by JR Thompson
“So now you’re gonna tell me you want to go out and see Uncle Brad for a while? Is that it?”
“Please, Dad. Can I?”
“Remington, how many times do we have to have this conversation? We haven’t seen or even spoken to Brad for years. We don’t have any way of contacting him. He doesn’t have a phone. He doesn’t have a computer. He’s thousands of miles away.”
“What if I write him a letter?”
“Remington, Uncle Brad lives so far out in the middle of nowhere, that the mailman doesn’t even bring him the mail. He has to go into town to get it and he only does that once in a blue moon.”
“Can I try?” Remington persisted.
“You want to write him a letter and ask what?”
“If I can come out and visit him for a while.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know? The summer?”
“All summer?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
Collin’s face reeked of exasperation. “Why not? Remmy, you don’t even know the man! What if you don’t get along?”
Remington glanced out the window for a minute. “Dad, come on. I get along with everybody.”
“You can write him a letter. I doubt you’ll hear anything back, but if he’s okay with it, I’ll let you spend three weeks out there this summer. But that’s it, Remmy. No more than that.”
“Thanks, Dad!”
As soon as he got home, Remington made a mad dash into his room to grab a sheet of notebook paper and a pencil:
Uncle Brad,
How have you been doing? You probably don’t know who I am. I’m your nephew, Remington. But you can call me Remmy. That’s what everyone else calls me.
I’ve been thinking about you lately and believe it’s a real shame that we have never gotten a chance to know each other. So I talked to Mom and Dad and they said it’s okay with them if it’s okay with you. What I mean is… can I come visit you for a few weeks this summer? Like as soon as school lets out? I’m a real hard worker and if you live on a ranch, I would love to learn how to help you with the animals.
Please write me back and let me know.
Thanks!
Your Nephew,
Remington
38: Odd Turn Of Events
The mid-week church service was a little different than usual. The sanctuary needed a lot of work after the fire, so the congregation had to meet in the fellowship hall. Pastor O’Malley didn’t have any sound equipment down there, so the church had to sing acapella. The pastor didn’t preach as loudly as normal and it seemed the congregation was slightly less enthusiastic than they normally were.
When the service ended, Titus asked if he could accompany Ericka home so they could have a little bit of time to chat. Her grandpa and the Pearsons granted them permission and the two headed out before any of the other vehicles had left the lot.
“So, um… Ericka,” Titus began, nervously clearing his throat. “I… um… need to talk to you and I don’t want you to get mad at me, but I know you’re going to.”
Ericka smiled softly. “Relax. I’m sure whatever it is isn’t that bad. What’s going on?”
“Well,” Titus stammered for a moment. “I’ve been thinking and praying, like I told you I was going to and… you’re right. I need to admit my faults and be ready to accept the consequences for them.”
Ericka giggled. “Even if that results in a paddling?”
Titus was more solemn than he had ever been in his life. “No matter what,” he answered.
Ericka giggled again. “Way to go, Titus! Why would I be upset about that? It’s wonderful news!”
“Because… I… didn’t tell you everything.”
“Oh, no,” Ericka exclaimed. “Titus, tell me you’re kidding. There’s more?”
“There is… remember me telling you about how I framed Scottie for a temper tantrum and about how Brock wore him out because of me?”
“Yeah. And?”
“And… that wasn’t the only time I did that to him.”
Ericka silently waited to hear the rest of the story.
“Well, before you can honestly understand the whole gist, I need to explain something to you about myself.” He paused, giving Ericka time to respond, but she didn’t. “I’m a missionary kid. I could never live up to my parents’ expectations. I didn’t like being held to such high standards so I ran away. I came out here and met Brock and Victoria and, well, I really liked them. I wanted them to be my family.”
“But don’t Brock and Victoria have similar rules to your parents?”
“They do, but somehow I needed to get away from my folks. I don’t know how to explain it… But that’s beside the point. Even though I appreciated their hospitality, I wanted to belong and I was afraid they would eventually kick me out. I didn’t want that so I did everything I could to make them turn against Scottie… and that wasn’t hard. The first time I saw him, his mom was restraining him in the floor — it was obvious he had major anger issues.”
“So that’s why you got him in trouble all of the time?”
“I know it probably doesn’t make any sense to you, but I was trying to bond with the Pearsons by showing them I was the more mature one.”
“By being extremely immature. Smart plan,” Ericka remarked sarcastically.
“It gets worse... I wanted to belong. I wanted to be needed. I wanted to be thought highly of.”
“Then why get Scottie in trouble? Why not just do things the best way you knew how?”
“I don’t know,” Titus admitted with a tear trickling down his face. “But I still haven’t gotten to the worst part… Scottie told his folks he wished their house would burn down with all of us inside and I—”
Ericka stopped dead in her tracks. “Titus, tell me this isn’t going where I think it is.”
“Steve told me you were suspicious that I might have something to do with the fires.”
“But you don’t,” Ericka said. “I only voiced that opinion because I was angry. But I meditated more on it. Those fires were going on before you all even moved to Farmington.”
“They had been. I worked that to my advantage too.”
