Fiona – Ms. Price again, now that I was out of the office – was a big believer in on the job training and had asked me to take a walk through the school, familiarize myself with the layout, and stop at the various classes and introduce myself to the teachers. As I strolled down the hall, looking around and admiring the paintings, I thought about the things she had told me.
Carnifax Correctional Academy was founded on a theory of old man Carnifax’s that, without something approaching a normal childhood, the child was unlikely to grow into a normal, socially acceptable adult. His thought was that taking these eighteen year-old delinquent girls for three years and treating them, to a degree, like children – regressing them in a limited way – might supplant the ordinary childhood they had never had and fill that void in their life. That was one reason why the Academy was an invitation-only program; he considered anyone with a normal childhood and a good family who still turned out badly to be beyond his help. He intentionally and carefully chose those girls from the worst environments possible who still had good health and reasonable intelligence by combing the state’s reform school records, and issuing them an invitation to attend Carnifax. That was something that really amazed me at first; every student in this academy was a volunteer, here of her own free will.
Of course, Carnifax had a lot to offer a girl remanded over to the system until she was twenty-one. If she stayed in the regular correctional facilities, the odds were she would be transferred to an adult prison after she turned eighteen: not something to look forward to.
On the other hand, the Academy could offer her a free education to complete high school, plus assistance with equally free correspondence courses for college credit once she got her GED. Despite the building’s grim appearance on the outside, the facilities here were first rate: decent food, a large exercise room, a modest outdoor pool and running track, a recreation room complete with a big screen TV (The programming was strictly limited to ‘educational and uplifting material’, according to Ms. Price.), computer facilities most public schools would envy (although internet access was tightly controlled and filtered), and an excellent library. For the girls’ part, they were expected to study hard, take their turns on cleaning and kitchen detail, wear the school uniform, and most of all, obey the rules. If they didn’t, it was made clear from the first that by signing onto Carnifax Correctional Academy, they would be subjecting themselves to physical correction. Structured, consistent discipline was the motto here; there was little leeway for discretion on the part of the staff in the interest of fairness to all.

Many of the girls probably didn’t realize the full implications of just what that physical correction might entail, but once they were accepted at Carnifax, they were here for those three years – period. There was no going back, and no one quits.
Although my new position would require me to put Arthur Carnifax’s methods into practice, I was reserving judgment on their effectiveness until I saw the results for myself. One thing about it, though, even the occasional Level Three had to be better for a girl than prison, and there was no question that the education offered here was very good, and had at least the potential of changing their lives for the better. That was what my profession, in theory at least, was all about.
Before I made my first stop, I was snapped out of my reverie when I turned a corner in the hallway and someone unexpectedly piled into me, almost knocking me over.
“Excuse me – oh! Sir, I’m sorry sir!”
I looked down at the girl, barely five feet tall and slender. Her petite size and curly brown hair, along with wide, frightened eyes, made her look much younger than she must have been.
“What’s your name Miss?
“Debbie Ann Hammond, sir.”
“Do you know who I am?” She shook her head. “I’m Mr. Bower, your new Assistant Administrator. What were you doing just now?”
She looked as if the bottom had just fallen out of her world.
“Please sir, I’m sorry!”
“I didn’t ask if you were sorry, Debbie Ann.” Ms. Price had explained to me that the use of the first and middle names was standard operating procedure at Carnifax, as it reinforced the ‘child’ status of the girl. “I asked what you were doing that caused you to run into me. The truth, please; you know the penalty for a lie.”
“Running…sir.”
I knew there was no way out of this, even if I had been minded to overlook it. I could feel the Administrator’s eyes on me through the security cameras, watching to see what I would do. I sighed inwardly; no matter how trivial the offence seemed, I worked for Carnifax Academy now and as long as I drew their paycheck, I was going to have to play by Carnifax rules.
“Do you want to tell me the penalty for running in the hallways?” I hoped she would; I didn’t want to look silly by having to pull out the handbook I hadn’t had a chance to read yet and look it up.
