Once
and Again– Trust Me –
(F/f nc implied, drama)
Background
: the sadly now-gone ABC show "Once and Again" often featured black-and-white in-betweens where the characters spoke their inner thoughts to an invisible interlocutor. It might have been a psychiatrist, or a friend, but most likely it was a simple and yet very effective deus ex machina, a dramatis personae to make them communicate their real feelings. Some of the most intense dialogues in the show are shot in this particular manner, and I tried to replicate this style. So all the italic text you see in this story is meant to be as an interview, what in the old theatrical language is called "a lato" (= by a side, featured, external). I really loved the show's characters, such as Zoe and Jessie and Grace, and with any luck (I'm not a very continuous writer) this may be the first of some four/five stories about Once and Again. I hope you enjoy.---- START OF STORY ----
Zoe Manning ran, a less-than-perfect report card stuffed in her pocket.
Where could she throw it? Not the school baskets, it would be found and reported. Just a garbage can, then: there are thousands around, who'd ever see it? But what if they did, after all? She could burn it, but she would feel just too awful. Using matches was an offence just a little bit lighter than a C in maths.
I'm a good girl, I don't do what I'm told not to do. I'm a good girl, I'm a good girl, I've always been a good girl. Oh please, tell me that I'm a good girl?
Ten-year-old Zoe kept repeating that in her head as the street flew underneath her feet. Where could she go now? What was she to do? The river. The river sounded good. She reached for the nearest boundary and flushed the damn piece of paper down in the water. There, that was it.
I was, like: "Oh my God, what have I done? An official document… in the river?" I was going frantic. I really didn't know what to do.
"Oh God, I'm gonna get it so bad!" she squealed, and felt like crying. She had no escape now, even more no escape than before.
A man who was walking nearby stopped by as he hard her whimpers.
"What's up, little girl? You got a problem?"
He just wanted to be helpful, but Zoe had been instructed not to talk to strangers, never ever for any reason, and so she fled. The man yelled behind her: "Don't worry: everything will turn out alright!" But she was already around a corner, heading for the only place in the world where she would not want to be: home. Her next doom.
–––
Lily Manning glanced at the kitchen wall clock again. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the salad, the thought "Where on Earth is Zoe?" kept buzzing in her head, hammering like a mace.
Whenever something goes wrong, first thing I do is think about my own mistakes rather than other people's. So I thought: "Did I do anything wrong? It's report cards today, maybe she's afraid of me and…" Oh well, I had told her to study, and if she didn't want a less-than-perfect results she would have just listened. "If her card's not full of A's and B's she's gonna get it real bad". That's what I thought back then. I thought that even if I kept looking at the damn clock.
Twenty minutes late, and still no trace of her. Lily's salad was growing so big she could feed a whole Marine battalion with it. She, too, was going frantic.
Suddenly something from the street. A sound! Lily scooped her head out of the window, watching towards the street. And there she was, Zoe, running as if running for dear life, her backpack slapping her back, her sweater and long, dark brown hair flying untidily all around her. She was crying.
"Oh yes, that's it." I was sure by then.
–––
Grace Manning sat in the living room sofa, one leg threw over an arm, chewing some gum and watching TV while pretending to do homework. She was distracted by the noises coming from the atrium, and she turned around to look. What she saw was a storm, in the form of her baby sister, rushing from the door to the entryway, and flushing her pack and sweater carelessly on the floor.
I saw Zoe coming in like that and I realised immediately: it was report card day for fifth graders, and something told me it had not gone quite well. "Well, too bad for her", I thought. I must confess I always wanted the little brat get her share too; since I'm the eldest, I'm mostly the spanked one around here, while she often gets away with it because she's mommy's sweetheart. But if you ask Zoe, she'll tell you she's the most spanked girl in the whole wide world. Kids these days…
–––
I ran to the door as I heard it slam, fully willing to be comprehensive whatever should happen.
"Zoe," said Lily.
She saw her daughter rushing past her, and she caught her by the waist.
–––
Well, for a second I thought she would spank me there and then no matter what.
–––
Lily tried to restrain the furious child, and finally managed to pin her down to the floor, blocking her legs with her own.
"Now, now!" she said. "Take it easy, Zoe. You wanna tell me what this is all about, huh?"
"Lemme go!" screamt the child, trying desperately to make a run for it. But her mother's grasp, though delicate, was too firm, and she wouldn't let go.
As Grace bobbed up her head from the sofa to see what was happening, Lily managed to maintain her hold on Zoe, who finally broke down in sobs and let herself rest on her mother's body.
–––
I saw mom and Zoe laying on the floor, mom holding her firmly but gently and caressing her hair. Baby brat cried as she always does, but I could tell there was something really bad going on. I would intervene if mom didn't tell me not to.
–––
Lily gestured to Grace for her to leave the room, mouthing "let us alone". She cared to smile to reassure her eldest daughter that nothing really bad was going on, but to no avail. Grace left them anyway.
