Living History


by Boy Smack <Boy_smack@yahoo.com>

Charles crossed the green common at a brisk walk, pausing to doff his tri-corner to passersby. It was a warm morning, promising to be a hot afternoon. He tugged irritably at the tight lace about his throat, then ran his handkerchief across his forehead once more. The iron-framed spectacles kept sliding down his perspiring nose, and for the thousandth time he pushed them back into place.

Once across the common, he entered a nondescript house, passed through an interior door, and sighed with relief at the blast of air conditioned coolness that washed over him. He entered a tiny, windowless office, rid himself of his heavy woolen coat, and slumped in his chair. He had just an hour to go until his next demonstration, and he wished he could spend it asleep. That would not be possible, though, since there was still preparation to be done.

He checked his messages, then punched the intercom button.

"Yes, Mr. Bremmer?"

"Hi, Judy. I see you have a family waiting to see me?"

"Yes, the Colbert's. Shall I send them in?"

"Have they completed all the forms?"

"Yes, sir, just a few moments ago."

A moment later the receptionist ushered the couple into his office, and he quickly tossed a box of papers on the floor to make room for them on the small couch across from his desk. They were obvious tourists. Mr. Colbert set his oversized camera bag on the floor and fidgeted in his seat.

"So," Charles began, "How are you enjoying your stay at Colonial Williamsburg?"

The couple laughed nervously until Mrs. Colbert took control. "We just love Williamsburg. Everyone has been so helpful. But David has been, well, impossible. He embarrassed us terribly at the candle maker's this morning. He actually asked the man why he didn't have a 'real job,' and why he wears a 'Halloween costume.' He's been grating on us for days, and, well, we just think it's time for drastic action." She patted her husband on the knee. "Mark spanked him at the hotel last night, but it hasn't made much of a change. Then we read the notice about your demonstration, and we just sort of felt like it was written for us. So here we are."

Charles nodded sympathetically throughout this story, so much like every one he had heard, and when it was clear that it was over, he shifted forward and leaned on his desk. "I'm truly sorry, Mrs. Colbert. Vacations can be stressful times, and it can take special measures to return children to their - ah - accustomed attitude and behavior. The good news is: we can help."

For the next several minutes he outlined his program to the nervous couple. Once he had their final signatures, he said goodbye, and they went back out onto the green to pick up their son from the directed tour of the governor's mansion.

A short while later, Charles stood in his colonial schoolhouse. The church bells were tolling eleven o'clock, and a crowd was filing into the rear of the room for the late morning demonstration. The guide at the door directed the children to sit on the benches and invited them to draw or write on the slates they found there. Parents stood against the walls, most of them glad to have found a display in this living museum which was tailored to their children.

Charles nodded quietly to the Colbert's as they entered, but showed no other sign of recognition. Their boy was a red-headed ten year old. He was instantly at home in the classroom. He stole chalk from the girls in front of him, and clowned about insufferably. His parents stepped in once or twice to quell the riot, but Charles paid it no heed.

After a few minutes he called the room to order. He had a set speech about the nature of colonial education, but he wisely kept it to a few moments. He found it more effective and engaging to enact a typical day in school. He selected an older child to come forward and read from the large Bible on his desk. Next he passed out copies of the Blue-Backed Reader, and he took volunteers to do recitations (actually readings) from the book. Soon all the kids were energetically participating. Even David Colbert was showing some signs of interest in the proceedings, although from his clowning and whispering Charles could imagine just how he normally behaved in school.

He fielded questions from the very start, and after the recitations he opened the floor for general questions. Whenever the kids asked about some aspect of school life, he did his best to show them, not merely to tell. It was this hands on approach that had made the schoolroom the most popular new display at Williamsburg.

He didn't even need to raise the issue of discipline himself. The kids always asked eventually; they love to hear about stuff like that. They had no idea what the question would bring in this setting. "What happened when they were bad?" This was from a little girl in pigtails who looked likely to have never been in trouble in school. It produced a smattering of giggles.