“A Level One Correction, sir. Oh please sir, I’ll be good; I promise I won’t do it again!”
“You were breaking the rules and you knew it, and knew the penalty for it if you were caught. I think we both know there’s no point in arguing about it any more, don’t we, Debbie Ann?”
“Yes sir.”
Ms. Price had told me that Level One’s and Twos were generally administered on the spot, so I decided to take that literally. With no chairs around and feeling more than a little ridiculous, I knelt down on my right knee and motioned her over my left one.
“Good. Now lie across my knee, and let’s get this over with.”
It was her turn to sigh before resignedly bending over as directed, hands on the floor on one side and feet on the other, presenting her posterior for correction. I think she secretly hoped, since I was new and male, that she would get spanked on top of her skirt or at least her panties. I dashed those hopes immediately, and felt her stiffen as I raised the plaid cloth and pulled her panties down, hooking both thumbs in the waistband and working it halfway to her knees before resting my left hand in the small of her back. She had a tiny but very shapely little rear that my right hand almost completely covered when I laid it there in preparation. As I gazed down at her, I felt the pressure of another involuntary erection building again. As with my excitement when I corrected Alicia Jane earlier, it came as a surprise to me, but I decided I could analyze myself later. Right now, I had work to do.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes sir.”

The first smack was crisp and fairly light, but I remembered my previous conversation with Ms. Price and began to put some force into it, spacing the licks out, getting my rhythm up. By the sixth whack she began to squirm, trying vainly to move her diminutive butt out of the line of fire, and by the tenth her cheeks were obviously reddening.
“Please sir! Oww! Th-that’s enough!”
“I’ll decide when it’s enough,” I told her as I applied the twelfth stroke, and decided I couldn’t go too far wrong by administering her spanking the same way I had given the strapping earlier. I picked up the pace, and a dozen fast hard ones, moving cheek to cheek, put her to crying and kicking. I stopped and, remembering the Administrator’s warning about bruising, examined her bottom, which was a suitable shade of scarlet. I rubbed it for a moment to take some of the sting out and then helped her to her feet. Sniffling, she immediately took over the rubbing of her rear, making no move to pull up her panties.
“Are you all right, Debbie Ann?”
“It hurts s-sir!”
“I know it hurts. It’s supposed to, isn’t it?”
“Y-yes sir.”
“Aren’t you supposed to say something to me right about now?”
Nodding jerkily, she thanked me for correcting her.
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen sir.”
“Don’t you think, at your age, you should be able to control yourself to the extent that no one has to turn you across their knee with your bare bottom in the air for all to see, and spank you like a little girl? Isn’t it a little ridiculous for me to have to treat a young lady this way?”
She blushed brightly and nodded, and I continued.
“Now you don’t run in the hallway because it’s against the rules and, furthermore, it’s unsafe. You could have knocked someone down, or even been hurt yourself. I don’t like having to correct you, so think the next time, will you?”
“Yes sir, I will. M-may I pull up my panties now please?”
“Of course. Go ahead and make yourself presentable, and then I’ll take you to class and have a word with your teacher so she’ll know why you were late.”
“That won’t be necessary!”
One of the most severe-looking women I had ever seen came marching up the hallway like some kind of vaguely feminine storm trooper. Around fifty, she was nearly six feet tall, muscular and built more like an athletically slender man, with a fitting butch haircut to round out the impression. Actually, she was the very personification of what I had originally expected the lovely Ms. Price to look like.
“When I need your help to discipline one of my students for tardiness or anything else, I’ll ask for it!”
I saw Debbie cringe back from the corner of my eye.
“I’m Jack Bower, the new Assistant Administrator,” I said as calmly as I could in the face of her belligerent attitude. “And you are?”
“I am Ms. Carter.” Each and every word was spat out in disgust as much as spoken.
