything when you're not afraid of being punished. But when you're threatened with the cane, you suddenly come out with this story... either you lied before when you didn't say anything - a lie by omission. Or you are lying to me now, an active lie, to try and escape the cane. So you are a liar. The question for me is are you a coward enough to have made this lie up to try and escape a flogging?"

I began to cry again, and he spoke very calmly. "Nathan, please don't cry. I am not angry with you about this, I promise you, and I don't want to upset you, but some things need to be said. And some things need to be faced. Lying never solves problems - it never really solves them, though I know it can be tempting. And I have to ask you Nathan? Are you a coward and a liar? Are you cowardly enough that you would lie to me to escape a flogging?"

He looked at me for about twenty seconds, and continued. "An answer, please?"

I looked back at him.

"Yes, Sir, I am."

"And have you lied to me here today?"

"No, Sir."

He stared at me for what seemed liked over a minute. "I will believe you. You did not steal the money."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Don't thank me - there is no courtesy in this. If you tell the truth you have the right to be believed. Right. So you did not steal. Let's now address what you did do."

"Yes, Sir."

"First of all, the pocket money rules. Why did you have more money than you should?"

"I was going to buy some books, Sir."

"Some books - what sort of books?"

"Biggles, sir."

"Biggles! I take it you are impressed by the exploits of James Bigglesworth, then?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"So am I? What were you going to buy?"

"Whatever I could get, Sir. I haven't read that many yet."

"Which ones have you read?"

I reeled off a list of titles.

"And how many were you going to buy?"

"I hoped for three, Sir. I want to get a collection."

"Well, for books - you didn't need to hide money. You could have saved normally and drawn for books."

"Yes, Sir."

"So why did you hide it?"

I shrugged.

"No, Nathan. I want an answer."

I spoke quietly. "I didn't know what I was hiding it for when I hid it."

"So you had plans to spend it on something we might not have approved of?"

I nodded.

"So, you did break that rule, and you knew what you were doing?"

"Yes, Sir."

"What happened to the money?"

"I think Matron put it in the poorbox."

"So you don't have it now?"

"No, Sir."

"Well, then... you accepted a spanking you didn't deserve, and you've lost your money... so I think we will call that settled. As long as you promise to follow the pocket money rules in future?"

"I..."

"Nathan?"

"I... can't promise that, Sir."

He stared at me hard. "Why ever not?"

"Sir... I can't... I need my money... I need to be able to... I just can't make that promise, Sir. And I won't lie about it."

"Don't you trust us?"

I looked at him and shrugged. The answer was that I didn't really trust them. The school had never given me any reason to distrust it, but life had given me little reason to trust anyone at all.

His face stayed neutral and his voice was very clam when he spoke. "If I find you breaking that rule, I shall punish you. So will your Housemaster."

"Yes, Sir."

"You understand that?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Well, then... very well then. And now... Master Moreland."

"Yes, Sir."

"You attacked him?"

"Sort of, Sir."

"How do you mean, sort of?"

"He called me a thief. He started it!"

The Headmaster stood up. "He started it? Did you throw the first punch, or did he?"

"I did, Sir, but..."

"There are no buts. You threw the first punch."

"He called me a thief."

"Was he there when Matron decided you were a thief?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Was he there when Matron spanked you for stealing?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Was he there when you explained to Matron afterwards that she had made a mistake?"

"I didn't."

"No, you didn't. And so the reason Larry thought you were a thief is because you acted like a thief. So I will not take that into account here. And you attacked him? You threw the first punch?"

"Yes."

"And you reopened his wound?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You attacked a younger boy, to the extent that you exacerbated an injury, so he need furthers stitches?"

"I suppose..."

"Yes or no."

"Yes. No... Sir, I'm younger!"

"You are in the Second Form and he is the First?"

"Yes, but I am only eleven!"

"If you are only eleven, then you should be at the prep school. Do you want to go there?"

"No, Sir!"

"Then you are the older boy. I cannot have you in the Second Form unless you belong in the Second Form in every relevant way."

While we had been talking he had walked to a cupboard and he took out a cane. He swiped it through the air a couple of times.

"I probably should flog you. But being Headmaster means that just occasionally, every once in a while, I do not have to do what I should. Stand up and move behind the armchair - no, get the footstool.... put it down, there, just like last time. Stand on it and bend over the chair."

I did as I was ordered. The cane tapped on the seat of my shorts twice.

"This is for attacking a younger boy."

This wasn't a tap! It was a searing line of pain across my bottom and I gasped, tears flowing freely.

And the second one wasn't a tap either. It was even worse and I was barely able to stay in position and I wasn't sure what I was getting.

And the third one made me yelp like a whipped puppy. And I couldn't stay down. I straightened up.

"Back down, or I'll have to give you extra strokes, Nathan."

I didn't like that idea at all, I bent over. And waited for the next stroke. There was a tap tap on my bottom. And then.

"Get up, Rysher."

I straightened up and allowed my hands to creep around to my bottom.

He walked around me to his desk, where he wrote a note on a piece of paper and placed it in an envelope he pulled out of his desk. He sealed the envelope.

"Take this to Sister McAllister."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, you have to."

I left the office and the building and went to the House where Sister McAllister served as Matron. As I walked I looked at the envelope, with the name 'Matron McAlister' written on it in the emerald green ink that at our school was reserved for the use of the Headmaster. Not my own House, so I knocked on the front door and explained to the Prefect who opened it that I had a note. He directed me to her office - the House was much the same design as my own.

Sister McAllister looked up as I entered her office. She was packing away some first aid supplied and she did not look pleased to see me.

"Yes, Rysher? If you've come to ask me to reconsider my note, you can forget it - go and see the Headmaster."

"I have seen him. And he gave me this to give you."

She took the letter and she opened it. She read it, and then she stared at me.

"You didn't steal the money?"

"No, Matron."

"Come here."

I stepped over to her, and she enveloped me in a hug and held me to her bosom. I resisted stiffly for about five seconds. Then I relaxed into her.

"I'm very glad to know I was wrong, Nathan, and I am sorry."

"That's all right."

She kissed me on the top of her head, and then she turned to her handbag. She rummaged in her purse and handed me a crisp green note and a silver coin.

"Matron, please don't... it's all right."

"Take the money unless you want another spanking."

"All right!"

"Did the Headmaster cane you?"

"Yes, Matron. Three."

"Good. You deserved that. You hurt Larry."

"Is he all right?"

"Yes, he's fine. He just tore the stitches, so he had to be stitched again - it's not a disaster. But it could have been serious. And, Nathan, you can't do that to people who are younger than you."

"I know."

"Now, you run along, you naughty wicked little boy. And I'll make sure Larry knows that I was wrong about you being a thief."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Just please don't blame me too much either."

"All right."

I left the House and went and hid my money down at the edges of the school, under a gate post. My bottom was hurting quite a bit, but all in all, I was actually feeling pretty good.

And then I got to my room, and on the bed was a brown paper parcel, with my name on it - written in green ink.

I opened the parcel and inside were three, old hardcover books - Biggles in the Baltic, Biggles Sees It Through, and Biggles Defies the Swastika. In the front of each book, the Headmaster's name had been crossed out in green ink, and my own name placed under it.

And in each book he had written a short note. "Trust us - so we can trust you."

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