Walking into her classroom, Belinda was shocked to see someone
had drawn a cartoon of her being paddled by Principal Ferguson on the
blackboard. She knew immediately who had done it. She had recently
filled in for the art teacher, Mr. Fox, when he was recovering from
surgery. Tammy was in that class, too, and Belinda knew she was an
amazing artist. Belinda shot Tammy a dirty look, and realized for the
first time, with her curly red hair, sea green eyes and pale complexion,
she looked like a teenage version of her mother. She should had known
she was Rachael’s daughter.
Looking back at the blackboard
made Belinda’s blood boil. She was dying to say something to Tammy, but
she knew whatever she told her, she would repeat it to her mother.
Rachael had just given her the worse paddling of her life. She never
wanted to give her a reason, to do it again.
She decided
to pretend the drawing didn’t bother her, and picked up an eraser and
erased it. Then turning back to the class, with her paddle in her hand
as a warning, told them, “I know some of you would love to see a teacher
getting paddled. But that’s never going to happen. We’re all
responsible adults. Only naughty, disobedient students are paddled
here.”
Belinda then walked over to her desk and sat
down. The minute her fiery red rear touched her hard wooden chair, she
flew back up, her eyes as big as saucers, shouting, “GOD IN HEAVEN, THAT
HURTS!”
Belinda felt like a swarm of killer bees were
using her rear for target practice. She hopped from foot to foot, trying
desperately to rub away the sting, moaning pitifully. Her entire class
was laughing uproariously at her antics. Through watery eyes, she saw
Tammy smiling, “Are you sure, Miss Krüger, principals NEVER paddle
teachers?”
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