I sighed inwardly. I recognized her type; not only was she a man hater by nature, but she also had an ego and a half. She was determined to put the new guy in his place first thing and reassert her dominance in this school. The only thing was, this new guy at least nominally outranked her and I was too old and experienced to put up with that kind of bullshit. I needed to establish myself from the beginning if I was going to stay here and be able to do my job.
“A pleasure, ma’am. Now, first of all-”
“I haven’t got time for this; I’ve got a class to run. Debbie Ann,” she snapped at the girl, who paled. “You will get down to the classroom this instant and prepare to be corrected for your tardiness.”
“Ms. Carter!” I did a little snapping myself. “I am the Assistant Administrator of Carnifax Correctional Academy, and when I am speaking to you, you will have the common courtesy to listen!”
Her jaw dropped in shock that someone would dare address her like that. While she was still speechless, I turned to the wide-eyed Debbie Ann.
“I believe Ms. Carter told you to go to class. I will explain to her why you are tardy, because you were in the process of receiving a correction for running in the hallway, and if necessary I will be happy to give her a written excuse for it, stating the same in order to spare you a further correction you don’t deserve. She and I need to talk for a few minutes. Run – um, I mean walk along now,” I told her with a smile and a very brief wink.

I knew since she was the only one in the hall, Debbie Ann would probably have been late anyway if she wasn’t already, and thus did technically deserve another correction, but I decided I could afford to show a little mercy on my first day on the job. Besides, her teacher’s attitude just pissed me off, and I wasn’t going to miss the chance to annoy her.
“How dare you!” she hissed as soon as the girl was out of sight. “How dare you undermine the respect these students hold for me? I’ll have you know I’ve been teaching here for three years!”
“When you are attempting to undermine their respect for me, Ms. Carter, especially by means of gross public insubordination, it will not tolerated, and I will set the record straight regardless of who is present at the time. If you wish me to treat you with respect and professional courtesy in accordance with your position at Carnifax Academy, you will do the same in turn. Now, before you walk me down to your room and introduce me to your class, let’s return this conversation to a civilized level that sets a better example for our young charges, shall we?”
To say she was angry was an understatement. Her face was so flushed that I thought she was going to have a stroke; at least, I could always hope.
Before she could let out another outburst that would exacerbate the situation, I said, “Let’s take a walk; it’s hard to tell what they’ll get up to if we leave them alone too long.” Without waiting for her I stepped off in the direction she had come from, leaving her no choice but to hurry in order to catch up.
The trip down the hall beside her was actually enjoyable. I constantly asked her questions, keeping a pleasant smile on my face the whole time, to which she would avoid giving more than a hostile, one word answer whenever possible.
When we reached the room – Social Studies - every girl in it was sitting big-eyed and silent, staring at me, and I could almost hear their teacher grinding her teeth. It was obvious that Debbie had already delivered a quick and probably highly exaggerated version of events. I suspected it was my putting Ms. Carter in her place that shocked them much more than the spanking I had given their classmate.
“Well Ms. Carter,” I said pleasantly, “would you please introduce me?”
“This is Mr. Bower, the new Assistant Administrator.” Her voice was clipped, with all the warmth of ice, and she made those last two words sound like she had somehow gotten something particularly nasty in her mouth.
“Hello, Ladies.” I could guess that she would hate that term, which was one of the reasons why I used it.
A scattered chorus of “Hello Mr. Bower” sounded from the room.
“First, I’d like to get to know you. I want each of you to stand up in turn and introduce yourselves.”
One by one they did so, and I memorized their names and faces, an ability I have that I’ve always found useful.
“Now then, do any of you know why I’m here?”
A tall blonde timidly held up her hand.
“Yes Mary Beth?”
“To give corrections, sir?”
I shook my head, much to their surprise.
“No. Oh, I’ll correct you when you break the rules, certainly. As a matter of fact, I will be the primary person administering corrections here at Carnifax from now on, certainly all the level threes and fours, and many of the ones and twos as well.”
