daisy5

"Hi there, Norma Lynn," Mr. Brown says as he and Daisy walk into the main
lobby of the reform school. "Is the boss man around?"

"Sure. That little hellcat must be in trouble again." The middle-aged
secretary raises an eyebrow at Daisy and pushes a button on her telephone.
"Mr. Landon, Stan Brown is here to see you. He has the Lane girl with him."

The principal appears in his office doorway, frowning. "Hello, Stan. I've
been expecting you."

Mr. Brown keeps a reassuring hand on Daisy's shoulder. "There was a
squabble in one of the science classes, and--"

"Jenna Kincaid waltzed in here a few minutes ago with the story, and Larry
Gillis confirmed it," the principal breaks in. "I don't know why you didn't
bring Daisy straight to me after the ruckus, but I'll take her off your
hands now."

Mr. Brown shakes his head. "She wants me to stay with her while she talks
to you."

"That won't be necessary. She won't be talking for long. She's about to
sing for me while I set her ass on fire."

"." "Well, I've got a good reason to stick with her then. She's entitled
to a witness if a paddling is in order."

"The observer has to be female. The secretary usually does the job."

"Norma Lynn is free to watch if she needs to," Mr. Brown says calmly. "But
Daisy asked me not to leave her alone with you, and I promised her I
wouldn't. I intend to keep that promise."

"Fine. I don't care who sees the show, just so the brat gets what she
deserves." Mr. Landon turns on his heel and stalks into his office,
motioning for Daisy to follow.

The secretary and the security guard step in behind the girl. Mr. Brown
closes the door and leans against it, resting his chin in his big hands.
The secretary sighs and folds her arms across the front of her purple dress.

Mr. Landon settles himself in the leather swivel chair at his desk. "All
right, missy, sit down. What excuse are you going to lay on me this time?"

Daisy perches on the edge of the high round stool across the desk from Mr.
Landon. She lowers her head and stares at the cream-colored carpet, wishing
she could crawl underneath it and disappear.

"Did you snatched Jenna Kincaid out of her seat by the collar during science
class?" the principal asks.

"Uh huh. But she--"

"And did you break a chair in the hallway by slamming it down as hard as you
could on the floor?"

"Yeah, sort of. Mr. Brown made me help him fix it, though, and I wasn't
trying to break it. I was just--"

"What did I tell you would happen the next time you laid a hand on another
student or took out your lousy attitude on a piece of school property?"

"You said you'd tan my hide, but--"

"Take down your hose and panties." The principal pulls an oblong wooden
paddle out of his bottom desk drawer.

"Please, Mr. Landon, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get out of line."

"Too late for that, girl. Quit whining and shuck your underclothes."

Daisy bites her lip and shoots a desperate look at Mr. Brown, who hasn't
moved from his place by the door. She thinks she sees a trace of sorrow in
his eyes, but he turns his head away so fast she can't be sure.

The Principal marches around his desk with the paddle in one hand. He yanks
Daisy off the stool and flips up her skirt and slip. He tugs her hose and
underpants down past her Knees and forces her to bend over the stool. Then
he adjusts her so that her feet are two or three inches off the floor and
her buttocks are high in the air.

"God Almighty, look how bruised up she is!" the secretary gasps. "Dwight,
you can't spank her on top of all those ugly welts!"

"You came in here to observe, Norma Lynn, not to comment," Mr. Landon says
frostily. "Grab the legs of the stool, Daisy, and keep your hands in place
till I get through with you."

Daisy grasps the smooth metal legs of the stool and grits her teeth. Her
upturned bottom clenches and quivers, afraid of the pain that is only
moments away. She smells the slightly musty odor of the carpet, which is
now very close to her face.

"When I tell you not to lay your hands on other students and not to abuse
school property, young lady, I mean it." The principal starts to ply the
heavy paddle. The sharp cracks of wood on bare flesh mingle with a flood of
yelps and whimpers in the small office. "You've given my arm quite a
workout during the past three months, wouldn't you say? And you keep on
acting like a little hellion, no matter what I do."

"Oh, ouch! I'll be good!" Daisy squeals. She feels her pride slipping away
from her, and she can't find the strength to cling to it. "Oh God, oh my
God! I'll be good!"

"You don't know how to be good, Daisy Lane." The principal lets out a
disgusted snort and swings the paddle harder. The black and blue marks on
Daisy's buttocks and thighs begin to disappear as her skin turns crimson
once again. "If you knew how to be good, your butt wouldn't be pointed at
the ceiling as often as it is, would it?"