“You what? Titus, tell me you’re not a copycat arsonist.”
Titus lowered his eyes to the ground. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you that.”
“Titus, how could you?”
The seventeen-year-old stood speechless.
“How could you be such a monster? People have gotten hurt. Animals have gotten killed. How many of the fires are you responsible for?”
“I’m sorry, Ericka. I truly am. I don’t know what’s happened to the original arsonist, but to be honest with you I’ve been starting all of the recent fires.”
Ericka’s face turned pale. “You burned the church, Titus!” She smacked him as hard as she could. “What’s wrong with you?”
Instead of answering her question, Titus mumbled, “I deserved that. I’m gonna turn myself in. You’re the first person I’m telling. Then I’m gonna confess my wrongs to Brock and his family, then the Russells, and then I intend to call my parents. After telling everybody, I’m going to the cops. They’re probably gonna throw me in jail… I deserve that too.”
Ericka smacked him a second time. “That you do!”
The two continued another block without speaking to each other. Then, without warning, Ericka stopped in her tracks again and a single tear rolled down her cheek. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”
“Yeah... ruined a lot of people’s lives.”
Ericka hesitated for a moment, wiped away her tear, and said, “That too… but you’ve taken a stand. You’ve not only admitted to me what you’ve been doing, but you’re getting ready to turn yourself in. You’re getting ready to accept the consequences for what you’ve done.”
Titus partially grinned. “I had an exceptional mentor.”
39: Ashamed
After departing Ericka’s place, Titus took his time returning
home. His mind raced back to the many times he had gotten Scottie in trouble. Even though it had been a long time since his mom or dad spanked him, he remembered how it felt. Somehow he had been able to find it amusing so see Scottie writhing in pain. To see him humiliated. To see him getting disciplined for things he didn’t do.
Titus could grasp why Scottie had prayed and asked for him to get in trouble. He could understand why the kid had brought the paddle out to the living room and why he had encouraged Brock to bust his behind. Even if Scottie didn’t know the truth — that Titus had set him up many times over — he had every right to want Titus to get a taste of his own medicine.
By all rights, I ought to let Scottie watch while Brock paddles me, he told himself. Nah. I’m gonna be goin’ to jail soon enough anyway. That’ll be sufficient punishment. I’m sure Scottie’ll be thrilled to death to see me locked up. That’ll have to suffice.
As he continued moseying, he thought about how he was going to tell Brock what he had done — after everything the Pearsons had done for him. Let’s see here. “Brock, um… I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m the one who destroyed the first building site. I set the fire where the parrot died and the one where the apartment complex burned… and yeah, even the church.” No, that won’t work. Too direct. “Hey Brock, um… I’ve been seriously thinking things over and I need to come clean with you.” Better, but no. “Brock, do you remember that day when we found the building site all torn up? Well, about that.” Nothing sounds right. I don’t know how I’m gonna pull this one off.
It’s not just the buildings. I’m gonna have to tell him the whole truth — about all of the times I set his son up, about getting Remmy to drink with me, and of course about the arson. Brock might blister my behind before I go to jail anyway… Nah, he wouldn’t do that. He’ll let the legal system handle it. That’s the right thing to do.
When he got to the house, the Pearsons were sitting at the table eating lunch. “You got here just in time,” Victoria said. “Make yourself a plate.”
“Nah, I’m not hungry,” Titus replied. “I’m gonna go hang out in my room for a few. Okay?”
“Everything alright?” Victoria asked.
“Yeah, I just need a few minutes to myself.”
In his room, Titus buried his face in his pillow. I am such an idiot. How did I ever manage to sink so low? How am I going to look anyone in the eye ever again?
Titus didn’t know what he felt worse about. The lying, the manipulation, the fires, or allowing Scottie to take the blame for everything he had been doing wrong. Honestly, I probably feel the worst about Ericka. So much to the dream of ever having a relationship with her.
He thought more about everything he had done wrong before arriving at a tremendously difficult decision. Sneaking into Brock’s room, he reluctantly grabbed the paddle. This is the right thing to, he told himself. You can do this.
It was awkward, but definitely necessary. Titus carried the board into the dining room and placed it on the table next to Brock. Scottie glared at it nervously as Titus informed him, “I’m confident you’re gonna need this. Can you and Scottie come into my room with me for a minute? We need to talk.”
“I didn’t do anything, Dad!” Scottie objected.
“We need to talk,” Titus repeated.
“Can it rest until after lunch?” Brock asked.
Titus wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and die. “Yeah, it can wait. I’ll be in my room.”
His feet began to turn cold as he traipsed back to his room. What was I thinking? I’m too old for a spanking. Way too old. And who asks for one? I can’t go through with this.
By the time Brock and Scottie came into his room, Titus felt sick to his stomach. “Uh… you guys might wanna sit down,” he suggested, standing to his feet.
Brock and Scottie sat next to each other on Titus’s bed.
“I… um… have some confessions I need to make… Remember that lighter Victoria found in Scottie’s pant pocket?”
“What about it?” Brock asked.
“I put it there. I set him up so he’d get a spanking.”
Brock let out an exasperated sigh of unbelief. “You did what?”