Several of them blanched, but I affected not to notice and continued. “That is not, however, why I’m here. I’m here to help you. I want you to graduate from Carnifax as respectable, educated young ladies with a real future ahead of you, not prison time. I want to do my part to ensure that each and every one of you goes on to lead rich, full, happy, and most of all free lives. Yes, that will occasionally mean correcting some of you, but understand this; I do not enjoy doing it. Rest assured, I will do it and when I do, I guarantee you’ll remember it, but it’s not because I want to. It’s because changing your behavior and thus changing your lives may sometimes require it.
“I’m issuing an open invitation right now, to every girl in here. Come to me if you have a problem anytime, day or night. Whatever it is, big or small, I won’t laugh at you or yell at you, but I will listen and try to help you through it. If I can’t, I’ll do my best to find someone who can. It doesn’t matter if it’s academic or personal; my door is always open. Come and see me. I don’t bite.”
I turned to their fuming teacher and gave her my best smile.
“Thank you very much, Ms. Carter. It was truly a pleasure to meet you ma’am.”


By lunchtime, I had made the rounds to the five other classrooms, fortunately finding nothing but good will on the part of the remaining teachers, who came from places as diverse as California and Germany. In fact, it was those two teachers who stuck in my mind the most, other than the pleasant Ms. Carter of course. They were at opposite ends of the extreme, demonstrating a far greater diversity of personality than I had expected to find at a place like Carnifax.
Mrs. Toland, a German widow in her fifties, math teacher, and former Olympic women’s shot putter, was a big woman who kept her iron gray hair in a severe bun, and I don’t think I would have wanted to take her on in a wrestling match. Fortunately she had a sense of humor that fit her size, and although she certainly needed no physical help in making her class ‘walk the chalk’ as we used to say, she was pleasant and jolly in the extreme. She and I took to one another at once, and I couldn’t help but notice that her class was hard working but relaxed and generally happy. I didn’t think there would be any problems there, and if there were there was no question she could handle them herself.

The English teacher from California was the sixty-something little Ms. Johnson, the same one I had seen earlier on the monitor, tanning the girl’s hide. She was an aging hippy and thoroughly looked the part. Her hair hung in two long gray braids, she was fond of bright beads and feathers, and wore them in conjunction with a gaudy Indian silver necklace that hung incongruously over her somber regulation skirt and jacket. She had the biggest purse I had ever seen made of some brightly colored Asian fabric propped on her desk, and her chair was so full of embroidered cushions it looked like something stolen from a sultan’s tent. Fond of the outrageous, she was an utter delight to talk to and kept me in class longer than I had originally intended, embarrassing me by pinching my bicep and loudly oohing over it with a broad wink.
“What a strong arm, girls! I’ll bet he could blister a bottom!”
“From what I saw on the monitor in Ms. Price’s office earlier today, you looked like you were quite capable of blistering one yourself, ma’am.”
“That was Candy Lynn Angel,” she said, nodding toward an extraordinarily statuesque and absolutely drop-dead gorgeous brunette in the front row, who blushed. “That was the third time I’ve had to correct her just this week: two Level Ones and then that Level Two today.”
I saw the exasperated look on the little woman’s face, and knew I needed to do my first intervention.
“Ms. Johnson, I think we’d better speak privately for a moment, if you don’t mind.”
Once in the hallway, I asked her what the girl’s problem was.
“She’s so big! Well, that and I’m so small, and with the arthritis, I suppose I can’t hit quite as hard as I used to.”
“Does she do this with the other teachers?”
“To a point, but I seem to get it the worst. The thing is, she’s basically not a bad girl and she can be absolutely sweet when she wants to, but she’s determined to push the envelope, and walk on the edge constantly. I really like her, but she’s a show-off. I was hoping you might speak to her.”
“I was just hoping the same thing, ma’am” I told her. “Send her out, please.”
She nodded her thanks, and a minute later I was alone in the hallway with Candy Lynn Angel.