Daisy is too busy crying to answer. Her legs jerk wildly back and forth as
the paddle swishes through the air and lands, again and again, on its
reddening target. She rocks from side to side on the stool, trying to
wriggle out from under the storm of scorching blows.

"Have I got your attention?" the principal demands, peppering Daisy's tender
inner thighs with a half a dozen solid smacks while her legs thrash about.
The girl wails and squirms, and Mr. Landon presses his free hand firmly
against the small of her back.

"Oh, please, no more! I'll do whatever you say!" Daisy lets go of the legs
on the stool. Her arms flutter frantically in the air, making her look like
a swimmer in an angry sea.

"Get your hands back where they belong!" the principal barks.

"That's enough, Dwight." Mr. Brown suddenly strides across the room and
seizes the principal by the wrist, stopping the paddle in mid-air.

"What?" Mr. Landon gapes at the security guard, shocked. "What do you
think--"

"I think you better cool off." Mr. Brown takes the paddle from the
principal and tosses it on the desk. "You were letting your temper get the
best of you."

"You don't know that girl!" Mr. Landon snaps. "There isn't a shred of
remorse in her! Not a shred!"

"So you decided to beat some into her with a hunk of hardwood?" Mr. Brown
speaks quietly, but the anger in his voice cuts through the air like a steel
blade. "How can you expect anything but bitterness and violence out of her
when she gets nothing else from you?"

"Are you telling me how to do my job?" the principal snarls.

"Your job is to teach the girls who land in reform school right from wrong,
isn't it? You taught Daisy all about rage with that paddle, and I bet she
learned her lesson well. but there was no love in the way you punished
her."

"And you, a simple security guard, know all about getting through to wayward
girls?" The principal shakes his finger furiously at Mr. Brown. "I could
have you hauled up before a state review board so fast your head would
spin!"

"You do that, and I'll make sure you sit on the hot seat right beside me.
The board members will drop their jaws on the floor when they hear about
your brutality."

"Brutality? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Look at that girl, Dwight." Mr. Brown jerks a thumb toward Daisy, who is
still draped over the stool, sobbing miserably. "She's got a lot of healing
up to do, from her tailbone all the way to the backs of her knees."

"Well, she obviously crossed the wrong person, didn't she?" The principal
twists the end of his silk tie nervously between his fingers. "But the
majority of her bruises weren't left by my paddle just now, and since you
haven't witnessed any other spankings, you have no proof that I mistreated
her."

"Who are you going to pin the blame on?"" Mr. Brown scoffs. "Do we have a
phantom spanker who haunts the dorm rooms at night with a strap in his
hands?"

"Maybe not, but Daisy has smarted off to everybody on the staff and picked
fights with most of her fellow students. Any one of a hundred people could
have taken a notion to thrash her."

"I found her on the floor of the math room last Friday after you whaled the
tar out of her." Mr. Brown lifts Daisy gently to her feet and hands her a
tissue from his shirt pocket. "I should have called the police right then,
but the poor girl was too sore and scared to face a bunch of prying
strangers."

"She deserved everything she got!" Mr. Landon roars. "Don't let her fool
you, Stan! She's a scammer and a rotten apple! I've dealt with plenty of
young delinquents in my time, and she beats all I ever saw!"

"Pull up your panties and hose, honey." Mr. Brown brushes Daisy's tangled
hair off her forehead. "It's all over now."

"Like hell it is!" Mr. Landon scrambles to regain his authority. "You've
earned a stretch in solitary confinement, Daisy Lane! And don't say you
weren't warned! What did I tell you when I whipped you for giving Shanna
Collins a bloody nose in the lunch line?"

"I know," Daisy says in a tiny, fragile voice. "You said if I couldn't get
along with the other students, I'd have to go into isolation."

"And that's not all. I'm going to recommend to the juvenile court that you
be sent to Harper Springs. Our remedial classes and our dress code didn't
straighten you up. Maybe a few months behind guard towers and razor wire
will do the trick."

"No way!" Daisy stares, goggle-eyed, at the principal. "I get to go home
to my mom at the end of the month! You can't send me to Harper Springs!
You can't!"

"I can, and I will. You aren't fit to be turned loose on the streets. And
what's more, your mother has refused to take you back. She terminated her
parental rights in court yesterday."