When Zoe had finally calmed down, she let herself cry out on Lily's sweater, while the woman soothed her hair with a morbid touch.
"There, there, it's alright. It's alright, babe. Now we go up to your room and you tell me everything you want to tell me, okay?"
The child nodded.
"Everything, you understand? You can tell me everything, no secrets kept. Deal?"
"Deal..." Zoe murmured in a low, shrilly voice broke from the tears.
–––
Zoe's room was small but tidy, with a wide bed and white walls that made it look a lot bigger. Lily brought her child to the bed, and sat aside her, keeping her small hands in hers.
"Now, honey..."
"I'm sorry, mom!" whined Zoe. "I shouldn't have done that, please don't spank me."
"Take it easy now. What you shouldn't have done? Does this have anything to do with your report card?"
Zoe nodded and lowered her tearful eyes, too ashamed or scared to look straight at her mother.
"Do you think you want to show me? Maybe it's not as bad as you picture it. Maybe we can discuss it through together, can't we?"
"No, I can't," cried the girl. "I don't have it no more."
Lily froze.
Well, I'd been expecting something like this, in a way. When I was her age, I hid a note from the principal and didn't take it home. When my father found out he was furious, let me tell you.
"You threw it away?!" said Lily, shocked, sounding more angry than she meant to.
Zoe opened her eyes wide and looked at her. "I'm sorry!" she kept saying, and she kept crying.
Lily felt like she was at a turning point. She was about to take a decision, there and then, a choice that might change her relationship with Zoe forever. Were she to follow her primal instincts, she would take those trousers off her child and wallop her with a belt until her arse would be numb all over. But sometimes you have to restrain yourself in order to make the best choice, and Lily Manning knew better than to spank her daughters in anger.
I always believed that corporal punishment is to be administered calmly and coolly, without rage, without disruptive feelings. It's not me against her, it's me
aside her, and I need to be calm and controlled for that.Meanwhile, Zoe was once again crying freely, letting herself go on her mother's shoulders, hugging her as holding on for dear life. Then, finally, she too calmed down. Lily hadn't spoken since her daughter's confession, and now looked at her with a puzzled, sad expression.
"Are... are you going to spank me, mommy?"
Again that 'mommy' thing. Her daughters never called her 'mommy' unless they were in trouble or wanted to be cuddled. Lily was confused. As a parent, she knew what her job would have to be: take her child across her knees and spank her. But as a woman, and also as someone who loved Zoe madly, she would never want to hurt her in such a delicate frame.
After all, it all boiled down to the same old question: does a spanking hurt more than a spared spanking? What is the best for her
now?"I don't know, honey," Lily found herself saying. And it was the darn truth.
Zoe looked taken aback, maybe also a bit surprised.
"It's just that..." Lily struggled to find the right words. "Well, you were so scared of my reaction that you felt you couldn't tell me something, and I don't like that. Zoe, I'd like you to be totally open with me, and if what you have to say will grant you a spanking, well... then I'd expect you to say it and face the consequences. Isn't that fair?"
Zoe nodded. "Yes, mommy. But it's hard. I mean, I was so scared you'd spank me row for a C..."
"Is that it? You got a C?"
"In maths. But it's the only C in the whole card, I promise! I got two B's and the rest's all A's, mommy, I promise!"
Lily smiled: "I trust you, sweetheart, but I would trust you even more if you had brought me the card in the first place."
–––
Then I felt even more mortified, if such a thing is possible. I think I even started to cry again.
"I know, mommy. I shouldn't have thrown it down in the river."
–––
"Yes, you really shouldn't have."
"It's an official thing, and..."
"That's not the reason, Zoe," said Lily. "I don't care about the damn piece of paper, we can have that back from school at any time. The thing is: I'm very sorry that you didn't trust me."
"I was scared of the spanking..." Zoe repeated.
"I understand that, but you need to trust me anyway. I'm your mom, I know what's good for you in this period of your life. Give me a little credit for that, won't you?"
Zoe renewed her crying. "Yes, mommy. Sorry, mommy. I do trust you."
Lily smiled and again embraced her trembling child. "That's a good girl."
Mother and daughter remained there for a while, hugging one another, the child's crying slowly decreasing and finally fading off. Lily detached from her then, and dried her wet, puffy eyes with a cloth.
"Now I'm ready for my spanking, mom."
–––
I never thought I'd say that, but I really felt like taking my deserved punishment in that moment.
–––
It shocked me more than a thousand words, really. Here she was, ten year old and scared out of her pants, and yet she was taking a tough decision, one that required her all the courage she had, I'm sure. God, I was so proud of her.
Lily nodded, bent forward and kissed her daughter on the forehead.
"Very well, honey. I am very, very proud of you."
"Thank you, mom. I am happy you are."
And with that she dropped her jeans and panties and draped herself over her mother's knees.
THE END