Candy was every bit as tall as Ms. Carter had been, and, like her, had muscles more like those of a slender young man. There was nothing else mannish about her though; her large breasts, long legs and shapely hips were simply amazing. I could tell from her expression that she realized she was in trouble, and was unsure about just how bad it was going to be.
“How long have you been here, Candy Lynn?”
“Two months, sir.”
“How many corrections have you received during that time and at what level?”
“Ones and Twos, but I don’t know how many, sir.”
“Were there too many for you to count?”
“I guess I just lost track.”
“If you’re being punished more than you can remember, isn’t that telling you something is wrong, namely your behavior?”
“I-I guess so, sir.”
I fixed her with a hard glare. “A guess isn’t good enough, Candy Lynn, not here at Carnifax.”
“Yes sir.”
“Yes sir, what?”
“My behavior is wrong, sir.”
“How old are you? Eighteen?”
She nodded.
“You’re a grown woman, Candy Lynn. Do you enjoy being turned over someone’s knee and having them take down your panties and spank naked rear end like a child, especially in front of your classmates, like happened today?”
She squirmed with humiliation.
“No sir.”
“Then why don’t you change your behavior?”
“I…I don’t know, sir. I’ll try…”
I was getting tired of the ‘I don’t know’ answers. I put my hand on her shoulder to make sure I had her full attention and looked straight into her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Candy Lynn. I’m truly sorry to hear that. Until you know why you do things, and until you stop trying to be good and start being good, you’re going to be in for a very hard way to go. I’m trying to help you, but you’ve got be willing to help yourself too. If you don’t, you’re going to end up biting off more than you can chew. I don’t want to have to correct you, but believe me, if you continue this way I will, and it’s going to hurt when I do. Do you understand that? Now go back in the room and think about what I said. I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Are you going to…spank me, sir?”
Her pretty brown eyes were already starting to moisten at the thought as she licked her lips nervously, and I noticed a little quiver in her legs. I had the feeling that she was not nearly this afraid of her teachers. I considered the situation, and then came to a decision. There was no doubt she had it coming, but I decided to listen to my instincts, which told me there was a better way.
“No I’m not, not this time, even though we both know you richly deserve it, don’t we?” I paused, waiting for her to answer before repeating, “Don’t we?” She blushed even harder.
“Y-yes sir.”
“Yes sir, what?”
“Yes sir, I…I deserve to be…spanked.”
“Why?”
“For my bad behavior, sir.”
“Good; I just wanted to make certain you realized that. Like I said, I’m not going to correct you this time. Instead, what I’m going to do is to give you a chance to change your behavior so I don’t have to spank you. Just remember, this is the only chance you’ll get, so if I were you, I’d make the most of it. If you don’t, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself. Do you understand? Now go on in.”
As soon as she reentered the class, I quickly thumbed through my handbook and found the page on discretionary corrections before going back inside.
“Ms. Johnson, may I ask you a personal favor?”
“Of course.”
I nodded towards Candy.
“The next time she needs a correction – any correction at all – would you please page me, so I can come down here and administer it personally?”
Candy turned white and the other girls seemed to shift slightly away from her as if to distance themselves from something dangerous.
“You bet,” she said with a relieved smile of gratitude. “I might just start doing that for the rest of them too, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all, ma’am; it’s all in a day’s work.”


Fortunately things seemed to settle down after that. The rest of the day went by without a hitch, other than to open a stuck locker for one of the students and bandage a sprained wrist for another who had fallen on the steps.
I finally took enough time to unpack my stuff. That wasn’t hard; after the divorce, everything I had to show for over three decades of life fit into two suitcases with room to spare, and one of them was mainly filled with books – mostly classic literature. I felt like that should depress me, but frankly I was in a pretty good mood as I hung up my clothes and put my books on the shelves provided.

My room wasn’t bad, really. It was a little small, but it was conveniently located with the entryway off my office, and had its own full bath. It also had a microwave combined with a small refrigerator and a comfortable full-sized bed. I gathered that Fiona’s room was similar and located in back of her own office right next door, with nothing but a wall between us. So close and yet so far like the old song says.