"Well," Charles said, "the common punishment was a switching!" Everyone gulped as he took a switch from the basket behind the desk and swished it in the air. He walked over and handed it to the little girl so that she could feel its flexibility. She held it gingerly, then bent it a bit before passing it around.

A volley of questions ensued: "Did it happen right here in front of everyone?"

"How often did they get it?"

"Did it really hurt?"

"Well, let's see. Perhaps I can do better than explain it to you. Do we have - a - David Colbert?"

The kids were instantly quiet, looking around. It took David a moment to pick up on his own name being called. He pantomimed "Me?" to the teacher, and was beckoned to the front of the room. Everyone chuckled when he walked up, and he even laughed himself, though somewhat nervously.

"So, David, I understand you've been giving your parents a bit of trouble this week?"

David didn't answer, but the kids in the room oohed softly.

"You have been quite a little distraction here, and, I take it, you were even worse with my friend Mr. Brownlee this morning? The candle maker?"

David suddenly realized he was in serious trouble. He hoped, and everyone else still assumed, that this was intended to frighten him badly. Charles stepped over to the wall and pulled out a stool, placing it just in front of the rows of benches.

"Here is how this would work, David. I need you to face the side wall over there, OK, good. Now bend down, that's right, and grab the rungs of the stool. You know what, grab the next rung. Right. Now don't bend your legs like that. Keep your knees strait. There, how does that feel?"

David didn't know what to say, but after a moment he admitted that it felt "weird." Charles left him there and retrieved the switch from a boy in the back corner. He returned to the front and positioned himself behind David, brushing the switch gently across his upraised buttocks. The blue material of his shorts was pulled tight, and Charles had to admire the cute bottom for a moment. Then he spoke again.

"David here has not behaved well during his vacation, and he has volunteered, well, actually, his parents have volunteered him, for part of our demonstration tonight." After that, he slipped back into character. "Now, children, watch closely. I hope this serves as a lesson for all of you."

With that he drew back his hand and switched David's cute bottom hard. The willow sang in the air and made a satisfying thwack as it hit. Most of the children's jaws dropped as the whipping began. They hadn't really believed this would happen. Most of the adults wore approving looks, though a few looked more - hungry - than anything.

David didn't know what to think. He had just been saying, "Wait, wait!" when the lash fell, and at first he had no breath. He began howling just as the second lash fell. Charles continued whipping him, the switch moving up and down the bottom. Of course David tried to stand, but a firm hand to the small of his back compelled him back over the stool. Next he kicked his legs back, and his torso fell across the stool. Charles just leaned a little lower to hold him in place and continued the strokes. After ten hard lashes he let go of the boy and stood.

David just lay across the stool, clutching at his burning bottom. He didn't know where to look. He was as much embarrassed as anything. Charles let him cry for a moment, then led him over to a corner and ordered him to stand there until dismissed. The children were deadly quiet as Charles resumed his lecture.

"This type of punishment is very unusual today. Even if your schools paddle, it is probably done rather differently. But in Colonial times, this was commonplace. All right, are there any other questions?"

The children were too frightened to ask more about discipline, but there were a few other questions. Most of them kept glancing furtively at the corner. A few moments later the demonstration was over, and Charles stood at the door saying goodbye to the tourists, children and adults alike. The Colbert's went forward to retrieve David. They stopped at the door to thank Charles for his help, and he smiled at the very chastened, humbled little boy.

As the families left, he heard more than one parent warning their kids to watch out, or they would return for a later demonstration. It was time to get back to his office. Most likely he would have an applicant family or two, and both afternoon slots remained open. It was indeed growing hotter, but the wool and tight lace didn't bother Charles so much. He had taken this job for a reason, after all. It was shaping up to be a lovely, if sweltering, summer afternoon.


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