“That’s not the only time he got spanked for things he didn’t do.”
Brock rolled his eyes while Scottie looked at Titus blankly, uncertain of how he should respond.
“Remember the first time Collin and Alayna came by the house for the parenting course? You guys punished Scottie for spilling soda on the floor and for lying about it. Then he sneaked out of the house cause he was mad and you and Collin both took the belt to him… I’m the one who spilled the soda. It was me. He would have never run away had I not gotten him in trouble.”
“The picture is becoming clearer,” Brock replied, lightly tapping the paddle against his knee.
“I could go on and on and it would probably take all day. The truth is I was jealous of Scottie. I wanted you and your wife to like me better than you like your son. So I did whatever I could to come between you. I wanted to impress you, so I took advantage of the fact that Scottie behaved so poorly and I set him up over and over again.
“Scottie, I’m sorry you’ve received a lot of whippings you didn’t deserve. I don’t know if I could ever do anything to make those up to you, but I do feel bad. There’s only one thing I can think of to show you how sorry I am.”
With that, Titus backed away from the bed, bent over, and grabbed his ankles. With his voice trembling and his heart pounding something fierce, he managed to squeak, “Brock, I am seventeen but I have been acting more like I’m twelve. I want you to paddle me and I don’t want you to hold anything back… I don’t want you to stop until Scottie decides I’ve had enough.”
Brock stood to his feet. Nervously, Titus glanced over at Scottie. He only hoped his victim would not let Brock beat him black and blue before deciding enough was enough. Brock moved over behind him with the paddle in his hand. Titus closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.
“You’re certain you desire me to do this?” Brock asked.
“Yes, sir,” Titus replied quietly. “I de… deserve it.”
Brock brought the paddle back.
“Stop, Dad!” Scottie interjected. “He said I get to decide when he’s had enough. I don’t feel he needs a paddling.”
Titus stood to his feet and turned to face him. “Why not?”
“A spanking’s to teach somebody a lesson. Titus already knows he did wrong. He’s already apologized and everything.”
Titus knelt down in front of him. “Scottie, what I did to you was wrong. I want you to remember back to the situation with the matches. I sneaked in your room and I put them in your pants pocket. Then, when I heard your dad jumping on your case, I went into their room and got the paddle. I knew you hadn’t done anything wrong, man. But I wanted you to get your behind busted. Your dad stripped you down to your underwear lit you up while I laughed at your misery. Do you remember that?”
“I remember.”
Titus turned around and bent over again.
“No, Dad. I don’t want him to get paddled,” Scottie insisted.
Still holding his ankles, Titus said, “Scottie, do you remember that day when we were down at the building site? The day I threw around that bucket of nails and told your dad you did it in a fit of anger? You know I at least deserve the same kind of paddling you received that day. Come on Brock, let’s get this over with.”
Titus closed his eyes again and felt a bead of sweat popping up on his forehead.
He remained in that position for thirty seconds before Brock told him to stand up. “Scottie’s relentlessly shaking his head no. I don’t comprehend his reasoning, but he wants nothing to do with this.”
Titus stood back to his feet. “Scottie, I’m not gonna get mad at you over this. I’m giving you permission. This is your opportunity to pay me back for the way I’ve been treatin’ you for months.”
“Your apology was enough for me,
” Scottie replied. “A while back I was reading my Bible and couldn’t believe how babyish Jonah had been, wanting God to punish the people of Nineveh even after they said they were sorry. If this had happened a week ago, I would have told my dad to whip you extremely hard. But I don’t want to be a baby like Jonah was. I want to be bigger than that.”
Titus shifted his gaze to Brock. “Can I speak with you for a moment — alone?”
“Sure, bud… Scottie, why don’t you help your mom clean off the table?” Brock suggested.
As soon as he was alone with Brock, Titus began weeping. “Brock, there’s more I haven’t told you yet. I’m going to tell you, but I want you to paddle me first. I deserve it.”
“Why don’t you just tell me everything now?”
“I just don’t feel like that would be appropriate. You’ve whipped your son repeatedly because of me setting him up. I feel like I need this in order to satisfy some of the guilt I have. Please, Brock. I know it’s weird for somebody to ask for a paddling. I feel as stupid as all get out right now. But I’m begging you, please. Please wear me out.”
Brock sat back down on the bed. “Titus, I’m not of the presentiment that’s the befitting indictment to make.”
“Brock, please! I’m telling you. I need this.”
“Nope. Not going to materialize.”
Titus sat down on the opposite end of the bed. “Look, the reason I want you to paddle me before I tell you the rest of the story is because when I tell you the rest, you’ll probably not see me again for a very long time. I’d rather get the paddling first. Please, Brock?”
Brock silently shook his head.
“Fine. I’m gonna tell you the rest then and you’re not gonna like it.”
“Assess me.”
Titus told him everything. Brock appeared to be in shock. He kept shaking his head and saying, “Oh boy.”
“So… I’m gonna turn myself in. But I still think I deserve a licking, first. You know I deserve it.”
“Yes, you do. But I refuse to punish you corporally at this moment.”