I have always tried to be honest with myself, and I had to admit she was one of the main attractions this place held for me. Yes, I certainly needed the job, and yes, I had the chance to help change the lives of some girls who desperately needed it, but facts were facts. The beautiful redhead with the equally beautiful name and those mysterious blue eyes had definitely gotten my attention.
I finally got squared away and had just gone out to my office and seated myself at my desk (much plainer and more utilitarian than the Administrator’s) when I heard a knocking at the open door. I looked
up, and was surprised to see Debbie Ann Hammond, in her regulation white flannel gown. Glancing at the clock, I hadn’t realized it was so late. It was already nine-o’clock, just an hour from lights out.
“Hello Debbie Ann. Come on in and sit down. What can I do for you?”
She entered but remained standing.
“I just wanted to thank you, sir.”
“Thank me for what? Correcting you?”
She blushed and involuntarily put a hand back to rub her bottom.
“No! Besides, I already did that,” she said with a rueful smile. “No sir, I wanted to thank you for standing up to Ms. Carter for me. You saved me from another spanking on an already sore butt, and in front of the whole class to boot.”
“All I did was tell the truth. If you always do that, you’ll find it tends to make things run a whole lot smoother.”
“If you say so, but I still appreciate it, sir. I also wanted to thank you for not mentioning in front of the class that you had to spank me. They all knew it anyway – Ms. Carter made sure to tell them all about it just as soon as you were gone – but at least you didn’t embarrass me any further by pointing it out. Thanks; I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome, but you needn’t worry; that’s not the way I do things. You broke the rules and were corrected for it, and then it was over, as far as I’m concerned. I don’t believe in punishing a student twice for the same infraction.”
She nodded solemnly.
“Is there anything else?”
“No sir, I just wanted you to know that.”
“Thanks for telling me, Debbie Anne. You’ve made my day. Come and see me anytime.”
She turned to go, and almost bumped into Ms. Price on the way out. She excused herself as they scooted past each other and I stood and gestured towards my guest chair.
“Ms. Price – Fiona,” I amended, remembering we were alone. “Would you care to sit down?”
She lowered herself into the chair.
“How was your first day, Jack?”
I grinned tiredly.
“Hectic, but all in all productive I think.”
“Any problems?”
“I delivered a Level One correction to Debbie Hammond for running in the hall, a warning to Candy Angel, and generally wandered around and talked to people, introducing myself and trying to get to know them.”
“I saw the correction and I think it was a little light. A good hand correction should be at least 40 or 50 strokes.”
“Noted, and will do in the future. Actually, Debbie responded very well I think. Candy Angel is the one I’m really concerned about.”
“How so?”
I told her about Ms. Johnson having to correct her three times this week, and about Candy’s attitude.
“You should have given it to her right then and there, Jack! Mr. Carnifax would have. We need to nip this in the bud.”
I thought carefully about what I was going to say; I knew I was treading on delicate ground.
“Fiona, I think I know what you want me to be, but I’m not Arthur Carnifax; I’m Jack Bower and I have to do things like Jack Bower. If I start trying to be someone I’m not, it’ll be artificial and it will show. If I never gain, or even worse, end up losing the trust of these girls because they don’t think I’m for real, my presence here will make the problems worse, not better.”
“So what do you plan to do about Candy?”
“After speaking with Candy Lynn, I requested Ms. Johnson in her presence to notify me personally the next time she needed a correction, and I would come down there and administer it. Her teacher seems to be thrilled with the idea. I’m afraid that, for Candy, it’s not a question of if but when, and I’m betting it will be within a week at the very latest. Don’t worry; when it comes, I’ll make it count.”
She looked down for a few seconds.
“Thanks, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have questioned your competence.”
“Yes you should; that’s part of your job isn’t it? If you think I’m making a mistake, I want to know about it early on so it can be corrected, and it’s your responsibility as Administrator to see that I do. Nip it in the bud, just like you said.”
