Page 11 - Contrast1978Marchv21n2

Such an a.ction ~ the quiet click of the door
closing to the jmri> would have broken into her
hysteria. like a gunshot. She would have glanced
to the door and lost her emotional .imbalance,
the boy would have flashed red eyes at the noise
and been able to wipe away his tears before they
became obvious. I was tempted to break it up,
tempted to release the boy from his prison. My
class was silent as they waited, the high pitched
voice echoing the corridor and buffeting their
books and briefcases like a reminder of earlier
years.

There was a silence. I looked in between the
door jambs expecting to see the recalcitrant
victimahout to break out to freedom, but instead
the Deputy Headmistress was reaching for her cane.
1 watched like one watching a disaster at a dis-
tance, knowing that nothing could prevent it, no
Ina tter how fast I acted it would be too late.

'"I don't like caning boys I hut! shal.l have
to! I am forced to cans you because everything
€'..lsehas f,ailed. And I can tell you this, I see
this as a failure! Yes, a failure! For me to
have wcane you is to have to admit f;ailure.
We don't ,like failures here, we don't like anti-
social boys here! Let this be the last time I
have to cane you. Learn your lesson from this
my boy!"

The boy ,held .his right hand out and shut his
eyes awaiting the pain and the fattening of the
fingers afterwards, the painful flow of blood
likeba.rbed wire through the capi.llaries.

"And the other I" she said having echoed the
.first blow around the room.

Be broke doWIl after the second stroke of the
cane, be burst into tears and tried to hold his
hands to his eyes, tried to hold the fat throb-
bing SAusa.ge fingers to his swollen eyes I not
sure wbi.c.h needed most sympathy.

As he sobbed the Deputy Headmistress grabbed
him by the shoulders and pulled him to her body

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