"What?" Daisy shrieks. "What does that mean?"

"It means she made you a ward of the state, Daisy. And unless you want to
go over the stool again right now, you'll speak to me in a civil tone."

"It's because of that son of a bitch, Austin Barnes, isn't it!" Daisy
bellows, doubling up her fists. "My mom is dying to get into his jeans, and
he don't want me around! She's no better than a thirty dollar whore!"

Mr. Landon grabs the girl by the shirt front and shakes her savagely.
"Watch your mouth, do you hear me?"

"Jesus Christ, Dwight, what's wrong with you?" Mr. Brown elbows the
principal aside and sweeps Daisy into his arms. "A mother gives up her
child, for whatever her reasons might be, and you throw out the terrible
news like a punishment?"

"Don't waste your pity on her, Stan. There are plenty of girls around here
who might be worth worrying about, but Daisy Lane isn't one of them," the
principal sneers. "She hasn't put an ounce of effort into bettering herself
while she's been here. She hasn't tried to catch up with her peers in
school. She fights with the other students, defies the teachers. She lies,
she cheats, she mouths off, and she learns nothing from the consequences of
her misbehavior. Frankly, I'm at the end of my wits with her."

"It shows." Mr. Brown keeps one arm around the weeping girl and rubs her
back soothingly with his other hand.

"Solitary confinement," the principal raps out. "Are you going to do your
job and lock her up, Stan, or shall I take care of it myself?"

"Leave it to me." Mr. Brown ushers Daisy toward the door. His composure
has definitely worn thin around the edges.

"Be sure you do it right," the principal says coldly. "Strip search,
convalescent gown, everything."

"I can't do a strip search, you know that. A female staff member will have
to see to it."

"Okay, damn it, take Norma Lynn with you. She can peel the clothes off the
girl." Mr. Landon glares at the secretary. "If you want to keep your job,
Norma Lynn, you'll make that girl strip down to bare skin. Understood?"

"I'll handle it, Dwight." The secretary wipes her eyes on the sleeve of her
dress. The rouge on her cheeks is streaked with tears. "And as soon as I
finish, I'll be back to clean out my desk."

"What?" the principal is stunned. "What did you say?"

"You heard me." Norma Lynn levels a steely stare at her boss. "You used to
care about your students, but lately all you do is look down on them. I
can't sit back any more and watch your anger break their spirits."

"The young ladies who are sent to me need discipline in their lives!" The
principal jabs his finger at Daisy like a sword. "Especially that one! She
never knows when to quit!"

"Neither do you," Norma Lynn answers. "You ought to be ashamed of the way
you beat that girl."

Without another word, the secretary follows Mr. Brown and Daisy out of the
office. She slams the door behind her.

Dwight Landon sags into his leather swivel chair, dazed. He cradles his
head in his hands and tries to get his mind off of Daisy and her flaming red
buttocks and thighs. Perhaps he had come down too hard on her, he admits to
himself, but the bad girls seem to be getting worse with each passing year,
and patience just isn't as easy to drum up as it used to be. He has the
week of Thanksgiving off, maybe he should go see his brother out in
California, kick back on the beach, and think about early retirement.

The secretary and the security guard walk down the hall with Daisy between
them. They pass the cafeteria and the library, the gym and the infirmary.
At the far end of the building, Mr. Brown unclips a big ring of keys from
his belt.

"Daisy, the isolation rooms are pretty gloomy." The guard unlocks a heavy
metal door. "You aren't going to like the looks of them."

Daisy steps through the door and glances around. There are two tiny cells
on either side of a small square entry way, each with a tall gate made of
iron bars. In each room, she sees a narrow metal cot, bolted to the floor
and covered by a green wool Army blanket, and a stainless steel sink.
Nothing else. No windows, no carpet, no pictures on the concrete walls. A
wave of fear pours over her, and her lip trembles.

"Well, we better get this over with." Mr. Brown opens a cupboard in the
entry way and takes out a short cotton nightgown and a big plastic bag. He
hands the things to the secretary. "Pick a room and do what needs to be
done. I'll wait out here."

Norma Lynn leads Daisy by the hand into one of the cells. She sits down on
the bed, keeping her eyes discretely on her leather pumps.

"Let's make this as easy as possible, Daisy," she says kindly. "You need to
undress for me, please, down to the skin. Hand each piece of clothing to me
as you take it off."