She smiled momentarily, much to my delight, but unfortunately it didn’t last.
“Thanks for your understanding. Speaking of competence, what do you think of the teaching staff?”
“As far as I can tell, they all seem to be very professional.”
“What about on a personal level?”
I suddenly knew where this was going, and decided to cut to the chase.
“I take it we’re speaking of Ms. Carter.”
Fiona nodded.
“There’s nothing much to tell beyond what you saw and heard on the security monitor,” I told her, and her slightly guilty wince let me know I was right about her watching my every move. “She was determined to put the new Assistant Administrator in his place, and I refused to be put there. There were no insults or anything of the like exchanged, just a difference of opinion and a clash of egos, the same kind of jockeying for power than goes on in every workplace. As far as I’m concerned, the matter is closed and better off forgotten about by all concerned.”
“I just wish she saw it the same way.”
“I take it she’s holding a grudge.”
“Violet Carter is still holding every grudge she’s managed to pick up in her life, and now yours is at the top of her list!” she said with so much heat in her voice I could tell immediately that I wasn’t the only one the social studies teacher had butted heads with. “She wanted the Assistant Administrator’s job very badly and…well.” She paused, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s very unprofessional to talk about one colleague to another.”
“It may not be very professional, but sometimes it’s necessary. Besides, if I’m going to be part of the administration of this school, I need to know exactly what’s going on all the way across the board, and where I stand in relation to it. Was I wrong in my approach?”
“No, Jack, you were absolutely right, and that’s the problem. If you had been the least bit in the wrong, I’d ask that you apologize in order to placate her, but you were right. You can’t let the staff bully you, and you certainly couldn’t let that girl take a correction when you knew she wasn’t at fault.
“The problem is I had to tell her you were right, and she went ballistic, as usual whenever she doesn’t get her way. If it were anyone else it would be no big deal; as I think you know by now, I’m every bit as capable of putting someone in their proper place as you are. No, the thing is, she’s the sister to one of the primary state senators on the committee that controls the correctional system’s funding – that controls us, in other words.”
I blew out my breath in disgust. It seemed I couldn’t get away from the politicians, even here. She plainly saw how I felt and hastened to explain.
“She wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for her brother. A few years ago, a bill was up in the legislature that would have made major budget cuts in several institutions, including this one. Senator Carter called me, and told me he had a sister, an experienced teacher, out of a job, and knew we had just had one of ours retire. And he knew we were very concerned about this bill that would have to go through his committee…”
“I think get the picture.”
She looked at me, her lovely eyes plainly troubled.
“Jack, I would never have hired her if not for that; she’s just not Carnifax material. I compromised, for the first time since I’ve been in charge here, and it’s come back to bite me on a regular basis ever since. I weighed her obnoxious persona against not only that particular budget bill, but against the value her presence would have as a sort of political insurance policy to insure we continue to receive the funding we need to remain in existence in the future. Sometimes I think I made a deal with the devil, but I’m afraid I’m stuck with it for the moment.”
“I see. So what do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know. I won’t ask you to do something or to allow something to happen you know is wrong, and I won’t ask you not to do your job. I couldn’t do that, and hopefully you’d tell me where to go if I tried. I just…I don’t know.”
I could tell she was desperate, so I thought about it for a minute and came up with an idea I hoped we could all live with.
“I’ll tell you what; I will do my very best not to aggravate the situation. In fact, I’ll stay away from her as much as I possibly can while still doing my job. Is that fair enough?”
“It’s more than fair. Thank you, Jack. I wouldn’t ask except for the girls. This school has to survive; it just has too!”
“It will,” I told her with an honest sincerity that I think surprised both of us, “at least as long as I can do anything about it.”

***

© Copyright by author, 2005; all rights reserved. No duplication except with author’s permission. CARNIFAX is a work of fiction, and all characters and places depicted in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or to any institution, is purely coincidental.
(send comments to the author: bruketol@yahoo.com

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