Daisy obeys with her head hanging. She removes her skirt and blouse and
offers them to the secretary, who folds them neatly. Daisy pulls off her
slip and hose. She unsnaps her bra and steps out of her panties. At last
she stands before Norma Lynn, naked and dejected, with her hands clasped in
front of her crotch.

"Okay, the worst is over." Norma Lynn holds the skimpy nightgown out to
Daisy. "Put that on. Here, take your panties back, too. Dwight Landon can
sue me if he doesn't like it."

The secretary slips Daisy's clothes into the plastic bag and carries the bag
out into the hallway. She returns with a bottle of lotion from the supply
cupboard. Daisy stretches out on the narrow bed and lets Norma Lynn rub the
soothing cream into her swollen bottom and thighs. She starts to relax
beneath the warm, strong hands of the secretary. The pillow under her head
suddenly feels soft and inviting, and her eyelids get heavy.

"There, that ought to ease the sting a little," Norma Lynn says. "Keep your
chin up, honey. I've got to hit the road."

Daisy lifts her head off the pillow and smiles. "Thanks. You don't have to
quit your job or anything, you know, because of me."

"I can't respect Mr. Landon any more after the way he treated you." Norma
Lynn bends down to give the girl a quick hug. "You deserve to be cherished,
even if you do bad things and someone has to punish you. Always remember
that."

"But what will you do now?"

"Oh, I'll get along." Norma Lynn promises. "My sister runs a diner over in
Hunterville. I can wait tables there till I find another job."

The secretary turns away and hurries out of the room with a fresh set of
tears smearing her make-up.

"See you around, Stan." She shakes hands with the security guard. "And if
Dwight Landon gets hauled up before a review board, let me know. I'd be
glad to help you bust his ass."

"I hope it doesn't come to that." Mr. Brown says. "Take care, Norma Lynn."

The secretary blows a kiss at Mr. Brown and steps out into the main hallway,
letting the heavy door close behind her. Mr. Brown rubs his hand tiredly
over his forehead. Then he walks into the cell and sits beside Daisy on the
bed.

"You look sleepy, sweetheart," he says quietly. "You ought to try and get
some rest."

"How can I?" Daisy whimpers. "This place is a hell-hole! What's gonna
happen to me, Mr. Brown?"

"It's awfully dreary in here, I know, but you'll be safe. I'll check in on
you as often as I can, and the cafeteria workers will bring you your meals."

"What if Mr. Landon decides to come pound my ass again?"

"He'll head home for the night pretty soon." Mr. Brown glances at his wrist
watch. "Besides, see that red button on the wall above your bed? When you
push it, a light starts blinking on the radio of every security guard in the
building. If you need something, don't be afraid to press that button."

"Mr. Brown, please don't leave me here by myself! Please, I can't stand
it!"

"I wish I didn't have to leave you, Daisy. But with the principal on the
warpath, I don't think there's a safer place for you to stay." The guard
touches Daisy tenderly on the cheek. "Be brave. You won't be cooped up for
long."

"No, just till I get sent to Harper Springs!" Daisy cries out. "Some of the
kids there have killed people and stuff! My mom doesn't want me, and nobody
else does, either!"

"That poor mother of yours doesn't know what she threw away." Mr. Brown
scoops Daisy into his arms. "Just take things a day at a time. Can you do
that for me?"

"Do I have a choice?" Daisy bites her lower lip so hard she tastes blood.

"Don't fight the tears, baby girl," Mr. Brown murmurs. "That's it, let go
of the pain."

The sobs tumble out of Daisy with shocking suddenness, coming from deep in
her chest, making her whole body tremble. Mr. Brown holds her tightly,
saying nothing. Even when she stops crying, he sits in silence with her on
his lap.

Daisy lets her eyes drift closed after a while. Sleep starts to wrap around
her like a curtain. Mr. Brown folds back the coarse wool blanket and eases
the girl onto the hard mattress. He covers her and kisses her forehead.

The security guard stands by the bed for a long time, watching as Daisy
dozes, wakes, and then drifts off again. When her breathing is finally
regular, he tiptoes out of the cell, locking the iron gate behind him.

He steps out into the main hallway and strides purposefully along it. He
has a big mess on his hands, and it might take him some slick talking to fix
it. But no matter what he has to do, Mr. Brown vows, Daisy won't feel alone
and unwanted for long.

Daisy Lane, 11-2000